Crash webbing exploded around her, pinning her to her seat while cushioning foam spurted against her body. She spluttered and cursed again as theCuriosity came to a grudging halt. The bottom hull was ripped, the engines wrecked. “Oh, dammit a hundred times over!”

Outside, thousands of Klikiss emerged from their tunnels and towers, scuttling toward her.

This wasn’t exactly how Rlinda had pictured the mission ending. She considered launching an emergency buoy into space with a brief last message for BeBob, but that would just be treacly sentiment, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

While peeling off the crash webbing and smearing away the soft, slimy foam that had saved her life, she heard scraping and scratching on the outside of the ship. Even though the lower hull was already compromised, she couldn’t bear to see the bugs rip open her beloved ship as if it were nothing more than a food package. That would just be too much.

Opening the hatch, she stared out upon a sea of polished chitin, segmented limbs, and faceted eyes. Offensive odors filled the air — like a mixture of ammonia, sulfur dust, rotting meat, and vomit. Then she saw an old woman standing among the creatures. A human woman. Leaving the insects behind, the stranger approached theCuriosity ’s hatch. “Captain Kett, I’m Margaret Colicos. I’ve been sent to meet you.”

Rlinda blinked in disbelief. It took her a long moment to form a response, and she couldn’t decide which part she found most astonishing. She had spent a lot of time in the ruins of Rheindic Co with Davlin, helping him search for any sign of the Colicos team. “I tried to find you years ago!” She glanced nervously at the insects. “I’m looking for Davlin Lotze now. I think he was abandoned here on Llaro. Any idea where he might be?”

Margaret hesitated, then said, “Davlin is here. but he’s not the Davlin you’re expecting.”

73

Chairman Basil Wenceslas

The looming black robot seemed to fill much of the Chairman’s office with his armored body. Captain McCammon and three heavily armed royal guards stood at the doorway, visibly concerned, their weapons drawn and ready to fire if the robot should make any threatening moves.

Basil leaned back in his chair, entirely unafraid. He had plenty of things to worry about, but Sirix wanted something from him, and the Chairman wanted something in return. “The EDF ships you returned all passed inspection, and General Lanyan has departed this morning on schedule.”

“Your human inspectors were very thorough. All systems will perform properly,” Sirix said in his buzzing voice. “Many of my black robots would like to have gone along on the mission, to assist in destroying the Pym subhive.”

“I understand, but the General was quite adamant.”

Basil wasn’t sure whether Lanyan had been more worried about the robots or the Klikiss themselves. He doubted Sirix would be so stupid as to betray them, since the Hansa manufacturing facilities had not yet delivered the replacement robots Sirix so desperately needed. Nevertheless, Basil had acceded to the General’s demand; only human soldiers accompanied the battle group off to Pym.

“Your robots’ work so far has been acceptable.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the deskscreen. “I see no reason why we cannot proceed with our arrangement, provided I receive daily updates on your progress on the ships.”

Sirix remained motionless. “We are on schedule. We will deliver five rebuilt EDF ships to you within seven days, in exchange for five hundred new comrades.”

“Our modified facilities are ready to begin the assembly process, but we will carefully control the release of all completed robots.”

Sirix backed away. “We recognize your need for caution and will abide by your rules, Chairman Wenceslas.”

Basil tapped his fingers on the polished desktop, remembering the public’s lukewarm response to his announced alliance with Sirix. That needed to change. “We should have an event to commemorate the release of the first black robots. Mr. Cain, see to it.”

His deputy remained seated in his usual chair off to the side. “An excellent suggestion. Perhaps you should give the speech personally? Your presence would make the people understand the real business reasons for this operation.”

He frowned at Cain, not sure why he seemed so interested. Basil didn’t often like to step into the spotlight, but maybe this wasn’t something he wanted to place on the shoulders of King Rory. “All right. Make sure there’s appropriate fanfare, positive media coverage — schedule it for a few days after the Archfather’s next rally.” (And what an interesting eventthat was going to be!) He maintained his calm expression. “We need the right sort of spin on this new relationship to overshadow the complaints of Freedom’s Sword.” He narrowed his eyes. “Any further progress on capturing their ringleaders, Mr. Cain?”

“None, sir. They are extremely clever.”

Colonel Andez appeared in the doorway of his office and gave a smart salute. When McCammon tried to block her entrance, she gave him an indignant glare. “I have important news for the Chairman.” Not surprisingly, McCammon did not like Andez or her cleanup crew, who had begun to usurp many long-standing duties of the royal guard. As Basil had given her more and more responsibility, Andez had definitely risen to the task.

Basil stood up. “Deputy Cain, Captain McCammon, please escort Sirix to the factory. In our new spirit of openness and cooperation, let him perform whatever inspections he desires.” He motioned for Andez to enter his office. “In the meantime, I need to speak with the colonel in private.”

When they were alone in the office, Basil drew out the silence. She did not blurt questions or show any sign of impatience; she simply waited, looking at the Chairman with her steely gaze. Finally, he allowed himself a smile. She had passed his little test. “Very well, Colonel,” he said. “What do you have to report?”

“It’s Former Chairman Maureen Fitzpatrick, sir. She plans to betray you to our enemies, perhaps even resume her old position.”

Basil hadn’t expected this at all, not even an inkling. “Explain.”

“When you first aired your suspicions of the former Chairman, we established covert surveillance on her mansion. You will be interested to know that she recently had a visitor: her grandson, Patrick Fitzpatrick.”

Now Basil was incensed. The young man was a deserter who had publicly denounced the Hansa and blamed the Roamer ekti embargo on EDF atrocities. Not only had King Peter used Fitzpatrick’s confession to spread sedition throughout the Hansa, Freedom’s Sword had used him as their poster child. “What was he doing here?”

“Recruiting her for the Confederation. The former Chairman intends to defect to Theroc and join King Peter.”

“Is everyone in the Spiral Arm hell-bent on stabbing me in the back?” Once retired, a Hansa Chairman was supposed to be respectful toward the person currently in charge, not meddle in politics or voice objections to the current government. His immediate predecessor, Ronald Palomar, had led the Hansa for seventeen lackluster years, and when Basil took over, Palomar quietly and gratefully disappeared from public view. In fact, Basil didn’t even know if the man was still alive. But Maureen Fitzpatrick had led the Hansa for only nine years before she chose to retire; she had been out of office for nearly a quarter of a century, and now she wanted to come back? The power-hungry bitch.