Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [146]
Entering the penthouse offices, Maureen walked directly to the windows and took in the view. 'Ah, it's been a long time since I was up here. Thank you for inviting me.' She turned to him. 'You've got quite a lot on your plate. Need some advice?'
Basil frowned. 'I have my own advisers.'
'Not as many as you once had, from what I hear.' Maureen went to the drink dispenser and got herself a glass of wine without being asked. She sat back in a chair, took a sip, and held the glass up to the sunlight to study the garnet colour. 'Interesting vintage. From Relleker? I can recommend some better ones, if you'd like.'
That won't be necessary. I rarely drink, especially while I'm working - and I'm always working.'
'I remember those days.' Maureen took another sip. 'Still, it's not bad.'
Basil felt a flash of anger to see her act altogether too familiar with these offices. 'Recent developments forced me to summon you here, Madame Chairman. This is about your grandson.'
She set the glass down. 'What has Patrick done now? His captivity under the Roamers affected him more than we suspected. He needed a great deal more intensive counselling.'
'He needed to be arrested.'
Finally, Maureen seemed rattled. 'Arrested? Is General Lanyan on his kick to find a scapegoat for AWOL soldiers again?'
'In a time of war, it's called desertion,' Basil corrected her. He felt a brief craving for a cup of cardamom coffee, but pushed it aside. This is something far more serious than desertion, Madame Chairman.'
'Now you've got my interest.'
'He's plotting the overthrow of the Hansa government.'
Maureen let out an explosive laugh. 'Patrick? My Patrick?'
He called up an image on his desk and played King Peter's speech, to which was appended her grandson's full confession.
Maureen listened sternly. 'Yes, Patrick told me about blowing up that Roamer ship. I tried to explain political realities to him.' She shook her head. 'I apologize, Mr Chairman. I never expected him to abandon his EDF duties, but I knew the guilt was eating at him. I should have watched him more closely. I haven't seen him in some time, you understand. He stole my space yacht and disappeared before the hydrogues came to Earth. I wish I knew where he was.'
Basil fumed. 'He is with the Roamers on one of their skymines! It's bad enough that he publicly admitted such an act. I thought we had succeeded in quelling the uproar, getting the Roamers under '-control - and now he's fanned the flames again. That in itself is bad enough. Then he tops it all off by turning the blame not only on himself, but on his commanding officer and his commander-in-chief? That's absolutely unforgivable. Accusing General Lanyan of issuing the murderous orders and me of covering up the incident! Even if his statement were true - and I'm not saying it is--it's a cowardly act to blame his superiors. I want you to do something about it. Talk to him, make him retract his statement. At the very least, get him back here.'
'I haven't a clue how to do that. He won't listen to me.' Basil was ready to dismiss the old woman when Maureen leaned forward, her wine forgotten. She glanced around the room as if to reassure herself that the doors were sealed and no one was eavesdropping. 'Let's not kid ourselves, Mr Chairman. You know as well as I do that Lanyan did give that order. It was a bad command decision with repercussions neither the General, nor you yourself, imagined. When the Roamers caught you, it backfired in your face.'
'I was always in complete control.'
'Sure you were.' Maureen regarded him for a long moment. 'As a former Hansa Chairman myself, I'd like permission to speak candidly.'
He hardened his expression. 'I always welcome constructive criticism.'
'I know what you're going through. In my time I faced different disasters, but there were plenty of them. In the best of all possible worlds, a smart person would make smart decisions, and smart people would follow them.