roughly into thirds, one third as eggs, one-third larvae and one-third adults.
…Suddenly, a cramp gripped her fatigued fourth birthing orifice. The fourth chamber was currently at the end of its cycle in producing a jugger. The fourth orifice cinched up tight, puckering at the worst possible moment during the cycle. The jugger egg was of course the biggest variety, requiring the greatest dilation of the birthing orifice in order to pass. Powerful muscles involuntarily contracted, bearing down on the rubbery egg and attempting to force it out. The results were inevitable, and exceedingly painful. A great wet ripping noise filled the birthing chambers. Her fourth chamber ruptured, releasing a gout of fluids. The Parent set up a tremendous fluting howl that turned the orbs of every hest and larvae in the nest. The hest came scrambling to her aid, while the larvae, fearing discipline, stampeded away toward the farthest reaches of the tunnel-complex.
When the Parent had regained some of her composure, she reprimanded herself sternly. She lacked experience and had made the classic error of a young Parent, thinking she could do the whole job herself. Enough was enough. She had to have help: she had to have daughters.
Leaning her vast bulk heavily on her left-side clump of tentacles, she raised her drooping orb-stalks to call for the eldest nife. It was time to meld.
To her vague surprise, she found he was already swaggering into the chamber. His manner was that of barely concealed triumph. His stalks stood excitedly at full extension, his orbs all but popping from their cusps. “I heard you cry out, and knew I should rush to your side. Are you damaged?”
“Yes,” she said weakly, past being offended by his obvious excitement. “You are chosen. We must meld immediately.”
The nife’s frontal tentacles slapped together in an exaggerated and enthusiastic affirmative. He swaggered forward and began climbing the birthing throne.
After discovering the culus, Mai Lee moved to her command bunker immediately, sealing it off except for the datastreams which came from every sector of Garm. Her ancestral computers were legendary in technical circles, and nowhere else on the planet did such a comprehensive and intelligent nerve center exist. Every city on the continent was wired in for sound, many of them providing full holo-plate feed. The computers served to perform the gargantuan job of assimilating this continuous mountain of data, finding interesting tidbits in the vast ocean of insignificant events.
She ordered the culus dissected by her medical team, a group of seven middle-aged Manchurian women. They wore white smocks and thin paper slippers. They worked at the task efficiently, only their dark eyes visible over their masks. Every step of the operation was carefully recorded. Small hands wielded flashing scalpels; the culus was quickly dismembered.
While she awaited their report, Mai Lee riffled through the incoming intelligence reports. She paused over a transcript from the spaceport.
Grunstein Colony Spaceport, aboard militia command lifter: Salient. Governor Hans Zimmerman has a private discussion with General Ari Steinbach.
Transmitting Agent: Major Drick Lee. Imperial grand nephew.
Agent Reliability Index: 84 %.
ZIMMERMAN: I see you have yet to rid us of this man. I fail to understand your hesitation in this matter. Note the full media team that has now arrived. KXUT will be broadcasting the whole thing live if you turn it into a bloodbath now.
STEINBACH: We lack the firepower, sir.
ZIMMERMAN: You have an army here!
STEINBACH: Since the renegade Colonel Dorman brought in a squadron of Stormbringers, deluded into thinking they support the legitimate Governor, they have held the decisive edge.
ZIMMERMAN: You should have moved immediately! If you had attacked when the tactical squad first arrived you could have wiped them out.
STEINBACH: Your point is well taken. Please excuse me now, sir, while I return to my duties.
ZIMMERMAN: Growing hostile. Not so fast you little weasel. This is my political life we are talking about, here. Who do you want running this colony, anyway? Are you some kind of Nexus-loyal plant? What do we pay you for, man?
STEINBACH: Governor, with all due respect I don’t really have the time.
ZIMMERMAN: You’ll make the time for me, General! I am a Zimmerman, if I must state the obvious.
STEINBACH: Give my regards to your family, sir.
A tense silence ensues.
ZIMMERMAN: Speaking in a low voice. You don’t know who your screwing with. I know you work for that witch, but she’s not the only one with assassins in this town. Now, I’m going to lay out what’s going to happen, and you’re going to follow orders like a good little soldier. First, I’m going to go in myself and try to talk to the bastard-
STEINBACH: You’re bravery surprises me.
ZIMMERMAN: I’m going in with plenty of cameras. He won’t do anything. How would it look if the new Governor shot the old one coming in to welcome him? What kind of a civil war could he put together after that was splashed all over the evening news? Who would rally to the call of an exposed murderer? Second, if I can get him to come out, we will have a much better chance at him later, at a phony inauguration ceremony, for example.
STEINBACH: Thoughtfully. Your plan has merit, but I can’t help but think that Droad would be too smart to fall for it.
ZIMMERMAN: And if you hadn’t jumped right in with an unplanned assassination attempt and warned him off, we could be on good ground right now. You and your Manchurian cronies panicked, that’s all there is to it.
STEINBACH: Shrugging. So, what if he doesn’t bite?
ZIMMERMAN: Then I call him a criminal and order you to retake the spaceport. Now I know you have instructions from ‘Her Excellency’, but don’t worry about her. Whatever she’s paying you we’ll cover it, and she won’t dare bitch about it because the whole Senate’s howling for her blood right now. The Zimmermans are taking their rightful place as the leaders of this colony, Steinbach. It’s time you put yourself on the winning side.
STEINBACH: Both men stand up. Your logic is unassailable, Governor.
ZIMMERMAN: I thought you might see it that way.
Lucas Droad was reviewing Manstein’s defense plans with Jarmo when Governor Zimmerman came calling. Tapping timidly on the front glass of the terminal building with a three-man media crew in tow, Zimmerman was allowed in by several astonished security people.
“He has more balls than I figured,” said Manstein, watching him as he was escorted across the terminal by two suspicious giants. “He’s been putting on a little weight since the last fixed election, too.”
“Indeed,” agreed Governor Droad.
Zimmerman was patted down along with the media crew, and then they were all led into the security center. He joked with the giants and with the media people, insisting on a publicity-shot of he and Jarmo standing close together to allow size-comparison. Jarmo refused to smile for the cameras, but rather maintained a stony, unpleasant expression throughout the affair.
Lucas met them in the conference room. “This visit is an unexpected pleasure, Governor.”
“Mr. Droad, I’m afraid things have gotten out of control, and I apologize,” said Zimmerman, shaking Lucas’ hand warmly. Lucas rubbed his hand on his pants afterward.
“I’m glad you came here in such a timely fashion. It’s critical that I am instated as the Nexus-appointed Colonial Governor of Garm immediately. I am here to replace the last Governor, whom I understand is now deceased.”
Zimmerman looked pained. He glanced sidelong at the humming holo-cameras, and then his eyes slid back to Lucas. “Now Droad, you must understand how things are here. I’m the rightful Governor of this Colony, by senatorial appointment. Your claim hasn’t been validated as yet, but let me assure you that if you are who you say you are, you will of course become the head of state here, after your official inauguration.”
“The protocol you suggest would be adequate under normal circumstances. However, your appointment is
