The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [179]
Sarein did speak up to ask about baby Reynald, and Estarra was pleased to tell her sister about the little boy.
“I hope I can see him someday,” Sarein said, then stopped talking, as if sure she had said too much.
Peter turned coolly to the Chairman. “So, Basil, is it true that you have relocated your main office from the Hansa HQ to an underground bunker somewhere? Are you really hiding under a rock during Earth’s greatest crisis?”
Basil’s expression tightened. “You are reading too much into the matter. I found it prudent to activate a more secure secondary command center. In the meantime, King Rory stays here in the Whisper Palace and is available for public appearances anytime he is needed.”
“So you consider the Whisper Palace to be perfectly safe, then?” Peter started to make a gesture with one hand to indicate the palace around them, but his sleeve brushed over a piece of the ornate silverware and knocked it off the table. Peter tried to catch it, but it fell to the floor, and the blunder diminished the seriousness of his question. OX bent to retrieve the offending implement.
Basil smiled at the clatter. “Are you nervous, Peter?”
“Just clumsy.” He made sure the imagers captured his self-deprecating smile; then he surprised the Chairman with a serious question. “I’d like to take this opportunity to officially request the release of Patrick Fitzpatrick and his wife. They are Confederation citizens.”
Basil looked as if he had swallowed something sticky and unpleasant. “They are accused of sedition, a very serious crime, especially during such an extreme emergency. The Hansa is not inclined to be lenient.”
“Yes, we saw how you dealt with former Chairman Maureen Fitzpatrick,” Estarra said.
Basil called for the music to begin.
When the main meal was over and coffees and sweet liqueurs were served, Peter sipped his coffee — ironically flavored with cardamom, Basil’s signature drink. The Chairman himself had accepted only ice water with a slice of lemon to drink.
At the opposite end of the table, Deputy Cain read a statement of gratitude for all the volunteer ships that had come to the aid of Earth. Cain so rarely spoke in public that Peter couldn’t understand why he, and not King Rory, had been chosen for such a duty. Then he saw that Basil wanted the audience to be distracted so that he could speak quietly with Peter. “And what exactly is your game? Bringing all your Confederation ships here — what are you really after, Peter? I’m keeping all EDF vessels on high alert in case you try something.”
Estarra made a disbelieving sound. “We came here to help, whether you choose to believe it or not.”
“Earth has suffered incalculable disaster, Basil,” Peter said. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”
“What I’ve noticed is a full-fledged military fleet on my doorstep and a former King who has made it plain that he wants to remove me. It’s time for this nonsense to stop, for the good of the human race.”
“Nonsense?” Estarra asked in a low voice. “We have only offered assistance, while you have raided Roamer skymines, shipyards, and fuel depots. Are you trying to provoke us to war?”
He glared at the Queen like a teacher warning a difficult child. He glanced over to make sure that none of the imagers were close enough to pick up his words, then looked coldly at Peter. “Enough of your delusions of grandeur. Surrender your crown and dissolve your silly Confederation. The Hansa has guided humanity for three centuries. Now that we face the Klikiss and the faeros, and who knows what else, we must not be divided. I am the one most fit to guide us through this.”
“By what measure?” Peter was surprised the man could even say such a thing.
The Chairman’s expression darkened, predictably, when the conversation did not go his way. “Let me be perfectly clear. I have been a respected leader since well before you were born. It will be best for all concerned if you simply do as I say. If you force me to use my