“Earth will ignore that, of course. Then we will contact them and explain that the government of Lincoln has asked for our protection against the unwanted attentions of United Earth, and we have agreed to give it to them.”
As far as I could see it came to the same thing. Oh, if there’d been such a thing as a galactic court or tribunal, he could have argued that the acting government had indeed asked for his help—but we were centuries, probably millennia from galactic governments and courts. In galactic terms, we’d barely taken two steps out into our front yard.
Two hours later Colonel Khuzwayo sent the message Tchaka wanted, and that evening we received another message from Earth, threatening to send a massive fleet should the situation remain unchanged.
Tchaka warned them not to carry through with their threat, that there would be serious consequences and he would not take responsibility for them.
And that’s the way it stood when a nondescript man named Dhanko Shange managed to get past Tchaka’s security and bury his knife in the monarch’s ribcage. It was Nandi who actually saved him, raking Shange’s face with claws I didn’t even know she possessed and emitting a piercing scream that brought help on the run.
They killed Shange on the spot and rushed Tchaka to the hospital, while he complained all the way, not of his pain, but rather that they hadn’t left Shange alive so he could be impaled and left on public display for his crime. There was no serious internal damage, and Tchaka was released two days later. His first official act was to name Nandi the Governor of Cetshwayo. Everyone thought it was crazy; no one dared say a word in protest.
Three days later we got word that a massive fleet had taken off from Earth and was headed in the direction of the Zulu Empire.
“They are fools,” said Tchaka. “They think I am bluffing. They will learn that I never bluff.”
Ten minutes later he ordered Colonel Khuzwayo to evacuate all military personnel from Lincoln. When Khuzwayo reported two hours later that it had been accomplished, he gave orders to destroy the planet.
“Do you mean to destroy all human life on it?” came the message from Khuzwayo.
“Blow it up,” answered Tchaka. “The bigger the explosion, the better.”
I could see the same thought reflected on every face in the room: Now he’s done it! Earth will have to avenge this. We are all walking dead men.
And finally a few of them, convinced that their doom was imminent, found their voices.
“They have to have seen that,” said one aide.
“I certainly hope so,” said Tchaka.
“Earth will kill us now.”
“Earth will leave us alone now,” said Tchaka easily.
“After what we did?” said another man incredulously.
“I have sent a private communication to the President of United Earth, with a copy to the commander of the approaching fleet.”
All eyes turned to him.
“The gist of it is that we have twenty-four more former colonies,” said Tchaka, “and I will destroy one for every light-year closer they approach. Lincoln was merely a demonstration.”
And even as the words left his mouth, we received a coded message that Earth had withdrawn its fleet.
17.
I had just finished shaving and was preparing to go to bed when there was a knock at my door. I knew it wasn’t Tchaka, for if he wanted to speak with me he would send an underling to bring me to him. I also knew it wasn’t a thief—they don’t announce their presence by knocking—but I couldn’t think of who would want to speak to me an hour after midnight.
“Come in,” I said.
The door opened, and Peter Zondo and three more of my half-siblings—a man and two women—entered my quarters.
“What can I do for you?” I asked.
Peter put his finger to his lips, waited for the door to close, then nodded to the two women—Sarah Khubeka and Bettina Cele—who produced small glowing instruments and began scanning for hidden holo cameras and listening devices, while the man, Joseph Thabethe, trained a laser pistol on the door. Finally they finished and nodded to him.
“It is safe,” said Sarah, though Joseph kept his weapon out.
I was pretty sure I knew what was coming next, but I waited for Peter to speak.
“We must stop him,” he said.
“How?” I asked. “Professional assassins have tried. They are all either dead and buried, or dying and on public display.”
“He is out of control,” persisted Peter. “He destroyed an entire planet—a planet filled with human beings.”
“And he’s killed enough others to populate a colony world,” added Bettina.
“He is not out of control,” I replied. “He is in complete, total control of his empire.”
“He is a monster!” said Bettina.
“I am not denying that,” I said. “If he wasn’t one to begin with, he has become one.”
“Well, then?” demanded Peter.
“Most of the people worship him,” I said. “But each day more and more of them hate and fear him.”
“You are making our point.”
I shook my head. “They also hate and fear those who serve him. They hate the military and the police—and most of all, they hate his brothers and sisters, who have been elevated to positions of authority.” I stared at the four of them. “He is all that is keeping us alive.”
“I am willing to trade my life for his,” said Sarah. “I loathe him! I never wanted to be brought here in the first place. I was literally kidnapped from my home in Durban in the middle of the night.”
“He knows you hate him,” Peter said to her. “He will never give you the opportunity to kill him.” There was a long, pregnant pause. “It must be you, John,” he continued, turning to me. “You have been with him the longest. He is often alone with you. You have his confidence.” Another pause. “You must be the one to do it.”
“No one and nothing has his confidence except Nandi,” I said. “He would know the moment I approached him. He knows my mind better than I do. I could not hide it from him.”
“Nonsense,” said Peter. “All it takes is self-control.”
“Even if I could get near him without his knowing what I had in mind, he is a force of Nature,” I said. “I cannot defeat him.”
“You mean you will not,” he said angrily.
I shook my head. “I mean I cannot.”
“Then I will,” said Sarah. She turned and stalked out of the room, followed by Joseph and Bettina.
“She will fail,” I said.
“Probably,” agreed Peter. “But at least she is not afraid to try.”
“She will be just as dead.”
“Is that all you have to say?” demanded Peter.
“What do you want me to say?” I replied.
“That it is time to be rid of him.”
“He is a monster,” I said. “I told you that. I disagree with his methods. You know that too.” I paused uncomfortably. “But we were nothing for half a millennium, and in a tiny handful of years he has given us an empire.”
“We do not need one,” said Peter firmly.
“You do not understand,” I said.
“Enlighten me.”
