The Dark Between The Stars

SEVENTY-ONE
KING PETER

After the Sheol catastrophe, the Roamer industrialist Lee Iswander had dropped out of sight, shutting down his businesses, keeping a low profile. Therefore, King Peter was surprised when Iswander arrived at Theroc and cheerfully requested an audience with him.

As the King, Peter had known the influential businessman for years. In the early days of the Confederation, Peter encouraged cooperation among former Hansa planets, independent worlds, and Roamer clans. The new government was supposed to enable a cross-pollination of interests. Iswander exemplified that—a man who wrapped Roamer ingenuity in efficient Hansa business practices, the best of both worlds. Although the man seemed a little too focused on his bottom line, Peter was confident they could work together, especially when it appeared that Iswander might someday be elected clan Speaker.

The lava-processing tragedy had left more than fifteen hundred dead—an accident that could have been prevented if Iswander had heeded warnings and planned better for the unthinkable. Under other circumstances, victims might have unleashed an avalanche of lawsuits and recriminations, but Roamers had a way of drawing together after disasters. They lived in rugged environments on hostile planets, and when the clans built their facilities on the edge, sometimes they fell off. The universe was not invested in their safety.

Even so, the Roamers suspected Lee Iswander was to blame for at least the magnitude of the catastrophe. He had wisely gone into hiding for the last several months. Until now…

The Roamer industrialist arrived unannounced on Theroc, guiding a large ekti tanker that wore a fresh Iswander Industries logo like a badge of honor. Iswander transmitted an exuberant message, as if he expected fanfare for his visit. “I have excellent news, and I’d like to meet with King Peter and Queen Estarra, please. Iswander Industries is back online, and I have a new trade agreement to propose with the Confederation.”

Life seemed to be getting back to normal after an appropriate mourning period for Father Idriss, and Estarra sat at Peter’s side again. Celli and Solimar had gone back to Fireheart Station; Sarein, awkward and uncomfortable among people, had returned to her isolated existence in the Wild.

Now, receiving Iswander’s request, Peter looked at Estarra. “He’s a bold man, I’ll give him that.”

Estarra was less kind. “And full of himself.”

“We should meet with him, anyway,” Peter said. “He’s an important Roamer industrialist.”

“Was an important industrialist. I’m not surprised that he managed to get back on his feet—I just didn’t think he could do it so quickly.”

Peter agreed. “His reputation will take longer to recover.”

“If ever,” Estarra said.

Leaving the ekti tanker in orbit, Iswander piloted his own shuttle down to the main fungus-reef complex, where he greeted Confederation trade representatives, met men and women whom he called “old friends,” shaking hands and smiling, despite the occasional cool reaction he received. The industrialist entered the throne room wearing business attire instead of a traditional Roamer jumpsuit; he entered with the demeanor of a conquering hero, despite all those who had died on Sheol. Did he think everyone had forgotten?

Iswander made a perfunctory bow. “King Peter, Queen Estarra, whenever Roamers suffer a tragic setback, we pick up the pieces and make a new start. I’m here to celebrate the miracle of second chances.”

“We’ve all mourned those who died on Sheol,” Estarra said. “We only hope you can make reparations to the poor family members.”

Iswander didn’t look at all stung by her comment. “Indeed I intend to. I thought I was ruined after the accident, but I managed to pick up the pieces. My new business venture is doing extremely well.”

Estarra regarded him with plain skepticism. “What business venture?”

He gestured upward to some vague place far overhead. “Your Majesties, I brought you a gift—a tanker of a new and highly concentrated stardrive fuel that will change commerce and space travel as we know it. I call it ekti-X.”

“When did you get into the ekti-harvesting business?” Peter asked. “And who funded your skymine?”

“Cloud harvesting is an enormous and expensive operation that would require a large crew and years of full-scale production before turning a profit. Under my current circumstances, I couldn’t wait that long.” He smiled. “Instead, I’ve discovered an entirely different and more efficient method of ekti extraction.”

Peter and Estarra were both surprised. “Some new technique that wasn’t developed during the Elemental War?” After hydrogue attacks put an abrupt end to traditional ekti production on gas giants, the human race had scrounged for any means to produce vital stardrive fuel.

“My ekti operations are safer, cheaper, and far more productive than anything the Roamers have done before. My lava-processing operation wasn’t the only dangerous work Roamers have done. Think of all those who perished on skymines, generation after generation. I understand there’s been a terrible debacle on Golgen?”

Peter gave only a curt nod. “The Kellum skymine was destroyed, yes. The hydrogues surfaced again, although they don’t appear to be responsible for the disaster.”

The words seemed to skate across Iswander without leaving a mark. “Well, soon enough, Iswander Industries will supply so much ekti that other Roamer clans won’t need to take such unnecessary risks.”

Estarra said coldly, “Perhaps we should send inspection teams to make sure there are no lapses in safety—like on Sheol.”

“You’ll understand my reluctance to share proprietary operations.” His expression darkened; his voice became harder. “Since everyone turned their backs on me in my company’s time of greatest crisis, I need to protect my assets.” Then he seemed to remember where he was. His expression softened, and he smiled again. “As I said, my operations could benefit the entire human race. The ekti-X I brought is my token of thanks for all of your hard work in holding the Confederation together. I expect my business to expand greatly in the coming year.”

Peter thought that Iswander looked too smug, as if he had succeeded in washing all the blood from his hands. “You remind me of Chairman Basil Wenceslas, Mr. Iswander.”

The Roamer man nodded, accepting the assessment as a compliment, though Peter certainly had not intended it as such.