The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [229]
Basil grabbed her small sidearm from the holster at her hip and stalked toward the throne four steps away, as if he and Peter were the only two people in the room. All of the guards swung their firearms toward him, though Peter had given them orders not to fire.
“Mr. Chairman, drop your weapon! Now!”
Basil completely ignored them, as if they were inconsequential.
Stationed at the base of the dais steps, Cain did not hesitate. As the Chairman strode dismissively past him, he drew the ceremonial dagger that Captain McCammon had so proudly worn. Swinging the knife in a smooth arc, he threw his weight into the blow.
The blade slammed into Chairman Wenceslas’s back, piercing him below his left shoulder blade, slightly to one side of the spine. Cain drove the point between the ribs and directly into Basil’s heart.
The Chairman stopped as if he had walked into a wall. Cain gave the knife an extra thrust.
Everyone froze in shock. Peter pushed away from his throne and sidestepped the guardian compy.
Deputy Cain held the dagger’s hilt, keeping the Chairman upright for a paralyzed instant. Basil’s hands twitched and he released his grip on the handgun, which dropped with a clatter to the throne room floor. His knees buckled, making him too heavy for the deputy to hold him up. Cain released the hilt, and the Chairman slid to the floor. Blood started to seep through the fabric of his expensive business suit.
Basil let out a long rattling sigh and rolled slightly so that his gray eyes met Cain’s. One last breath gurgled from the Chairman’s throat, as if he were trying mightily to utter some final expression of defiance, but he managed to find only one word before he died. “Disappointed . . .”
Cain looked coolly around the room, remembering how McCammon had bled across this very same floor. He spoke in a surprisingly loud voice.
“As deputy chairman, I hereby assume control of the Hansa.” He withdrew the dagger from the Chairman’s back, wiped the knife clean, flipped it over, and extended it hilt-first toward King Peter. “On behalf of the Confederation.”
* * *
159
Tasia Tamblyn
By the time Tasia and her companions got back to Earth and learned what had happened, the whole war was over — the Hansa and the Confederation, the black robots, the Ildiran Empire, the faeros, the wentals, the verdani. Everything. On their approach to Earth they intercepted numerous transmissions: Patrick Fitzpatrick’s exposés, Confederation reports, and newsnet stories.
“Shizz, and we missed it!”
Hud Steinman made a sour face. “I can’t complain about being left out of all that.”
“We did our part,” Orli assured Tasia. “And from the news stories, I’d say it had a pretty significant effect on how things turned out.”
Kotto was still floating with excitement that his Siren had worked so well. Moving from world to world, they had found and completely knocked out ten of the separated subhives. That had been enough to topple the One Breedex.
Dodging the wreckage strewn like a metallic asteroid belt around the military ships in Earth orbit, Tasia flew toward the Jupiter.
“Admiral Willis,” she transmitted to the Juggernaut. “Are you ready for some company? My team has very interesting news about the Klikiss . . . or what’s left of them.”
The responding voice did not belong to the Admiral, though. “You’re always welcome aboard my ship, Tamblyn — even if you were off on a little joyride while the rest of us were saving the world.”
“Joyride? Excuse me, Commodore Brindle, but we’d better compare notes before we decide whose accomplishments trump whose.”
Robb laughed. “Come aboard the Jupiter. We’d love to hear about your exploits. Admiral Willis is on her way back here, too.”
The reunion aboard the Juggernaut was a happy one. Kotto had never been on such a large EDF ship before, and he poked around the bridge, incessantly asking questions. Steinman wanted to find the crew’s mess