The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [164]
“Never thought I’d say it,” Willis commented, lounging back in her command chair, “but this looks like a job too big even for the Roamer clans — and those people are insane!”
“Insane? Or desperate?”
“One often leads to the other.”
Emergency crews had to prioritize which fragments posed the largest potential danger. Using concentrated jazer fire, powerful explosives, and some of Willis’s stockpiled nukes, the Confederation ships broke the largest objects into chunks small enough to theoretically burn up in the atmosphere. Some giant fragments were far enough away that carefully planted explosions deflected them into safer orbits, easing the problem at least temporarily.
Experienced Roamer scouts quickly showed the stodgier EDF pilots how it was done. Squadrons of ships combed the nearby volume of space all day long, searching the emptiness and back-calculating the projected paths of lunar rubble.
Several more repaired EDF ships had been released from the robot construction complexes to join the scout fleet. Every new vessel helped. Even so, Robb didn’t view the black robots too kindly. After being held prisoner inside a gas giant by hydrogues and black robots, knowing how the robots had betrayed Tasia, and how they had hijacked much of the EDF fleet, Robb remained suspicious.
On the main screen on the Jupiter’s bridge, he saw the large open-architecture vessels that Sirix and his comrades were building for themselves, right in view of Earth. The alien configurations had been adapted from old Klikiss plans. Why would Chairman Wenceslas allow them to do that? It defied belief.
Willis’s executive officer reported to the bridge. “The EDF command shuttle has just docked, ma’am. General Brindle will be here momentarily.”
She looked at Robb, knowing full well what she was asking. “Would you please escort him up to the bridge?”
Robb’s stomach was in knots, but he forced a smile that fooled no one. “Sure, Admiral. I’d be happy to.”
His father came alone, leaving his protocol officers aboard his shuttle. Robb knew the man liked to do things himself. General Brindle. He still couldn’t get used to his father’s title. Of course, he himself was now “Commodore.”
Conrad Brindle stood in the corridor in front of the lift, wearing a snappy new EDF uniform complete with fresh stars on his shoulders. Instead of his usual unreadable expression, a succession of emotions played visibly across the older man’s face.
Robb stared at him for a moment and finally said, “I . . . I don’t know whether or not I’m supposed to salute you.”
His father frowned. “I wouldn’t worry about a thing like that now. We’ve got more important matters to deal with.”
“I’ll take you to Fleet Admiral Willis, then.” Robb gestured for him to enter the lift. Then he added, “We’ve always been trying to help, you know.” He realized that this might be their only brief chance to talk alone. The lift doors whisked shut, and they began to ascend to the bridge. “Thank you for what you did at Pym.” They both knew that Conrad’s actions had probably saved Robb’s life there.
“General Lanyan made it necessary.” His father looked at him coolly, then finally burst out, “Robb, I was furious with you for abandoning me on Theroc. Your training, your oaths of loyalty, your impeccable service . . . all thrown away for a bunch of rebels who tore up the Hansa Charter? You turned your back on the Hansa, on the EDF.”
“But not on Earth, and never you. I always did what I thought was best for Earth, and I stand by the course I chose.” Robb stiffened, facing the closed doors, knowing they would open on the bridge at any moment.
Instead of making a bitter retort, Conrad surprised Robb by nodding slowly. “For my own part, I thought I was being loyal to Earth by remaining true