The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [181]
He sealed the door and turned to her with a cold smile. “This will give us a few moments to talk in private. I wish I didn’t need to cause such disruption, but I couldn’t think of any other way. We don’t have much time.”
The bomb shelter wasted no space on comforts or decoration. The steel-reinforced walls were made of thick beige-painted blocks. A metal cabinet held food supplies and water; in the corner a polymer curtain surrounded a small chemical toilet, adjacent to which was a water recycler and sanitizer sink. The phosphorescent tiles in the ceiling would illuminate the chamber indefinitely.
Although Cain had secured the chamber, Sarein could still hear the throbbing alarm out in the corridors. The deputy kept his voice low. “It is more urgent than ever that we remove the Chairman. You know this, Sarein.”
“Of course I know it! But the first assassination attempt failed, and look what happened to McCammon — and eighteen innocent scapegoats.”
Deputy Cain withdrew a ceremonial dagger from his inner jacket pocket. Its ornate sheath was inscribed with the initials RRM: the ceremonial knife that McCammon had always worn as part of his royal guard uniform. “I recovered this from the Captain’s body before his possessions were disposed of. I cleaned off the bloodstains.” When he looked at her, the expression on Cain’s face and the way he held the knife in his hand frightened her. “I intended to give it to his family. I thought they’d want it as a token of his years of honorable service. But I found no one. Apparently, our Captain McCammon was alone in the world. He had no family to miss him.”
“We’ll miss him,” Sarein said, her voice catching in her throat. “We know what really happened.”
Cain tapped the pointed end of the sheathed dagger against his palm. “Ironically, the Captain’s death, coupled with the faeros attack on the Moon, may have bought us a little time. The Chairman no doubt believes that we have been frightened back into our places. He’s moved on to the next problem, and I’m sure he thinks we’ll behave ourselves.”
“He showed me surveillance images! He’s got proof against me.”
Cain shrugged. “And he quite probably has proof against me, as well. The question is, will we act before he does?”
Remembering Basil’s cold touch, Sarein shuddered and wondered if he would come to see her again. She could not let that happen. “We have to.”
He smiled. “Agreed. And we have no choice but to act precipitously. You may have noticed that an opportunity arose at the banquet. Peter extended an invitation that the Chairman cannot afford to decline. I doubt he’ll take King Rory with him, since that would put him at a tactical disadvantage, but he will go to the Confederation flagship. Behind closed doors, he will hammer Peter with his ultimatum and back it up with significant threats.”
She lowered her voice, not convinced — even during a disaster alarm — that Basil wasn’t eavesdropping. “What kind of threats?”
“Now that King Peter has seen Rory in person, the Chairman is ready for the coup de grâce. He’ll threaten to kill Rory . . . and I’m quite certain he means it. Under the circumstances, the Chairman is absolutely convinced Peter will back down, rather than let any harm come to his brother.”
“Is Rory his brother?”
“I have no idea. And neither does Peter.”
“Basil thought the Mage-Imperator would bow to his demands, too,” Sarein pointed out.
“We won’t give Peter the opportunity, either way. There’s too much at stake. While the Chairman is gone, Freedom’s Sword is perfectly positioned and ready to move.” Cain slowly drew the knife out of its sheath and looked down at the sharp silver blade. His meaning was clear.
“While the cat’s away?” she said.
“It has to be quick, and a surprise. As soon as he leaves, we make our move. I need your help.”
The very thought sent a chill down her spine,