The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [185]
Sarein’s mind was a whirlwind of clashing thoughts. Did he really remember some hint of emotion toward her? Or was this just another kind of manipulation? She couldn’t forget the damning set of surveillance images he had hidden under her pillow, a clear warning that he knew she had done things for which he could easily execute her. She blinked as a strange thought crossed her mind. What if Basil had meant the gesture not as a threat, but as a favor, to prove that he knew of her indiscretions and yet was willing to forgive her?
Basil smiled as if an idea had just occurred to him, but Sarein was sure he had planned it carefully. “While I am gone, I want you to move your possessions into my private quarters underground. Stay there with me, safe in the bunker. We’ll be together every day.”
Though alarmed by the idea, she found herself nodding with feigned enthusiasm . . . nothing to provoke him, nothing to raise his suspicions. She wanted nothing more than to leave immediately. “I can’t wait” was all she said.
“Good. I’ll look forward to seeing you when I return.” He seemed convinced by her performance.
“Goodbye, Basil.”
He went to the door, hesitated briefly. For one horrified instant, Sarein thought he was going to come back to kiss her . . . but then he hurried off, leaving her frozen in place.
Yes, it was time to move. No regrets.
* * *
127
Deputy Chairman Eldred Cain
As soon as the Chairman’s ship left the Palace District spaceport, Deputy Cain got to work. He had a great deal to accomplish in a short time.
Cain would have preferred to have Sarein at his side, along with Captain McCammon and a mob of shouting protesters all claiming to belong to Freedom’s Sword. But in a sense, solo action was more liberating, now that the Chairman was gone. Cain was free to act without coordinating with others and without the fear of risking anyone else’s life. The responsibility was his and his alone. He found it more efficient.
Admiral Diente was already dead, having tried his best to meet the Chairman’s unreasonable expectations. Cain saw no reason why the Admiral’s family should remain under house arrest — except for the fact that the Hansa wouldn’t want them out in public where they could talk. Still held in their special detention apartments, they hadn’t even been informed of his death; Basil claimed that it kept the family more tractable. Once Diente’s wife and children discovered the truth, though, Cain was certain they would have plenty to say.
At the apartment complex, he easily bluffed his way past the guards. “Their detention order is rescinded.” He showed them an official-looking Hansa document. In all the turmoil on Earth, no one had bothered with the hostage family in some time. The guards shrugged.
Inside, when Cain opened the doorway of the secure apartment and looked at the shocked and haunted faces of the wife, the daughters, the son, he realized he wasn’t the best person to pass along the heartbreaking news; he had never been particularly good at warmth and compassion. He saw the four of them staring at him.
“Are you here to let us out?” the wife asked. He chided himself for not having bothered to familiarize himself with her name. “Do you have news?”
He stated what he needed to say. “I regret to inform you that Admiral Esteban Diente has been killed on a mission to the Klikiss. It . . . happened some weeks ago, but the Chairman has kept the information from you.”
The wife began sobbing, as if she had been expecting the announcement as soon as Cain arrived. The teenaged girl and the twelve-year-old boy gasped and shouted in disbelief; the younger daughter didn’t understand what was going on.
Cain faltered, then continued. “All along, you were being held here under false pretenses. Chairman Wenceslas kept you hostage so that Admiral