Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [33]
Peter glared daggers at Basil as he said for all to hear, "We missed our chance a long time ago! Everyone will recall that I expressed my suspicions about using Klikiss programming in our Soldier compies. I tried to shut down the manufacturing facilities as a precaution, but they were reopened against my better judgment." He looked directly at the Chairman. "That was a poor decision, based on extremely bad advice."
Basil was already making his way toward the podium, his face a storm of emotions. Peter knew how the Chairman hated to admit errors, knew Basil would try to deal with this disaster quietly, minimize its seriousness. He wouldn't mind if more people died, just so the Hansa could save face.
But Peter had the full attention of the media cameras, and the audience was listening. A King had to do what needed to be done, and no one could openly countermand him during such an emergency.
His face turned hot as he thought of all those Soldier compies with built-in triggers that activated at the same time. Peter acted on impulse. "If this rogue streak is intrinsic to their programming, then every recently manufactured Soldier compy is a time bomb ready to explode--and our factory is still producing them." He addressed the royal guards in a tone of unmistakable command: "Shut the compy factory down immediately. Alert all local defense forces to contain the Soldier compies, should they react. Bring in the silver berets. We can't take chances."
The royal guards hesitated while Basil fought his way toward the podium amidst the turmoil. Peter didn't wait. "Captain McCammon! You have your orders." The media imagers turned toward the balking guards.
Dr. Anselm Frick stood and flashed his new service medal, as if it gave him some sort of military rank, and started shouting. "You heard him, man! It's treason against the King, this is. Do as you're ordered!"
"What are you waiting for?" someone else yelled, appalled at the guards' hesitation. Other audience members began to demand action.
Standing firm, Peter said, "Captain, do your duty or be relieved of it."
Finally, his words seemed to sink in. McCammon snapped orders, and the royal guards hurried from the room, calling on their comms to organize an operation around the Palace District's huge Soldier compy factory.
Peter knew he was far overstepping his authority, but he had to show his strength. The people would admire him for it, though he shuddered to think how Basil would retaliate as soon as the crisis abated. If it abated.
18
JESS TAMBLYN
Like a bullet made of water and pearl, Jess's vessel shot through energy-laced storm clouds alive with wental essence. The sea was a churning froth the color of molten lead. In this primordial planet's sterile ocean, he'd begun his long, strange quest to bring the elemental beings back to life. His volunteers had named the planet Charybdis after the deadly whirlpool encountered by Odysseus.
Here, if Jess could convince them, the wentals would repay their debt.
With a knot in his stomach, he repeated the question he'd asked Nikko a thousand times over the past several days. "How is Cesca?"
"She's cold, clammy. Her skin looks funny, and there're dark spots of pooling blood inside. She drifts in and out of consciousness. Jess, I don't think she has much time left."
"The wentals can still help her." He tried to keep the anger out of his voice.
Below, on one of the rare patches of solid ground, black rocks glistened with wild spray. Jess's vessel floated above the patch of upthrust rock and released the Aquarius, like an insect gently depositing an egg on the surface of a leaf. The small Roamer ship rested on the barren spit of land, its regrown hull sheathed in living water. While it was suspended in the larger wental vessel, tiny aquatic creatures had furiously made repairs. With corals and metals, the wental-guided creatures had grown scablike excrescences to patch and reinforce the hull. The Aquarius was now an amalgam of Roamer technology and wental