in order to play the part of figurehead with skill and grace. The draped cloister was a pretence, a way to have the royal-in-waiting present without having to defer to her.
Most of the council members were already present. That included Su Ixba, the onetime head of the Department of Criminal Prosecution. He was already hard at work vetting candidates for hundreds of important positions and identifying potential loyalists, who would soon find themselves living on remote nursery planets.
Ixba was seated next to Cam Taas, who had been in charge of the Department of Transportation until the Warrior Queen let him go. Though hidebound and averse to anything new, he was very dependable. And given the challenges before them, that was a valuable quality.
Also present were Admirals Tu Stik and Zo Nelo plus General Ma Amm. All were students of the third-century mystic warrior Haru Nira. There were greetings and formal bows all around. Then, as if determined to make an entrance, ex-Governor Oma Parth shuffled into the room. Though old enough to have age spots on his chitin, his movements were precise, and he exuded energy. Space black eyes darted from person to person. “You’re all here… Excellent. We’ll hear from Commander Ubatha first. His report will be followed by a strategic review. It’s important to make sure all of us understand the current situation.” Ubatha suspected the last was a reference to the queen- in-waiting.
“Please,” Parth continued. “Take your seats. Commander Ubatha?”
Ubatha chose to remain standing as the others sat on matching saddle chairs. There was a skylight overhead, and sunshine pooled on flagstones worn smooth by thousands of shuffling feet. In keeping with his reputation for unflinching directness, the War Ubatha made no attempt to soften his report. “I am sorry to report that my mission to the hive world Bounty was a failure. As you know, the Warrior Queen was, or is, extremely popular there. So there was a distinct possibility that, having learned of our plan, Chancellor Ubatha might have taken the Queen to the planet. But such is not the case. Thanks to Su Ixba’s intervention, members of the local police were very cooperative-and made use of their resources to scour the entire planet. A large cell of denialists was identified and dismantled. But there was no sign that they were hiding anyone.”
All of the council members were aware that there were thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of citizens so devoted to the Warrior Queen that they refused to believe that she was dead. Such individuals were generally referred to as denialists. Ixba clacked a pincer approvingly. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” Parth said, as he came to his feet. “I know I speak for the entire council when I say that Commander Ubatha’s mission shouldn’t be considered a complete failure. At least we know of one place where the Warrior Queen isn’t hiding. We will return to that very important subject later on. In the meantime, let’s review the strategic situation, which, in spite of numerous military victories, can only be described as poor.
“I suggest that we begin with a discussion of planet Earth. Truth be told, there were some things the Warrior Queen did right. One of them was to invade Earth’s solar system, destroy the fleet positioned to protect it, and attack the planet itself. But then, rather than glass the pus ball, she made the decision to occupy it. That was worse than wrong-it was stupid. And I can prove it.”
Those were strong words to direct against a monarch, even a failed one, and the War Ubatha wondered what the queen-to-be was thinking. But there was no way to know as Stik, Nello, and Amm all clacked their pincers in agreement.
“First,” Parth continued, “by occupying Earth, we are tying up twenty divisions desperately needed elsewhere. Because, while our troops chase resistance fighters around the surface of the planet, there’s evidence that the Confederacy is starting to target our nursery planets. Some of which are quite vulnerable. And that isn’t all. In addition to the soldiers killed in action on Earth, we’re losing personnel to some sort of disease. General Amm… What can you tell us about that?”
Insofar as Ubatha knew, Amm had never fired a shot in anger but had risen through the officer ranks by virtue of his administrative abilities and cold-blooded willingness to do whatever was necessary. A philosophy that was apparent in the way he answered the question. “We are investigating the nature of the problem, sir,” Amm replied. “In the meantime, rather than run the risk of infecting additional personnel, or allowing the pathogen to reach other Ramanthian planets, a quarantine is in place. No additional troops will be sent to Earth-and no troops will be allowed to depart until this matter has been resolved.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Parth said, “but it can’t be avoided. Please let me know the moment more information becomes available.”
Parth’s eyes swept the small audience. “I’m sorry to say the challenges we face don’t end there. All of you know that the Hudathans have surrendered their independence to the Confederacy in return for help in dealing with their increasingly uninhabitable home world. Meanwhile, thousands of so-called volunteers have been allowed to join the Legion. And they are very formidable warriors. So that has to be counted as a win for the Confederacy.”
Was the new Queen taking all of it in? The War Ubatha hoped so as Parth tackled the next subject. “But, fortunately for us, the Hudathans are relatively few in number. That isn’t true where the Clone Hegemony is concerned, however. Which is one of the reasons why the Warrior Queen chose to attack Gamma-014, where General Akoto’s forces were victorious.
“But while that campaign was taking place, the Clone Hegemony’s heretofore insular government was overthrown, and the rebels elected to join the Confederacy. That means we will be facing a unified command. One that is likely to make effective use of the clone military caste. So, as you can see, we face some formidable challenges. Did I leave anything out?”
“I think the Thrakies are worth a mention,” Ixba said. “There’s considerable evidence to suggest that they played a role in spiriting the Warrior Queen away. The question is whether the individuals who did so were acting on their own or with the knowledge and consent of their government. That would be very worrisome indeed. Because if they know the Warrior Queen is alive and where she is, the Thrakies could reveal that information and attempt to return her to the throne.”
Parth clacked his agreement. “I think it’s safe to assume that our furry friends are waiting to see what will happen, with plans to benefit either way.” He turned toward Ubatha. “We can’t allow the Thrakies to have that kind of power over us. Or to run the risk that the denialists will learn that the Queen is alive and coalesce around her. So, much as it pains me to do so, I’m afraid I must ask you to have a conversation with the Egg Ubatha. Believe me, I understand how painful such a situation is, but having failed to find the Warrior Queen any other way, we are left with no choice. If anyone knows where Chancellor Ubatha is, she does. And once you find your mate, the Queen will be nearby.”
The War Ubatha had seen it coming but felt a heavy weight settle into the pit of his stomach nevertheless. Because despite everything Nira had written regarding the need for complete detachment, he was still in love with the Egg Ubatha. It was a weakness. He knew that. And one he would have to confront in order to pursue the Hath or “true path,” a discipline so strict that devotees were expected to sever all ties with their mates. That had been relatively easy to do where Chancellor Ubatha was concerned, but this was different. He forced himself to reply. “I will speak with her.”
“When?”
For one brief moment, the War Ubatha hated Parth and all the rest of them. “Soon,” he clicked. “When the time is right.”
Parth looked as if he wanted to challenge the reply but apparently thought better of it and chose to let the matter drop. “Good. Let’s discuss the coronation.”
THE PLACE WHERE THE QUEEN DWELLS
During the three days since the Warrior Queen’s funeral, thousands of functionaries had worked day and night to prepare the underground city for the new Queen’s coronation. And now their efforts were about to pay off. Tradition called for the processional to start at the small cavern that was one of the earliest known nests on Hive and a potent symbol of the long climb up to an interstellar civilization. From the cave, the royal was required to demonstrate her humility by shuffling through more than three miles of twisting, turning streets while the commoners looked on. During the journey, which was said to represent the challenges that a ruler must face, she would be required to climb a steep ramp, navigate her way around a mythical monster, and pass through a narrow corridor lined with mirrors. All the while wearing royal regalia that weighed thirty pounds and being tracked by airborne cameras. Along the way, a cheering populace would pelt her with sath seeds in hopes of bringing about an
