The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [200]
He contacted the pilot. “Increase speed. Let’s get this over with.” The man must be sweating, but he didn’t argue with the Chairman’s orders.
Basil called for an EDF escort as the diplomatic shuttle flew out to where the eleven swarmships waited beyond the orbit of the shattered Moon. While General Brindle remained ready in the Goliath, Admirals Pike and San Luis flew their Mantas on either side of the shuttle. Still not a terribly impressive procession.
The shuttle pilot called Basil to the cockpit. “Mr. Chairman, I have a message from Admiral Pike. He wishes to speak with you personally.”
Frowning at the interruption, Basil made his way forward. Without being invited, Margaret and Anton Colicos followed. Ahead of them, out of the shuttle’s front windowports, Basil could see the looming alien craft growing larger as they closed the distance.
The pilot gestured to the communication panel. “He’s on screen, Mr. Chairman.”
Admiral Pike’s glowering image appeared, looking impatient. Basil leaned forward into the focal zone. “Yes, what is it?” Basil asked.
“If the fate of the world wasn’t at stake, we would blast your shuttle to ions right now, just as you commanded me to destroy Chairman Fitzpatrick’s space yacht. The bugs can have you, as far as we’re concerned.”
Basil blinked, momentarily speechless. Now what? He felt a sense of unreality, as if he had fallen into some kind of distorted mirror world. “What are you talking about, Admiral?”
Admiral San Luis broke into the transmission. “Our families have been freed. You no longer have any hold over us.”
Pike lifted his chin, and his eyes were pitiless. “They’re safe, Mr. Chairman. Their story is being broadcast by Freedom’s Sword. Admiral Diente’s family is doing the same. Everyone knows what you’ve done, sir. No matter what happens, you can’t blackmail us any longer. When you do come back to Earth, you will not find a warm reception from us, nor from anyone in the EDF.”
Basil felt blindsided. And then he realized that Pike and San Luis had broadcast on a completely open channel.
The two Admirals ended the transmission, and the escort Mantas on either side of the diplomatic shuttle altered course and peeled away, leaving the small craft all alone in space as it approached the alien swarmships.
A chain-saw ache pressed into the back of his skull. His carefully laid foundations were turning to quicksand.
Margaret Colicos looked at him. “The timing could have been better.”
Basil drew deep breaths to drive back the red fringes in his vision, staring at the foremost of the huge Klikiss ships until his eyes burned. No one dared to speak a word in the cockpit.
The diplomatic shuttle drew close to the enormous sphere. Millions of component craft moved about like grains of sand trying to keep a proper configuration, shifting, blurring, shifting again.
Finally, the pilot said in a small voice, “I can’t find any port or access to the interior of the swarmship, Mr. Chairman. What should I do?”
“Just keep heading forward,” Margaret answered for him. “You’ll see what you need.”
Basil’s throat was dry. His skin prickled with goose bumps. He clenched his fists so hard that his well-manicured nails cut crescent-shaped grooves into his palms. One problem at a time. Prioritize. He would take care of the others later . . . if he survived.
“Are we supposed to read minds?” he said testily. “Why doesn’t the breedex issue some instructions?”
“The breedex doesn’t have to.”
As they neared the external shell, the component craft suddenly re-arranged themselves, and the outer layer of vessels broke off like gases blown from a sun’s surface. The hive vessel seemed to be evaporating, spreading out.
Basil flinched