Destroyer of Worlds Read Online Free PDF

position. Her massive progeny ring glittered with four small rubies and a dozen emeralds: tokens of children and grandchildren. This was a farm world, all but unpopulated. Small families were a rarity here. That, too, was different from Earth—but a welcome change.
    She gestured at a built-in synthesizer. “Help yourself.”
    â€œBlack coffee,” he told the synthesizer before beginning a slow circuit of her office, scanner in hand, checking for bugs. “We’re clear, Sabrina.”
    They both knew he lied.
    High on the wall behind Sigmund the grille of the air duct had a panoramic view of Sabrina’s office. The screws that fastened the grille did double duty as stereoscopic optical and audio sensors. The bugs Sigmund pretended never to have found were far beyond New Terran technology—but not that of the Puppeteers.
    With such an excellent source of information, Puppeteer agents might look elsewhere with less diligence. Such was Sigmund’s hope.
    Not that he placed much stock in hope.
    They took their seats, Sabrina behind her desk, the better to squarely face the hidden cameras. She said, “So, Sigmund. What’s scary today?”
    What wasn’t? But they rarely discussed the truly scary stuff within range of the bugs. “
Don Quixote
is overdue checking in, though not yet alarminglylate. A training accident at the Army academy. Defect rates remain too high at Munitions Plant Three.”
    â€œAn accident? Not serious, I hope.”
    Sigmund kept his voice level. “We lost a young man.” The cadet would arrive, soon enough, someplace the Puppeteers and their sympathizers might not suspect existed: the New Terran intelligence academy. Spy school.
    â€œRemind me. Where did
Don Quixote
go this trip?”
    â€œRoutine mission, scouting ahead of New Terra,” which world, in turn, flew ahead of the Fleet of Worlds. Sigmund suspected this world’s erstwhile masters didn’t entirely mind New Terra making its own way. By rushing ahead as fast as its planetary drive would take it, New Terra served as a lightning rod. Any hostile aliens that human scouts encountered in their path would more likely strike the world in the vanguard than those that lagged behind. “Sabrina, the delayed report may not mean anything.” It wasn’t even delayed. Not everything the scout ships did was intended for Puppeteer consumption, even though the Puppeteers paid well for scouting reports, and in the only currency that truly mattered: ships.
    Which served only to replace—slowly—the ships destroyed in Hearth’s nearly successful attempt to reclaim its errant farm world. Sigmund kept his expression stoic, not letting his resentment show. It wasn’t as though Sabrina didn’t share the anger.
    Item by item, Sigmund updated Sabrina on New Terra’s fledgling military and defense industry. Only someone born off-world could hope to grasp the concepts, let alone manage the undertaking. He was a talent pool of one.
    (Who but the off-world paranoid even saw the need for a military? The only planets nearby were the Fleet of Worlds, whose inhabitants outnumbered the New Terrans almost a million to one. This world remained free at the whim of the Puppeteers. And among those Puppeteers, Nessus, at the least, expected Sigmund—somehow—to protect New Terran interests. That was why Nessus had brought Sigmund here. A very complex individual, Nessus.)
    Sabrina asked for background on a long list of topics. He grumbled about a few. And finally the session was done.
    Sigmund stood to leave. “Getting you those answers will take a while,” he warned.
    That, as they both knew, was another lie. It would serve to explain his absence for a few days—while he did his real job.
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    THE SQUAT AND RAMBLING STRUCTURE that was headquarters to the defense ministry existed in a state of perpetual flux. The disorder