Patrick could not hide his satisfied smile. “Really — hundreds arrested? My message must have been distributed widely, then.” Lanyan was flustered, and Patrick decided to call his bluff. “I’d love a public opportunity to explain how the Hansa broke treaties, killed innocent people, provoked hostilities, destroyed the capital of a sovereign people. In fact, my grandmother will make certain I get the forum I need. Take me back, I dare you. What you’re doing here is illegal.”

“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 theGoliath 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 shehad helped those people escape. If she were going to become delusional, she could have done so long ago. After years of living at the bare edge of survival, knowing that the incomprehensible hive mind might kill her on a whim, Margaret had used the Klikiss behavior against them. She had made it possible for the doomed colonists to slip away before the insects could slaughter them. Nearly a hundred people had fled from Llaro. Including dear DD.

But the breedex refused to let her leave. While the others escaped, a group of Klikiss warriors had singled her out and captured her again. The hive mind wantedher, but she had no idea why. As an ambassador? A sounding board? A pet human being?

She shouted at the milling insects. “Why did you capture me if you don’t want me to do anything?”

But the new breedex chose not to answer through them. She threw a rock at a mottled brown digger, but the stone merely bounced off the chitin armor. The insects went about their bloodthirsty business, continuing the relentless assaults on other subhives, massacring countless rival Klikiss.

And ignoring her.

Her head pounded with the sound of their chittering. The smell of caustic powder, decay, and bitter insect pheromones caught in Margaret’s throat and nose. The tans and browns of the desolate landscape seemed harsher now, the edges sharper, even under pastel skies. Her eyes ached, as did her heart. She was stranded here.

Again, she cursed the Klikiss for holding her prisoner. It had felt so good to be among humans again. She missed DD. She missed Orli. She missed her son, Anton, whom she hadn’t seen in years. She still didn’t know what had happened to Davlin Lotze, though she assumed he was dead.

And, because the Klikiss had ceased communicating with her, she could get no answers to her questions. Though she walked among the hulking insects, pushing her way into their ranks, the creatures treated her as if she were no more than a tree or a rock to avoid. “Tell me why you want me here.”

In their constant chittering and humming, she heard no discernible reply.