Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [88]
Zan’nh thought a moment. “Then it is unfortunate for you, Sullivan Gold, that my warliners have a thorough array of weaponry.” He paced in the command nucleus, wondering what Adar Kori’nh would have done in this situation. He needed to send the humans a warning message here. “The Terran Hanseatic League has clearly overstepped its bounds, and the Ildiran Empire has a right to take any appropriate action.”
The human replied, sounding frustrated, “Oh come on now! With everything else going on in the Spiral Arm, do you really want to trigger an unnecessary war against the Hansa? Neither of our races wants that.”
The annoying man was right, of course. Zan’nh didn’t want that. His warliners could easily cover up the destruction of the cloud harvester as a hydrogue attack, but humans and Ildirans were not at war with each other. Still, the…audacity and blithe self-absorption of their assumptions galled him. Why did they think they had the right?
Though the man named Sullivan Gold sounded respectful, he did not seem particularly intimidated by the posturing. “I’ve got an idea, sir—why don’t we discuss a way to resolve this situation like gentlemen? After all, Qronha 3 is a gas giant. There’s certainly enough room for two harvesting facilities, right? The Hansa may have put its foot into a mess, but we can fix it. We won’t get in each other’s way, I promise.”
He paused, waiting for Zan’nh to reply, but the Adar made no answer. Zan’nh had learned that silence could be a useful weapon.
Anxious, the human continued to chatter. “Listen, let me host you and your chief skyminer over here at our facility. We’ll show you everything we’ve done and share the weather data we’ve gathered. It’ll improve the efficiency of your own operations. All right?”
Good, Zan’nh thought. The situation was definitely moving in the right direction now. He remained silent a long while yet, enjoying the discomfort he must be inflicting on the Hansa crew.
The impatient human transmitted yet again, well before Zan’nh was ready to break the tension. “Or, if you want, I’ll shuttle myself over to your warliners so we can talk face-to-face. I’m flexible. What’ll it be, my place or yours?”
Adar Kori’nh would have told him to search for a way to end the conflict at no unnecessary cost of lives. That was how he wanted the Saga to remember him.
Zan’nh decided he did not want to be in a position where he had to offer hospitality to these interlopers. Instead, he would let them make the overtures.
“I will come to your facility. We will resolve this situation without unnecessary casualties.”
“Good idea.”
Zan’nh knew he had the upper hand here, both militarily and psychologically. One way or another, the Empire would emerge with honor here today.
Chapter 45—MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H
On Ildira, the Klikiss robot entered the PrismPalace, bypassing the traditional spiral pilgrimage route that crossed the seven radial streams. The looming beetle-shaped machine pushed past the staring Ildiran supplicants who had flocked to Mijistra to gaze upon their new Mage-Imperator.
Angry guard kithmen closed in on the robot, trying to slow its inexorable progress, while others rushed messages to the skysphere reception hall where Jora’h sat in his chrysalis chair, holding court. The Mage-Imperator had just announced his departure for Dobro, at last.
His muscular daughter Yazra’h stayed with her father in the audience chamber, the three sleek Isix cats she kept as pets resting nearby. The ferocious-looking animals lay at her feet like liquid smoke rippling with sinews and wiry muscles. Yazra’h instantly stood up as a messenger rushed in.
“A Klikiss robot is approaching, Liege! It refuses to stop.”
Without ceremony, the ominous insectile automaton lumbered into the dazzling skysphere hall. Even in the colored sunshine, the robot’s matte black exoskeleton seemed to