The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [180]
Peter let out a bitter chuckle. “Leverage? Like your inept ploy with this young man? It’s a gesture of total desperation, and you know it.” He shook his head sadly and looked at the boy King. “I know who the Chairman wants me to think you are, Rory — or whatever your name is. You do bear a close resemblance to my little brother, but tonight you’ve said nothing to convince me that you’re really him.”
“I’ve made no claims of that whatsoever.” Rory lowered his gaze and looked away. “I’m not allowed to.”
The comment told Peter a great deal. Again, he studied the young man’s profile, his eyes, the shape of his nose, wondering if the features had been changed or enhanced . . . or if they were natural.
Basil’s eyes looked like twin thunderstorms, and Peter could see he was ready to explode. Down the table, Sarein was watching the exchange, and though she couldn’t hear their words, she looked extremely alarmed.
Abruptly, Peter stood and turned to Estarra, taking the protocol attendees by surprise. He was finished playing Basil’s game. He raised his voice. “Mr. Chairman, thank you for coming up into the light of day to allow us this fine meal. Rory, please allow me to reciprocate and invite you to my Confederation flagship so that I can demonstrate our goodwill and hospitality — shall we say in two days? Of course, you are most welcome to bring the Chairman with you.” He lowered his voice and quietly growled to Basil, “I’ll have an answer for you then about reuniting the human race.”
At a slight nod from the agitated Chairman, King Rory brightly accepted the invitation as all the imagers captured the moment.
Basil seemed to be trying to figure out how to have the last word even as Peter and the rest of his retinue took leave of the Whisper Palace and followed their escorts back toward the spaceport. Estarra cast one last glance back at Sarein, who seemed unsuccessfully to be trying to communicate something.
Peter transmitted to Admiral Willis that they had been released unharmed and would be returning to the Jupiter shortly. He wasn’t certain exactly what the Chairman had meant to accomplish with this meeting, but Peter had achieved his own aims. “We’re done here, Admiral. It was quite a successful evening.”
Willis acknowledged. Estarra was disturbed and preoccupied as they boarded the diplomatic shuttle that would take them back up to the Confederation ships patrolling beyond the lunar orbit.
In his former life, as the streetwise kid named Raymond, Peter had learned how to pick pockets. Though he was now King, he had never forgotten important skills. Now, as the shuttle lifted off and flew away from the Palace District, Peter carefully held on to the piece of silverware he had discreetly slipped up his sleeve. While OX had made a show of picking up a dropped spoon, Peter had palmed the fork from Rory’s plate. A fork with his DNA.
* * *
123
Sarein
Sarein withdrew to her quarters after being released from her rigidly defined duties at the banquet — “Keep talking to a minimum,” Basil had said. “You’re there to remind Estarra that you are with me. That’s all.”
He had returned to his private shelter deep underground, leaving her up here. Basil hadn’t spoken a word to her after the banquet, though she supposed he was still watching her every move.
As she lay back on a settee in her quarters, trying to remember every word her sister had spoken during dinner, an evacuation alarm shattered her concentration. The obnoxious racket demanded her full attention. Because of the imminent threat of meteor bombardment, everyone knew how to find the closest evacuation shelters. The thick-walled rooms would supposedly provide protection in the event of a complete building collapse, although if a large enough fragment of the Moon smashed into the Palace District, everything would be vaporized for kilometers around.
In response to the alarm, Sarein ran from her rooms, taking nothing with her. All of her favorite possessions had been removed anyway when Basil had ordered the remodeling of her quarters.