Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [80]
“You know my training, Mr. Chairman.”
Basil poured himself a glass of ice water; he’d already had enough coffee for the day, and it was late. “I thought you were off hopping through Klikiss transportals, exploring world after world.” He sipped his water but offered no refreshment to Lotze.
“I decided it was too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous for you? That’s interesting.”
“There’s the exciting kind of danger, Mr. Chairman—and the foolish kind. More than once, you tried to talk me out of exploring untested coordinates, afraid I might disappear like Margaret Colicos did.”
“If you did happen to vanish, at least we wouldn’t have to worry about all those secrets inside your head.”
“You don’t worry about that, Mr. Chairman.” It was not a question.
“No, I suppose I don’t. So, then, why are you here during my few moments of peaceful private time?”
“I’ve come, with all due respect, to call in a favor. I believe I’ve performed adequate service for the Hansa over the years.”
Basil raised his eyebrows. Lotze had always been a man of very few needs and no demands. “What could you possibly want?”
“I want…to go home—or the closest thing I’ve found in recent years. Back to Crenna. I liked it there.”
Interesting. It seemed Davlin had been careful not to show just how much he liked it on Crenna, how much warmth he felt for the colonists there. The Chairman thought it an odd weakness for someone like Davlin.
“You want to…retire?” Basil couldn’t quite grasp the concept. Lotze had always been a man like himself, driven by work and duties with no interest in otherwise occupying himself. “Relaxation” was a chore.
“Call it a sabbatical if you prefer. It doesn’t need to be permanent.”
Basil could not argue with the request—Lotze had certainly earned it—yet he was bothered by the idea. “Seven of my EDF green priests have resigned, Roamer ekti supplies have inexplicably stopped coming, and now you want to go away. Reminds me of rats leaving a sinking ship.”
Lotze remained silent, stoic. He had made his case and simply waited for the Chairman to agree. Basil knew he was in a tricky position: If the Hansa ever expected to get good service from the cultural spy again, he could not turn down his request. Lotze could just as easily vanish. Permanently.
Showing no concern for his visitor, Basil began to undress, preparing for bed. “Since I don’t have pressing duties for you, Mr. Lotze, Crenna is as good a place as any, I suppose. If you settle down there, at least I’ll always know where to find you.”
Lotze offered a mysterious smile. “Will you?”
Basil scowled. “Go away before I change my mind. Would you like to depart in the same mysterious way that you arrived, or would you rather leave by the main door?”
Lotze headed out of the bedroom toward the suite’s entrance. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mr. Chairman.”
“I worry about everything…but I’m rather less concerned about you than about most other things.”
Lotze put his hand on the door activation panel. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Chairman.”
“Take it as a farewell—for now.”
The following day, an unusual package arrived at Hansa HQ addressed directly to the Chairman, sent by the Speaker of the Roamer clans.
“At last they break their silence. Let’s see what this is all about.” Basil marched toward the nearest exit, while the messenger compy struggled to keep up with him. He had given orders for the next three Klikiss Torches to be deployed; maybe he had inadvertently chosen a gas giant where Roamers were still running their skymines in secret. He supposed that would have been an unpleasant surprise for them.
In a courtyard near the east entrance of the Hansa ziggurat, technicians hovered around the perimeter, holding scanning apparatus. Eldred Cain and Sarein were waiting for him, obviously intrigued, along with Basil’s blond expediter, Franz Pellidor.
Pellidor paced around the crate,