Just that morning she had heard reports of a new outspoken group calling themselves “Freedom’s Sword,” which had hijacked several newsnets and rebroadcast Patrick Fitzpatrick’s damning confession that accused the Hansa of provoking war with the Roamers. The best security crackdowns had been unable to trace the saboteurs, and so they had gotten away.

Furious, Basil had assigned Colonel Andez and her cleanup crew to investigate the problem. A cold thought struck her. Did the Chairman doubt Sarein’s loyalty? Had he seen something? Her little meeting with Nira and the treeling, perhaps?

Seeing her concern, McCammon touched her arm, and she felt an irrational desire to move closer to him, but she didn’t dare, especially in front of these workers. Realizing what time it was, she cleared her throat and spoke in a formal voice. “Have you come to escort me to the meeting, Captain?” Basil had been excited about meeting with Admiral Diente in the Hansa HQ, and she had asked to be included. She had also requested that McCammon take her there, since it was the only way for him to be present.

“Yes, Ambassador.”

Paying no more attention to the bustling redecorators, she walked briskly down the hall with the royal guard captain. “We’d better go, then. The Chairman won’t wait for us.”

Chairman Wenceslas sat at his deskscreen across from Admiral Diente, tapping fingertips on the polished surface. The Admiral stood rigidly at attention, while Deputy Cain sat off to the side in a chair, taking notes like some medieval scribe. The silence had already dragged out for several seconds.

Basil looked up when Sarein and McCammon entered. He wore a puzzled look, as if interrupted in the middle of a complex thought; then he remembered that she had been scheduled to attend. “Ah yes, thank you for coming, Sarein. I wanted you to hear my announcement.”

She felt a quick stab of alarm. “Announcement? I thought we were having a discussion.”

“The decision has already been made.”

Cain rose to his feet, discouraged but doggedly doing his job to bring her up to speed. “On his shakedown cruise of the Mage-Imperator’s flagship, Admiral Diente made a remarkable discovery. During the ancient wars, the Ildirans developed a translation device for direct communication with the Klikiss. It’s uncomplicated Ildiran technology, simple to operate.”

Now Basil sat up, engaged in the conversation. “This translation system gives us a remarkable and unexpected opportunity to approach a very destructive enemy. In recent months the Klikiss have retaken many of their old planets, which were part of our Colonization Initiative. We depended on their transportal network, and now that’s also been denied to us. But there’s no reason our two races should be enemies. We should be able to find common ground.”

He folded his hands. “We know too little about the Klikiss, and I want to nip this conflict in the bud. We must engage in diplomacy instead of immediate destruction. I’ve concluded that it is the swiftest, most efficient way to solve the crisis. So, we are sending an emissary to talk to them.”

McCammon spoke up. “We sent an emissary in a containment chamber to meet with the hydrogues, too. That didn’t turn out very well, if I remember correctly.”

“This is completely different,” Basil snapped, obviously wondering why the guard captain was still in the room. “The Klikiss were once a great civilization. They invented the transportals and the Klikiss Torch. They must be reasonable. I am sending Admiral Diente to Pym, where General Lanyan conveniently located a large subhive. He will negotiate a mutual nonaggression pact with the Klikiss. After that, we’ll have one less thing to worry about.” He paused for just a moment. “And we can concentrate on bringing down the Confederation.”

Diente seemed decidedly uncomfortable, as stiff-backed as a toy soldier placed as an ornament in the office. He still hadn’t spoken.

Sarein looked at him. “And what do you believe, Admiral Diente? Can you pull it off?”

“The Mage-Imperator assures me the translation system will work.” It wasn’t much of an answer.

“He has sufficient incentive,” Basil answered for him. “If he succeeds, I have promised to free his family from custody, with no encumbrances whatsoever.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Diente nodded brusquely. “Yes, Mr. Chairman. I am confident that I will succeed in this mission.”

48

Sirix

The satisfaction of eradicating both warring subhives at Relleker swiftly faded. Yes, Sirix had destroyed two major groups of Klikiss, but now his main concern was for the survival of his robots.

The Klikiss had annihilated the desirable facilities at Relleker and killed all of the technically proficient colonists. Sirix was no closer to being able to manufacture robots and replenish his armies, and he was growing quite impatient. He turned back to his two compies. “Find me another option.”

PD and QT delved once more into the Roamer and EDF records, studying asteroid outposts, lunar bases, drifting orbital complexes. Most clan facilities specialized along specific lines of endeavor. Constantine III produced only fibers and exotic polymers; the Hhrenni asteroids were primarily greenhouses; Eldora mainly produced lumber and forest products.

Lacking a better alternative, the stolen fleet flew to what had once been the capital of the Roamer clans.Rendezvous. Now only wreckage remained, rocks and metal debris in wildly disturbed orbits, since the Earth Defense Forces had destroyed it. At times Sirix thought that those chaotic, violent, and capricious people might well exterminate one another more efficiently than any of his grand schemes could.

Cruising in silent mode in case some Roamers had come back to their former home, Sirix’s ships drifted through the rubble searching for any still-functional complexes. They found none. Another wasted effort. Sirix and the two compies studied the records yet again.

Finally, QT spoke up. “PD and I would like to suggest an unorthodox candidate. We believe it has the sophisticated operations and technological facilities we require.”

PD agreed. “The place has demonstrated skill in manufacturing compies, and already possesses a working knowledge of Klikiss robots.”

Sirix’s optical sensors flashed as he realized what the two compies were suggesting. “You propose that we return to Earth, conquer the Terran Hanseatic League with our few remaining ships, and take over their factory complexes for ourselves? We could never succeed.”

“No, we suggest you negotiate an agreement directly with the Chairman.”

“Go to the Hansa and simply request the use of their facilities,” PD added. “QT and I can assist you as ambassadors.”

It was a naive and absurd suggestion. Completely impossible.