to divert. They said a diplomat was in trouble. I should have known.”
Vanderveen’s eyes were full of emotion. “Yes,” she replied joyfully. “You should have known.”
PLANET ALGERON, THE CONFEDERACY OF SENTIENT BEINGS
Days were short, so timing was critical; as the sun rose in the east, the shuttle temporarily designated as RAM 1 settled onto the VIP pad at Fort Camerone, and a contingent of Naa blew the spiral-shaped horns that had traditionally been used to announce the arrival of an important chief. A large group of dignitaries, including President Nankool, Secretary of State Yatsu, and Military Chief of Staff Bill Booly, were on hand to greet those aboard the incoming ship.
Intersol vid anchor Danny Occuro was stationed on the ramparts above the landing pad. One of the news network’s flying cameras was focused on him. The rest were providing the director with shots of the scene below. Occuro felt nervous and for good reason. He had been chosen over many others to provide pooled coverage of the most important news story since the destruction of the Friendship and the beginning of the war with the Ramanthians. It was a weighty responsibility and one that would put his name in the history books. Because, assuming that what he’d been told was true, the Warrior Queen had survived her injuries by becoming a cyborg. And pictures of her new body were about to be sent throughout the Confederacy for the first time.
As the shuttle’s skids made contact with the repeller-scorched tarmac and the engines spooled down, it was time to begin his narration. “This is Danny Occuro, reporting live from the planet Algeron, with breaking news. I am referring to the arrival of the Ramanthian monarch, often referred to as the Warrior Queen, who, having been injured on Earth, had reportedly died of her wounds. In fact, it was only a little more than a month ago that the Ramanthians held a state funeral for her and chose a new Queen to replace her.
“But according to highly placed government sources, the Warrior Queen was actually on the run, hiding from a team of Ramanthian assassins. That suggests that the present Queen is little more than a pretender, a tool placed on the throne by a cabal of senior officials, all of whom want to run the government themselves. I’ll have more on that as additional information becomes available.”
The picture dissolved to a shot of the landing pad. “The hatch is opening now, and President Nankool is going out to meet the monarch, even as a formal twenty-one-gun salute can be heard in the background. That’s an honor reserved for the president and visiting heads of state. A sure sign that the Confederacy plans to recognize the Warrior Queen as the legitimate leader of the Ramanthian people. Doing so would open up the possibility of a truce although there aren’t any assurances that the present Queen would agree to step down.”
As the director took a wide shot and the camera zoomed in, Occuro described what he saw. “This is it, gentle beings… Our first look at the Queen’s new human-designed body. It’s our understanding that this is one of three vehicles the monarch can wear, each of which offers certain advantages.”
At that point, a split-screen comparison appeared showing file footage of the Queen right next to the live feed. What the audience saw was a richly dressed Ramanthian who had already exchanged formal bows with the president and was making her way along the reception line. A small coterie of staff members followed behind. Two were human although Occuro had no idea who they were. “However,” he said, as the split screen disappeared, “even though the Queen’s body looks normal, I have it on good authority that the design incorporates bullet- resistant materials as well as communications gear that is consistent with both Confederacy and Ramanthian protocols. That, too, seems to suggest some sort of diplomatic accommodation is in the works or has already been agreed to.
“I suggest that you remember this moment. There are all sorts of uncertainties, not the least of which is how the Ramanthian people will respond to the sudden resurrection of their once-popular leader. But it’s possible that we are witnessing a pivotal moment in history.”
Never, in all of her twenty-seven years, had the Warrior Queen been in the presence of so many animals. Their ugly faces surrounded her. Harsh voices assailed her ears. And the putrid stench of their filthy flesh made her want to vomit. Except that she couldn’t vomit. Not anymore. Because her electromechanical body had no need to consume food or get rid of it.
It was an amazing vehicle, with which she had developed an almost immediate love-hate relationship. Love because of the way in which it had freed her from the metal rack, and hate because she was an incomprehensible monster now. All of which was made more painful by the knowledge that without the aid of the disgusting creatures around her, she would already be dead. Murdered by members of her own race. That fact and more swirled through her mind as the last introduction was completed, and President Nankool escorted her into the fort.
Airborne cameras were everywhere. They zipped, darted, and even rolled along the floor as the animals sought to capture every moment of her shame. But the publicity was necessary. The Warrior Queen knew that. Parth and his cabal would try to block the incoming broadcasts. But the soon-to-be-reinvigorated denialists would find a way to make the truth known. Bootleg copies of the broadcast would be made and secretly distributed to all of the empire’s planets.
Parth and his cronies would declare them to be propaganda and insist that the creature seen meeting with the animals was a robot rather than a cyborg. And what else could the traitors say? Since they had declared her dead?
So, in the end, it would come down to what she said, how she said it, and testimonials from the expat experts that Chancellor Ubatha was going to bring in. In the meantime, the royal would do what she had been taught to do since birth. And that was to play her part to perfection.
Vanderveen and Santana had been relegated to the very end of the processional, and the diplomat was happy to be there. Having successfully defended the monarch from assassins and negotiated an interim agreement with the royal, it was a relief to hand her charge off to more-senior officials. That plus the fact that Santana was walking along next to her combined to put Vanderveen in a very good mood. So when the president, the Queen, and the rest of the party entered a conference room and left her outside, she was thrilled. “We’re going to have dinner with my father,” Vanderveen said, as she turned to Santana. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
“I would love to have dinner with your father,” Santana said. “I haven’t seen him since the day I left Algeron for Jericho. He came out to see me off. He was very worried about you.”
“He’s still struggling with my mother’s death,” Vanderveen replied. “Let’s see if we can cheer him up.”
Santana nodded. “And then?”
Vanderveen put her hands in his. “Then we’ll have some time to ourselves.”
Santana smiled. “ That sounds good. Very, very good.”
For the first time in many months, President Marcott Nankool had reason to hope. His decision to back the Warrior Queen rather than accept Parth’s offer looked as if it might pay off. Assuming that he and his staff could convince the frequently cantankerous monarch to do all the right things. And that would be no small feat because, in spite of the words that came out of her beak, it didn’t take an empath to detect the underlying contempt she felt for all humans, including him.
They were seated around a circular table. It was the same one that had been used during the meeting with Parth. Even Christine Vanderveen’s detractors had to agree that the high-level verbal agreements she had negotiated with the Ramanthian royal were quite solid. The most important of them was that the Confederacy would help restore the Warrior Queen to her throne in return for “a reset to prewar conditions.”
If implemented, the agreement would force the bugs to surrender all the worlds they had captured, with the possible exception of certain nursery planets. And the Confederacy would do likewise. The exact wording of the agreement would have to be hammered out. But there wasn’t much doubt as to the outcome since the Confederacy was in the driver’s seat.
No, the problem was a difference of opinion regarding how to begin the upcoming PR offensive and where to do so. This was why Chien-Chu was making the Confederacy’s case for the second time. “With all due respect, Your Highness,” he said patiently, “Earth is the perfect place to launch your campaign because it’s the human home world. And in order to succeed, we need buy-in from our citizens. That will require some effort since nearly all of them blame you for starting the war.
“Yes,” Chien-Chu said, as Chancellor Ubatha opened his beak to speak, “I know… The previous Queen,
