group saw him as an enemy. Suddenly, as the skids made contact with the heatfused soil, Ubatha felt lonely and a little bit scared. But the Chancellor kept such doubts well hidden as he shuffl?ed down a ramp onto the sun-parched ground.
Parth’s majordomo was waiting to greet Ubatha, and escort the high-ranking offi?cial to a broad ramp that slanted down into a series of beautifully appointed underground chambers. Though by no means poor, Ubatha and his mates had nothing like the wealth the Parth clan had accumulated over the last hundred years, and Ubatha was impressed by what he saw.
Ramanthian entry alcoves were generally a good indicator of what lay beyond, and this one was huge. And spotlessly clean. Like all members of his species, Ubatha was equipped with two antenna-shaped olfactory organs that protruded from his forehead. Thanks to the input they provided, he knew the air was heavy with expensive incense. From that point a path led under one of the many shafts, which brought sunlight down from the surface, past the obligatory rock garden, and down a long corridor. Earthen walls were covered with layerings of expensive fabrics and beautiful pieces of fractal art, all evenly spaced between carefully lit sculptures.
The corridor split three ways after that, and Ubatha followed the majordomo across a glistening water walk, and into the reception chamber beyond. Six males were waiting to greet the Chancellor—and Ubatha knew all of them. First there was Governor Parth, who immediately came forward to greet Ubatha, his eyes alight with avarice. The Chancellor remembered Parth as a serviceable administrator who, though primarily interested in establishing conditions favorable to his clan’s business interests, still found time to represent the rest of his constituents as well. Also in attendance at the oval-shaped table was Cam Taas, the onetime chief of the Department of Transportation, who was famously hidebound, and completely averse to anything new. That stance, given the Empire’s population explosion, was one of the reasons the Queen had been forced to let him go.
Su Ixba, the ex-head of the Department of Criminal Prosecution, and a skillful bureaucratic infi?ghter, was seated next to Taas. Though effective, he had been known for a willingness to use his considerable police powers on anyone who was opposed to his conservative politics. Tu Stik, Zo Nelo, and Ma Amm were military leaders, and if rumors were true, members of the fanatical Nira cult. The group that had been useful in some regards, but was potentially dangerous, since adherents saw themselves as accountable to a spiritual force more powerful than the Queen—a belief system that, while legal, was somewhat unsettling. All of those factors contributed to the steadily growing sense of apprehension Ubatha felt.
Once the traditional greetings were over, and a tray of light snacks had been passed around, Parth made what amounted to an opening statement. All of the other participants sought to look disinterested, but Ubatha could feel the tension in the room, and knew something important was in the offi?ng. “Again, welcome to our little gathering,” Parth said modestly. “We hoped you would join us both because we enjoy your company—and because you are still in government. Tell me, offi?cial pronouncements aside, how is our valiant Queen?”
The Chancellor thought there might be something slightly sarcastic about the emphasis Parth put on the word
“valiant,” but it was a seemingly innocent question, and one Ubatha would expect any host to ask given the present circumstances. Still, the royal’s health was a sensitive matter, so Ubatha chose his words with care. “I’m sorry to say that her majesty remains paralyzed. And, while our very best physicians continue to study the problem, there is no immediate relief in sight. The Queen remains alert, however, and has been able to carry out the vast majority of her duties, which is a great comfort to us all.”
“Yes, of course,” Ixba said politely. “But, with all due respect, we could learn that much from the evening newscasts. We are patriots, and as such, worried about the empire’s future well-being. We are at war, and as you probably know, there are some who fear the Queen’s paralysis could slow the governmental process. And do so at a time when quick decisions will be critical to victory.”
The comment wasn’t treasonous, but it came close, and Ubatha had no further doubts regarding the meeting’s true purpose. Having been displaced, and in their view slighted, Parth and his cronies hoped to use the Queen’s paralysis as a pretext for replacing her with a new monarch. A female of their choosing, who after taking the throne, would immediately restore them to positions of power. All of that would be a good deal easier to accomplish if the Chancellor was not only in on the plot but actively supporting it. Something Ubatha would never do.
Two courses of action were available. Ubatha could pretend to cooperate, then take the actions necessary to deal with the illicit plot, or he could declare his opposition to it. But would the group allow him to leave if he did so?
Suddenly Ubatha regretted the fact that rather than travel with bodyguards, as he was entitled to do, he had chosen to attend the meeting unaccompanied, as a sign of humility and goodwill. It would be very easy for the group to kill him and his pilots, stage a plane crash, and make their move. And, as he looked around the table, Ubatha could sense an increased level of tension. “I see your point,” Ubatha said carefully. “Speed is important. . . . What, if anything, would you suggest?”
Ixba signaled his approval with a single clack of his right pincer. “You’re a pragmatist, Ubatha! And that’s what we need. . . . A Chancellor capable of looking to the greater good. But, rather than answer your question myself, I would prefer to let someone else speak for our cause. An offi?cer who, having distinguished himself in a number of actions, has been selected to coordinate the military aspect of the transition.”
At that point Ubatha realized that the plot was so far advanced that the coconspirators had already chosen a warrior to either suborn the Queen’s guards or physically overcome them! This meant there wasn’t much time. . . . But, when he looked over at Stik, Nebo, and Amm, the retired offi?cers were silent. So when their heads swiveled toward the doorway, Ubatha turned to see what they were looking at. What the offi?cial saw there was so shocking, so terrible, that it felt as if his heart would stop beating. The offi?cer who had been chosen to lead the assault on the monarch’s bodyguards, and thereby betray everything that Chancellor believed in, was none other than the War Ubatha! One of his own mates who, judging from the presence of Stik, Nebo, and Amm, was not only a member of the Nira cult but an enthusiastic one as well! “Greetings,” the soldier said levelly, as his eyes made contact with Ubatha’s. “I’m glad it won’t be necessary to kill you.”
The so-called Summer Palace was located underground, the way any Ramanthian domicile should be, but adjacent to a deep twenty-mile-long river canyon. All of the most important rooms were open to the abyss— allowing whatever breezes there were to fl?ow through unimpeded. Because even though the Ramanthians preferred a warm environment, the equatorial region could be sweltering hot during the summer months, and the palace dated all the way back to preindustrial times. Of course, all of the monarch’s many residences had airconditioning, so her desire to stay at the Summer Palace had more to do with her affection for the place, than a need for cool breezes. But they were soothing, and as the Queen lay in her specially designed bed, she could see the fl?oor-length curtains sway, and feel the fl?ow of air around her antennae. And that was comforting. Up until the moment the human bullet hit her, the royal had never feared anything other than failure.
But now, in the wake of the latest visit from her doctors, she was terrifi?ed. Assuming they were correct, the prognosis wasn’t good. Surgery to repair the damage to her posterior nerve bundle might work, according to the so-called experts, but could result in death as well. That was why none of the cowards were willing to operate on her.
