The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [93]
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Patrick finally blurted out something he had been meaning to say since he arrived. “Grandmother, I know you used to think of me as headstrong and selfish and immature — ”
“Used to?” she broke in.
“I’m trying to apologize here!” He flushed red, and Maureen fell awkwardly silent. Neither he nor his grandmother was good at this. “I was a lazy, spoiled pain in the ass, but I’ve learned that I need to work for what I want, whether it’s respect or belongings.”
“Not much room for lazy people in a Roamer outpost,” Zhett said. “We straightened him out, eventually.”
The former Chairman narrowed her eyes. “You showed some of that when you got in the middle of the EDF and the Roamers, when you made me broker a cease-fire at Osquivel. I could see you weren’t the same old Patrick.” She grew serious. “I always knew you had a lot more potential than your parents did. That’s why I was so hard on you. You just needed to get your head on straight.”
Patrick felt a lump in his throat. He squeezed Zhett’s hand. “When I came home, I sulked around, didn’t do much of anything, but I knew what was really going on out there. I had to take a stand. I couldn’t go back to serve the EDF when I knew that they had started the war with the Roamers. So I ran. I’m sorry I abused your trust by stealing your space yacht. I didn’t think of anyone but myself. I was rationalizing, taking what I needed.”
He thought of how Chairman Wenceslas and General Lanyan justified raids on Roamers, Ildirans, human colonies — even committing murder — simply because they “needed” something. But Patrick refused to think like they did.
Maureen made an awkward gesture of dismissal. “I’ve got plenty of personal ships. You didn’t cause me a moment’s hardship — I was more annoyed that you’d run off just because you were heartsick for some girl.” Before Zhett could interject, Maureen continued. “I can’t say I’m pleased that you deserted the EDF, but I didn’t listen to you either. I thought you needed therapy to get over your delusions, but dammit, you were right — at least for the most part. I watched the rah-rah images of the pogrom on Usk; I listen to the crazy Archfather; I see what the Chairman’s special cleanup crew is doing every day.” She shook her head in disgust.
General Lanyan came on one of the newscreens, suddenly drawing all of their attention. With great fanfare he announced the launch of a new military initiative against the Klikiss in order to “avenge the senseless murder of Admiral Diente and his peaceful diplomatic mission to Pym.” In a bold, gruff voice, he vowed to “teach the vicious insect race to fear the Earth Defense Forces.” Patrick noted that the newsnets mentioned neither Lanyan’s piracy at the Golgen skymines, nor how he had been resoundingly beaten at Osquivel.
“Asshole.” Maureen rolled her eyes at the General’s bravado. “Lanyan’s come crawling home with his tail between his legs so often he’s getting calluses on his backside.”
Patrick scowled. “I can’t believe I used to admire him.”
“You used to be remarkably ill informed, Fitzie,” Zhett teased, “not to mention thickheaded.”
“Thanks.”
Maureen couldn’t tear her eyes from the newsnet screen. “Lanyan’s latest boondoggle isn’t half as stupid as Basil’s boneheaded new plan to cooperate with the black robots. Why the hell is a Hansa Chairman agreeing to manufacture more of those damned alien machines?”
Patrick said, “Is it any wonder the opposition groups are growing louder, even though he tries to stomp them down? He pumps up the fear to keep the people believing his iron fist is better than the alternative — but they don’t think about any alternatives.”
“They don’t bother to think at all,” Maureen said with a sniff. “Bunch of sheep. At least