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Meanwhile, in a waiting room normally reserved for those of lesser rank, Ubatha shuffl?ed back and forth across the chamber while deep in thought. Because while any royal audience was stressful, he knew this one would be even more so, due to the fact that the chosen would be present. There was no way to know which of the seven eligible females had been selected, but the Chancellor hoped that the Queen had chosen well. Not only for his wellbeing but that of the Ramanthian people as well. Because even though the war was going well, it would take a strong pincer to guide the empire through the next few years. The Ramanthian’s contemplations were interrupted as a midlevel functionary entered the room. “Chancellor Ubatha? The Queen will receive you now.”

The offi?cial clacked his right pincer by way of an acknowledgment, checked to ensure that both his antenna and wings were positioned just so, and left the waiting area for the ramp that led up to the royal platform. All manner of courtiers, offi?cials, and military offi?cers had emerged from their various lairs to take up positions on the platforms adjacent to the walkway. Ubatha exchanged greetings with the more-senior members of the royal entourage as the rich amalgamation of odors associated with the Queen and the egg-laying process came into contact with his olfactory antennae and triggered the usual chemical changes.

Having gained the top level, Ubatha saw the brandnew enclosure off to his right, and decided to risk the Queen’s displeasure by nodding in that direction. A gesture intended to convey acceptance and respect. Then, having turned toward the monarch, he bent a knee. “I’m not dead yet,” the Queen said tartly.

“Nor will you ever be,” Ubatha replied smoothly. “Since you live within our hearts.”

That elicited the Ramanthian equivalent of laughter, since the royal didn’t believe a word of it, but admired the way it had been done. “You are absolutely shameless,” the Queen observed indulgently. “But useful nevertheless.”

Ubatha bowed. “Majesty.”

“So,” the monarch said, “it seems that congratulations are in order. . . . I understand you located ex-ambassador Orno and put him to death.”

“Thank you, Majesty,” Ubatha replied humbly. “But the credit for the execution belongs to your chief of intelligence rather than myself.”

Meanwhile, still hidden within her fabric-draped enclosure, the chosen took note. Another one of the things that made Ubatha different from so many of the empire’s offi?cials was his willingness to form alliances and then honor them. It was a strategy cunningly devised to make him more effective and reduce the amount of blame that would otherwise come his way when an initiative went awry. All of which would be taken into consideration when the Chancellor went to work for her.

“Yes,” the Queen replied. “My intelligence service deserves both credit for terminating the ambassador—and some of the blame for allowing the Egg Orno to live. The agent responsible for that failure has been assigned to a research station on an ice planet.”

“As he should be,” Ubatha replied sanctimoniously. What was the chosen thinking, he wondered? And would she be as challenging to deal with as her predecessor? Yes, he decided. The royal clan breeds true.

“But that’s a minor detail,” the monarch continued dismissively. “My intelligence chief offered to take care of the oversight personally, but I told him no. Having lost both mates and narrowly escaped death herself, the Egg Orno has suffered enough.”

“You are known for your mercifulness,” Ubatha intoned, and momentarily wondered if he had pushed it too far. But because the Queen truly believed she was merciful, the fl?attery slid past her if not the chosen one.

“But you didn’t come here to discuss the Ornos,” the monarch said, as she gave birth to another fi?fty citizens.

“No, Highness. I didn’t,” Ubatha agreed. The Confederacy put out an announcement, a rather interesting announcement, that was relayed to me by the Thraki ambassador.”

“An ugly breed,” the Queen observed distastefully.

“But I digress. What is that pack of degenerates up to now?” Both the monarch and the chosen listened intently as Ubatha relayed the news regarding Nankool’s disappearance and Jakov’s elevation to the presidency.

“What do we know about this Jakov person?” the Queen wanted to know, as the narrative came to a close.

“We know he’s ruthless,” Ubatha observed. “Since he made the announcement in spite of the possibility that Nankool is alive. Details regarding Jakov’s background will be included in your mid-morning intelligence briefi?ng.”

“Good,” the monarch replied. “Perhaps this human will prove to be more reasonable than his predecessor was.”

That was a given insofar as the chosen was concerned. Because she had been careful to memorize all the information available regarding Nankool’s staff—and was pretty sure that Jakov would make signifi?cant concessions for a peace that left him in charge of the Confederacy. A promising development indeed.

“And Nankool?” the Queen inquired. “Is he among the prisoners?”

“I don’t know yet, Majesty,” Ubatha replied honestly.

“But I will certainly fi?nd out.”

PLANET JERICHO, THE RAMANTHIAN EMPIRE

Thanks to the repellers that kept it aloft, the Ramanthian scout car could travel more slowly than a conventional aircraft could, giving the insectoid troopers plenty of time in which to inspect the verdant jungle below. And that was what they were doing as the air car drifted over the treetops.

Thanks to advance notice from both Batkin and the T-2s, Team Zebra had been given plenty of warning before the scout car arrived. Enough to hide themselves under a thick layer of foliage, activate all of their countermeasures, and suspend use of their radios. That strategy had proven effective three times over the last few days. As the insistent thrumming noise generated by the scout car increased, and the downdraft from the Ramanthian repellers caused the treetops to thrash about, Santana and the rest of the legionnaires peered upwards. They hoped to escape notice one more time but feared they wouldn’t. And for good reason since it was clear from Batkin’s electronic intercepts that the bugs knew some sort of incursion had taken place.

How didn’t really matter, although there was the distinct possibility that the battle with the nymphs had been visible from space or that one of their patrols had stumbled across the body-strewn clearing. And, had the Ramanthian military presence on Jericho been larger, it was almost certain the team would have been interdicted by that time. But since there weren’t all that many soldiers on the ground, and those present had their pincers full guarding both civilian and military POWs, the aliens had been unable to bring a suffi?cient amount of bug-power to bear on the problem. Up until that point anyway. As if working in concert with Santana’s thoughts, the scout car paused almost directly above the hidden legionnaires and hovered, as if the Ramanthian troopers had seen something suspicious. If they had, and tried to report it, Batkin would “hear” and order the T-2s to fi?re. The scout car and its occupants would almost certainly be destroyed. But, rather than improve, conditions would almost certainly become worse. Because when the scout car failed to return, even more units would be sent to the area, and the team would soon be located. So everything was at stake as the enemy vehicle hung like a sword over the legionnaires’ heads.

But just when Santana feared that discovery was imminent, the engine noise increased, and the vehicle slid toward the north. No one moved. . . . And it was a good thing, too. Because the Ramanthians returned four minutes later. The scout car thrummed softly as it passed over them a hundred feet higher than before. They’re looking to see if anyone or anything went into motion after they left, Santana thought to himself. The bastards.

The team was forced to remain where it was for another hour before DeCosta felt it was safe to proceed. Precious time was lost, but the team had gone undetected. Fortunately, the rest of the afternoon was relatively uneventful. The company was able to make fairly good time since they had Batkin to scout the area ahead and guide them around obstacles.