Kevin Anderson - The Ashes of Worlds

The sermon was, naturally, being transmitted across Earth. Cargo ships and fast traders would deliver recordings of the Archfather’s message to the handful of colonies and industrial worlds that still paid lip service to the Hansa.

In his seat, Deputy Cain looked decidedly uncomfortable, and Basil could tell he wanted to say something. He sighed, waiting. “What is it, Mr. Cain?”

The deputy answered promptly. “Complaints have been forwarded to me by several law-enforcement stations, sir. The police don’t know what to do about them.”

Basil’s eyebrows drew together. “Complaints? There are always complaints.”

“These seem to have some merit. It appears that a well-organized vigilante group has taken it upon itself to quell certain public discussions.” Cain pulled out a report. “For example, here are two incidents in which the group smashed businesses and roughed people up. They target anyone who speaks out against the Hansa. They don’t even try to hide themselves.” He presented surveillance images and pointed to a young woman wearing a dark uniform. “This costume appears to be based on early EDF uniform designs. I have identified one of the ringleaders responsible for these strong-arm tactics, a woman named Shelia Andez, an EDF officer.”

“Yes, I know. I reassigned her myself,” Basil said. “She spearheads an elite force to help maintain order and loyalty on Earth. I call these soldiers my cleanup crew, though I suppose they deserve a more formal name.”

“You’re actually aware of this? Their activities go against any number of laws.”

“Andez is doing the work I’ve assigned her. What you call strong-arm tactics, I view as a last-ditch effort to maintain much-needed order. The Hansa is in an extremely fragile state right now.”

The people in the square below suddenly cheered, and the Chairman turned to watch, brushing aside Cain’s concerns. The Archfather bowed. Basil tried to recall what particular line might have evoked such a reaction; he decided to review the tapes later. That way he could also critique the man’s performance.

The Archfather lowered his voice as if he were telling a secret to billions of listeners, delivering the preposterous suggestion with complete gravity — the very part of the speech to which the man had objected so strenuously before Basil had vetoed his concerns. “King Peter and his fellow traitors in the Confederation may actively be playing into the plans of the Klikiss. Roamer clans may be assisting the demon creatures in their conquests. In an insidious plot to destroy our beloved Hansa, the Confederation rebels and the Klikiss have agreed to split what’s left of the Spiral Arm between themselves.”

The audience gasped, predictably and on cue.

“That’s ridiculous, Basil,” Sarein muttered. “Please be cautious. When accusations get so extreme, you can’t really expect people to believe them.”

Basil gave her a hard sidelong look. “I disagree. It is a perfectly reasonable conclusion, considering what else the people have been told. We can’t afford to lose popular support right now. Our attempted pogrom at Rhejak was a complete mess.” He felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment. “Admiral Willis deserted us, taking a Juggernaut and ten Mantas. General Lanyan returned home like a whipped dog, in total disgrace.”

“You’ve kept his ignominious defeat very quiet.” Cain looked up at him. “Where is the General now?”

“I’ve had to remove him from public view until he can fix the problem that he caused.”

“How is he going to accomplish that?” Sarein did not seem to look forward to the answer. “I thought you would consult with us — ”

“It was straightforward enough. I gave him the opportunity to achieve a clear victory.” Basil laced his fingers behind his head, careful not to mess his steel-gray hair. “King Peter’s outlaw Confederation is our enemy, and we must treat them as such. They have resources that we require, primarily ekti. Therefore, we’ll raid Roamer facilities and take what we need. After all, we’re at war.” His lips quirked in a smile, willfully ignoring the horrified expressions on his companions’ faces. “General Lanyan’s battle group is on its way to a known Roamer skymining center. Our intelligence suggests they have no viable defenses. It is my fervent hope that the General can finally redeem himself.”

4

General Kurt Lanyan

The JuggernautGoliath, five Manta cruisers, a Thunderhead weapons platform, more than two thousand Remoras fully loaded with jazers and explosive projectiles — yes, that would keep even the most unruly clans in line. General Lanyan was quite certain of an EDF victory at Golgen.

He was glad to be at the helm of his Juggernaut again. TheGoliath had been heavily damaged in the fighting at the end of the hydrogue war, but the giant vessel had finally been repaired and placed back into service. One small step toward having a fully capable EDF again.

Acquiring plenty of stardrive fuel. that was the next step.

When the gas giant came into view, Lanyan transmitted to the lead Manta in the attack group. “Admiral Brindle, verify that all personnel are at their stations, all Remora pilots ready to launch, and all weapons ready to fire. I don’t intend to leave anything to chance here.”

The older, dark-skinned commander acknowledged. Recently promoted to fill one of the officer slots vacated by the decimation of the Earth Defense Forces, Conrad Brindle left no doubts about his competence or dedication. When the rest of the Rhejak battle group had mutinied, Brindle had been one of the few who remained loyal to the EDF. The promotion and this new assignment were his reward.

Lanyan straightened in his command chair, loudly cleared his throat, and addressed his subcommanders. “According to our fast recon and recent intel, Golgen has more than a dozen skymines, but they’re industrial facilities, not military bases. Once we’ve knocked down any resistance, our objective is to seize their stores of stardrive fuel.” Now his voice held a cautionary tone. “But cause as little damage as possible. We want these facilities to remain functional. The Chairman wants to return and administer the facilities under Hansa auspices. For now, the EDF just needs the ekti.”

Sounding battle stations, the warships raced toward a buttery-yellow globe laced with white cloud bands. Long-distance sensors spotted towering cities that rode the cloud tops converting atmospheric hydrogen into ekti.

As the main attack group fanned out, the Mantas each approached a different Roamer skymine, while the Thunderhead remained in a stationary position, a citadel on higher ground. “Remember, Roamers are cowards at heart,” Lanyan continued. “They like to run and hide. They sneak around in unmarked ships, keeping their locations secret. It’s not in their nature to fight.” TheGoliath headed toward the largest skymine, a complex of many floating platforms abuzz with space traffic and support vehicles.

He shook his head in disgust. “Just look at them all!”

Once, as a boy, he had turned over a rotten log to find it squirming with tiny black beetles. Suddenly exposed to the light, the insects had scattered, seeking dark corners and holes in which to hide. He had taken a stick and spent more than an hour hunting down and crushing the small bugs.

These Roamer ships reacted as the beetles had. Instead of mounting an orderly defense, the mismatched clan ships flew in all directions, every man for himself. The General found it pathetic. He gave his anxious weapons officers permission to take as many potshots as they liked.

On the crowded screen, he identified the spidery cargo escorts holding canisters of ekti. He pointed his index finger, raising his voice. “There! Those are the ships I was telling you about. Remember my orders.”