has place in the sky to watch for Gladius. The rebels are less than a hundred leagues from where we now stand.”
She turned back to the crowd and sliced the air with her sizzling swords. The diners nearest her ducked as the deadly blades burnt the air over their heads. “Who else will march with us?” she demanded in a shout.
More men and women stood. There was no more drunken hooting or laughter now. This was serious. Each member of the Droad clan that pledged their blade understood they might not return from this campaign. But they stood nonetheless, until an impressive number had joined her.
Nina smiled, and finally sat down. After she had gotten what she wanted, she quietly presided over a long night of feasting, drinking and combative games.
She was proud to know her people had not let her down. They had not softened with the years. Despite recent wealth, they were still tough frontiersmen who knew a just cause when they saw one. In short, they were still Droads.
Nine
The sole Parent aboard Gladius was beside herself with frustration. When she’d first taken over the ship with its vast hold full of goods, some twenty-two percent of which were organic in nature, she’d felt she had more than enough foodstuffs to grow and maintain a sizeable nest. To her mind, the basis for this mathematical formula had not changed. The newly-birthed Empress, however, had other ideas. She was not satisfied with canned meats, fibrous tubers and the like. She wanted fresh food. Fresh meat — and she insisted the Parent provide her with a steady supply.
The Parent lamented her early choices in this matter on a daily basis. She’d started off with the best of intentions, of course. She’d planned to guide the Empress’ development, carefully conditioning her to the situation at hand. She’d always thought of her role in the early stages of the monarch’s development as that of a gentle, caring, maternal figure. Unfortunately, she’d found the Empress extremely demanding from the earliest hours of her independent existence. Worse, the Parent felt herself genetically compelled to comply with the little harpy’s wishes. She had therefore expended a great quantity of her fresh protoplasm supplies, provided mostly by dead crewmembers, to appease the monarch’s palate.
This had turned out to be a grave error. By giving her the best, she’d trained the Empress to expect such fine meats every day. The Empress had swollen to a gargantuan mass and now spat out perfectly good supplements to her diet such as the rehydrated stews the crew had largely subsisted upon. She’d become accustomed to the flavor of human meats and constantly demanded more be brought. The fact that there was very little fresh game to be found aboard Gladius did not impress her.
Currently, the Empress resembled a vast bladder of sprawling flesh, from which protruded a bouquet of tentacles and single, oversized food-tube. She squatted in a mass of her own expulsions, with which she’d formed a nest of putrescence that even the Parent found difficult to stomach.
The Parent had suggested the young monarch move to a resin throne, as befit her station, but the Empress would have none of it. She relished her nest of cracked femurs, bits of clothing and hair. Originally, she’d complained about the alien stink of it all, but now the nest felt like home to her. The Parent sadly marked this down as another of her mistakes. She now accepted the obvious reality that she’d had no inkling of what she was doing when she gave birth to this demanding creature, and that raising a monarch aboard an alien ship had been an insane idea in the first place. She could only lament that her youth and inexperience as a Parent had led her down this unpleasant path. She’d dreamt of glory, of giving new life to the ancient Imperium, but she’d attempted it much too soon. In the end, she’d been saddled with the worst offspring imaginable, one that was now clearly her mistress.
“You will stop sniveling, and provide for my comfort,” the Empress insisted. “I will tolerate no further excuses. Fresh game creatures must be found. I’m tired of week-old meats. I require pumping fluids and warm, wriggling meats. Do you not understand?”
“Yes, my dearest. I understand perfectly. But I’m unable to comply. The food-creatures aboard this ship have become increasingly scarce. We’ve thawed and emptied out the larder of frozen creatures we found hibernating. That was the single greatest supply.”
“But they do still exist?”
“Yes, a small number of them are huddled within a protected area of this vessel.”
“Break in then! I will consume them tonight!” Growing agitated with excitement, the Empress’ external lung- flaps fluttered and her tentacles set up a wet slapping chorus on the deck plates beyond her nest-which she was on the verge of out-growing.
The Parent almost replied meekly, promising to do her best, but then a cunning thought entered her mind. Perhaps she could use her mistress’ obsession with human meats to attain certain goals.
“There are only a few humans left alive in any case. I will do my best to procure them for you-but they will be the last.”
“The last?” the Empress hooted softly. “I don’t like the sound of that. You must get more.”
“There are no more sources of fresh game within the ship.”
“Then you must reach beyond the ship. Must I think of everything?”
“Well… There is a ship approaching us, but it will pass by soon.”
“What? Does it have more food-creatures aboard?”
“Almost certainly.”
“Then we must capture them!”
“This would be very difficult.”
The Empress slapped her tentacles in frustration. They were growing in girth on daily basis, and now made a surprising amount of noise. “Why have you not made plans to assault this ship? How can I be cursed with such an incompetent Parent?”
The Parent shuffled her own tentacles thoughtfully. “That might just be possible-but I would judge it unlikely.”
“Why?” wailed the Empress.
“Because they will be well-defended, and they are cruising by us at great speed. We’ve put all our effort into meeting your appetites-which is only as it should be, of course. But our military is not growing. We have no assets with which to reach out to passing vessels. We have not prepared boarding parties, nor invasion ships for our eventual arrival at Ignis Glace.”
“You will build a single assault ship. You will make the attempt. I insist upon it.”
“Your will is law,” the Parent said, feigning resignation.
“What else can be done in the meantime to satisfy my digesters?”
“Nothing, mistress. We must turn our servants away from hunting for fine foods. Instead, we must build up our military capabilities. This will result in a short term loss of incoming food supplies, but in the long term, it will result in an incalculably greater bounty.”
The Empress cursed her and bemoaned her fate for some time, but at last she agreed. The Parent dared to congratulate herself on having successfully manipulated the despot into supporting her point of view. Before she could do so much as puff up her sagging organs, however, the Empress made a further demand. “I will allow myself to suffer now, in the hopes of fruitful times later. I will sacrifice my pleasures to prevent disaster. But I must have the last humans aboard this vessel. By surviving so close by, these creatures have defied the will of the Imperium. They shall not be tolerated. They can be used as breeding stock, if nothing else. You will capture them and bring them to my presence. I must have a tasting!”
The Parent puffed her lungs sacs and released a blatting sound of defeat. Her mistress had spoken. Again, they would have to waste time and resources feeding her insatiable maw. At least, the Parent could dare hope the Empress would be forced into supporting her planned build-up of forces after this hunt-if only because there would be no humans left aboard to consume.
Garth’s eyes snapped open in a dark chamber. He was lying restfully, but he knew something was wrong.
