Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [147]
'Compromise? Why should I even consider compromising with people who are wrong?'
'So that you can get the right things done, of course. Look at your track record since the hydrogue war began. Study your decisions objectively. You'll find more than a few that, in retrospect, might have been handled better.'
'Such as?' By his tone, it was clear that he didn't want to know.
'Such as the way you handled the Roamer situation and their ekti embargo. As you can see from Patrick's statement, they had a legitimate grievance. You could have nipped it in the bud, made a few inexpensive amends, and maintained our access to stardrive fuel. It would have kept the Hansa strong.'
'Thank you for your advice. I will take it under consideration.' He stood to usher her out the door, but Maureen was not finished.
'And your public and embarrassing quarrels with King Peter. He was right about the Klikiss robots and the Soldier compies. Everyone can see that, but you still won't acknowledge it. Are you pathologically incapable of admitting you're wrong? Now, when the King speaks out against you, there's a clear precedent for the people to believe him. Furthermore,' she pointed a finger, 'abandoning the Hansa colonies, withdrawing all protection from them, refusing to deliver desperately needed supplies, using the EDF to crack down--'
'Thank you. I will take it under consideration. You may take your wine with you as you go.'
'I appreciate your open-mindedness and willingness to listen.' Maureen's voice dripped with sarcasm as she stepped toward the door.
When Basil saw the hunger in her eyes, it suddenly became clear to him. She was like a jackal lurking near a wounded animal. She wanted to take over! She wanted to be Chairman again. Perhaps she had set up her own grandson to embarrass and bring down Basil. Maureen Fitzpatrick could cause a great deal of trouble for him.
As she left in an obvious huff, Basil sent a message to summon Deputy Cain. He wanted that woman watched very closely.
Ninety-two
Patrick Fitzpatrick III
The winds of Golgen were cold as death when Patrick stepped out to face them. He wore no restraints. After all, where could he run? Patrick felt lost, isolated, and to some insane measure, relieved and content. He had confessed his crimes, and the Roamers would exact their traditional - if melodramatic -punishment. Nothing more needed to be said. He had never expected to receive miraculous forgiveness, though he had hoped for it from Zhett. On the other hand, once he was brought out onto deck with the infinite sky below, reality set in, and terror howled through him like the swirling winds.
Viewed from any logical standpoint, this whole adventure had been a fool's errand. He could have stayed home in his grandmother's mansion. He could have taken a plush job in the Earth Defence Forces and begun work on a political career. As his grandmother wanted. Even though her hopes on his behalf were often misguided, he now believed she did want the best for him, but he had snubbed the old Battleaxe and commandeered her yacht to find Zhett.
Well, he had found the girl he loved, for all the good it did him. Now they were forcing him to jump to his death - and the damned beautiful girl who held his heart still hadn't said a word to him.
Patrick was painted into a corner - and had done much of the ‘painting himself. It was too late to run, nor did he want to. He had burned his bridges behind him.
Patrick lifted his head. His hair blew around his face, and he narrowed his eyes and looked straight ahead. The atmosphere-condenser fields were shut down, leaving the deck open to the empty skies. Del Kellum stood before him in judgement, as did the other skymine chiefs.
Boris Goff had returned from Theroc, Bing Palmer stood next to Del Kellum. In most of their expressions Patrick could read anger, self-justification, satisfaction, and uneasiness. Maybe they didn't really want