The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [26]
“Roamers have no legal standing in the Hansa.”
“Not true. My grandmother entered into an agreement with clan Kellum, speaking officially as a former Hansa Chairman. She promised them their freedom and guaranteed that neither they nor their facilities would be harassed by the EDF in exchange for them surrendering a valuable hydrogue derelict. The Roamers held up their side of the bargain. You’ve reneged.”
Lanyan shrugged. “Once King Peter stole the derelict back and delivered it to the Roamers, all bets were off.”
Patrick was startled by this information; he hadn’t been aware that the alien ship was back in the hands of the Confederation. He hadn’t expected Lanyan to know about the deal at all.
Lanyan motioned for him. “Come to the operations center, Fitzpatrick, and help me go through the databases to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”
“I won’t help.”
“Then you can watch as I blunder around in your computerized systems. Who knows what damage I might cause?” Patrick grudgingly followed him to a lift, while Kellum remained behind, glowering as soldiers continued loading tank after tank of stolen stardrive fuel.
In the ops center that crowned the skymine dome, broad windows looked out upon the endless yellowish skies. Zhett was single-handedly trying to keep soldiers from the database control panels, but they ignored her. That had put her in a murderous mood. “You clods shouldn’t be allowed to run an abacus!”
One of the technicians fumbled with a touchpad, frowning when the systems froze on him.
A soldier shouted, “General Lanyan on the bridge!”
“It’s not a bridge,” Patrick said. “It’s an operations center.” In the distance, he could see another skymine, Boris Goff’s, also surrounded by EDF ships.
“Status report,” Lanyan demanded. “Have you run a full inventory?”
“As near as we can tell, sir,” said the blundering technician. “It’s a very disorganized system, not to military specs at all.”
Zhett stood close to Patrick and put her fists on his shoulder as if she wanted to pound on something. He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her close, restraining her.
When the General saw him holding the young woman, he seemed greatly amused. “So the well-bred Patrick Fitzpatrick III has found himself a pretty little Roamer mistress. How sweet.”
“She’s not my mistress. She’s my wife.”
Lanyan burst out laughing. “And would your grandmother still support you if she knew about that?”
Patrick remained cool. “I’m sure her wedding gift is already on its way.” He didn’t mention that he had neglected to send the old Battleaxe an invitation.
The technician had finally succeeded in calling up screens full of numbers. “Looks like we got it all, General. Other than the expected losses on cargo ships and a few ekti escort haulers that initially escaped our net, we have secured and transferred all the available fuel on these skymines.”
“Our work here is done, then.” Lanyan raked a self-satisfied gaze across the glowering Roamers in the operations center. “We’ll be back when the time is right. I’m sure Chairman Wenceslas will want to manage this in his own particular way.”
The innocent-eyed lieutenant burst into the ops center, looking flushed. “There you are, General! We’ve picked up the tracer signal on one of the cargo escorts we tagged. We can follow it to another Roamer depot or industrial facility, if you like.”
“I would like that very much. Tell the Goliath to prepare for immediate departure.” Snapping orders for his crew to finish up, he left Fitzpatrick and Zhett standing together in the operations center.
Before long the EDF raiders departed in a ponderous group, like bumblebees overloaded with pollen.
* * *
15
Margaret Colicos
Trapped on Llaro and surrounded by Klikiss, Margaret wondered if all those escaped colonists had been only a dream. Orli Covitz, Hud Steinman, Tasia Tamblyn, Robb Brindle . . . She no longer even had her faithful compy DD. Yes, they had gotten away. Margaret was completely alone . . . except for the monsters.
But she had helped those