Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [31]
"They can't do much but pray for us," Eolus growled. "Don't expect outside help."
Three Soldier compies charged down the corridor toward the Eldorado's bridge, leaping like mechanical hyenas. Sergeant Briggs stood his ground at the access door to the bridge, shooting his projectile weapon down the hall. The slugs slammed into the oncoming compies, leaving craters in their torso armor; momentum knocked them backward. Rossia flinched at the noise.
"Mister Briggs, are you ready to seal the bulkhead doors?" Eolus bellowed.
"As soon as I shoot just a couple more, Admiral." Six more compies rushed in from other corridors. Briggs fired again and again, calling for reinforcements.
"Admiral, look!" The navigator pointed toward the screen as two more escort Mantas flew off to join the first stolen pair.
Eolus ground his teeth together so hard that the muscles in his jaw stood out like cables. He glared out into the corridor where Briggs and his comrades continued to fire at the oncoming compies, then loosed an avalanche of booming words. "Damned robots aren't getting my ship!"
17
KING PETER
Another pointless social ceremony. Wearing uncomfortable regal attire, King Peter attended an innocuous banquet to present service medals to local Palace District businessmen. Basil Wenceslas sat at the reception table, dapper in his perfectly cut business suit. His expression was cool, his gray eyes placid except for when Peter met his gaze. Didn't the Chairman have anything better to do with his time? Or is he that worried about me?
This was a far cry from rallying the human race to stand firm against the hydrogues, but at least the Chairman hadn't ordered Peter to deliver incendiary lies about the Roamers. Not today. Basil seemed to feel that if he was tough and unyielding, then everyone would bow to his instructions. But the Chairman's hard-line stance against the clans had backfired, and even his staunch supporters realized that their "victory" of destroying Rendezvous was pointless. The Roamers were scattered, and the Hansa still had no supplier of stardrive fuel.
Peter did not respond well to that sort of coercion, either. When the puppet King reacted by blatantly breaking the rules, Basil had retaliated by attempting to assassinate him and Estarra, and later by slaughtering the dolphins as a sick punishment.
Peter pretended to cooperate, if only to keep his wife and unborn child alive. He didn't take his eyes from the Chairman, who sat with calm confidence. He truly hated the man. Peter had to stay one step ahead of him, be smarter, more careful--and that was difficult when Basil Wenceslas had the resources of the entire Hansa behind him.
Lately, while the media clamored for comments from the WhisperPalace about Estarra's "blessed pregnancy," Basil kept the King and Queen out of the public spotlight as much as possible. Reporters and pundits had begun to make increasingly agitated comments, wanting to know why the royal couple weren't seen more often. Grudgingly, the Chairman brought the King out for minor activities, separate from Queen Estarra. Such as this banal ceremony, a tedious bureaucratic duty dance that interested few people except for those directly involved. Apparently, Basil was confident the King could do no damage here.
Seven royal guards were stationed along the walls, ostensibly to protect King Peter, but more likely to keep him in line. The head of the royal guard, Captain McCammon, stood like a statue, as uninterested in the presentation of awards as Peter himself was.
Deputy Eldred Cain, the quiet and pale-skinned man who had secretly helped Peter and Estarra, was not in attendance. Cain was even more averse to public appearances than Basil Wenceslas, not that he was missing anything here.
Wearing a wooden smile, the King held up a ribbon and medal for the audience to admire. "For service to humanity and for his tireless work with local charities,