Nonsense? Estarra asked in a low voice. We have only offered assistance, while you have raided Roamer skymines, shipyards, and fuel depots. Are you trying to provoke us to war?
He glared at the Queen like a teacher warning a difficult child. He glanced over to make sure that none of the imagers were close enough to pick up his words, then looked coldly at Peter. Enough of your delusions of grandeur. Surrender your crown and dissolve your silly Confederation. The Hansa has guided humanity for three centuries. Now that we face the Klikiss and the faeros, and who knows what else, we must not be divided. I am the one most fit to guide us through this.
By what measure? Peter was surprised the man could even say such a thing.
The Chairmans expression darkened, predictably, when the conversation did not go his way. Let me be perfectly clear. I have been a respected leader since well before you were born. It will be best for all concerned if you simply do as I say. If you force me to use my leverage, I will not hesitate
Peter let out a bitter chuckle. Leverage? Like your inept ploy with this young man? Its a gesture of total desperation, and you know it. He shook his head sadly and looked at the boy King. I know who the Chairman wants me to think you are, Rory or whatever your name is. You do bear a close resemblance to my little brother, but tonight youve said nothing to convince me that youre really him.
Ive made no claims of that whatsoever. Rory lowered his gaze and looked away. Im not allowed to.
The comment told Peter a great deal. Again, he studied the young mans profile, his eyes, the shape of his nose, wondering if the features had been changed or enhanced. or if they were natural.
Basils eyes looked like twin thunderstorms, and Peter could see he was ready to explode. Down the table, Sarein was watching the exchange, and though she couldnt hear their words, she looked extremely alarmed.
Abruptly, Peter stood and turned to Estarra, taking the protocol attendees by surprise. He was finished playing Basils game. He raised his voice. Mr. Chairman, thank you for coming up into the light of day to allow us this fine meal. Rory, please allow me to reciprocate and invite you to my Confederation flagship so that I can demonstrate our goodwill and hospitality shall we say in two days? Of course, you are most welcome to bring the Chairman with you. He lowered his voice and quietly growled to Basil, Ill have an answer for you then about reuniting the human race.
At a slight nod from the agitated Chairman, King Rory brightly accepted the invitation as all the imagers captured the moment.
Basil seemed to be trying to figure out how to have the last word even as Peter and the rest of his retinue took leave of the Whisper Palace and followed their escorts back toward the spaceport. Estarra cast one last glance back at Sarein, who seemed unsuccessfully to be trying to communicate something.
Peter transmitted to Admiral Willis that they had been released unharmed and would be returning to theJupiter shortly. He wasnt certain exactly what the Chairman had meant to accomplish with this meeting, but Peter had achieved his own aims. Were done here, Admiral. It was quite a successful evening.
Willis acknowledged. Estarra was disturbed and preoccupied as they boarded the diplomatic shuttle that would take them back up to the Confederation ships patrolling beyond the lunar orbit.
In his former life, as the streetwise kid named Raymond, Peter had learned how to pick pockets. Though he was now King, he had never forgotten important skills. Now, as the shuttle lifted off and flew away from the Palace District, Peter carefully held on to the piece of silverware he had discreetly slipped up his sleeve. While OX had made a show of picking up a dropped spoon, Peter had palmed the fork from Rorys plate. A fork with his DNA.
123
Sarein
Sarein withdrew to her quarters after being released from her rigidly defined duties at the banquet Keep talking to a minimum, Basil had said. Youre there to remind Estarra that you arewith me. Thats all.
He had returned to his private shelter deep underground, leaving her up here. Basil hadnt spoken a word to her after the banquet, though she supposed he was still watching her every move.
As she lay back on a settee in her quarters, trying to remember every word her sister had spoken during dinner, an evacuation alarm shattered her concentration. The obnoxious racket demanded her full attention. Because of the imminent threat of meteor bombardment, everyone knew how to find the closest evacuation shelters. The thick-walled rooms would supposedly provide protection in the event of a complete building collapse, although if a large enough fragment of the Moon smashed into the Palace District, everything would be vaporized for kilometers around.
In response to the alarm, Sarein ran from her rooms, taking nothing with her. All of her favorite possessions had been removed anyway when Basil had ordered the remodeling of her quarters. She hurried down the hall, dropped down a level, and raced into the nearest VIP shelter. With the evacuation alert still sounding, she ducked into the small room and saw that someone had arrived ahead of her: Deputy Eldred Cain.
He sealed the door and turned to her with a cold smile. This will give us a few moments to talk in private. I wish I didnt need to cause such disruption, but I couldnt think of any other way. We dont have much time.
The bomb shelter wasted no space on comforts or decoration. The steel-reinforced walls were made of thick beige-painted blocks. A metal cabinet held food supplies and water; in the corner a polymer curtain surrounded a small chemical toilet, adjacent to which was a water recycler and sanitizer sink. The phosphorescent tiles in the ceiling would illuminate the chamber indefinitely.
Although Cain had secured the chamber, Sarein could still hear the throbbing alarm out in the corridors. The deputy kept his voice low. It is more urgent than ever that we remove the Chairman. You know this, Sarein.
Of course I know it! But the first assassination attempt failed, and look what happened to McCammon and eighteen innocent scapegoats.
Deputy Cain withdrew a ceremonial dagger from his inner jacket pocket. Its ornate sheath was inscribed with the initialsRRM: the ceremonial knife that McCammon had always worn as part of his royal guard uniform. I recovered this from the Captains body before his possessions were disposed of. I cleaned off the bloodstains. When he looked at her, the expression on Cains face and the way he held the knife in his hand frightened her. I intended to give it to his family. I thought theyd want it as a token of his years of honorable service. But I found no one. Apparently, our Captain McCammon was alone in the world. He had no family to miss him.