The Android's Dream

Chapter 15

In one of those coincidences that would be ridiculous if they weren't entirely true, Creek and Robin's lifepod launched from the Neverland at almost precisely the moment the time limit for the auf-Getag clan to begin the coronation ceremony expired. What followed next was a power grab so quick, so balletic in its balance, grace, and speed that the Medicis, the Borgias, and all their equivalents across time and space, had they the knowledge, would have risen from their graves to provide its mastermind with a standing ovation.

At the time of the expiration plus some infinitesimal fraction of a second, the Nidu computer system deployed the instruction set enacted when no heir from the current clan on the throne ascends in time. The power of supreme access, previously locked in trust for the presumptive auf-Getag heir, was now dissolved and major functions of the Nidu political administrations apportioned to the ministers and generals who made up the highest level of the Nidu government. From this second until a challenger successfully assumed the throne, no single Nidu was in charge of the entire government.

At time plus two minutes (to use human time measurements), Ghad-auf-Getag, Supreme Commander of Nidu Military and uncle to the previously presumptive but now merely potential heir to the throne Hubu-auf-Getag, found his head being yanked backward to expose his throat. For the two minutes previous, Ghad-auf-Getag had sole administrative control of the Nidu military, without oversight from the Nidu Fehen—because there was none. Ghad-auf-Getag had not used those two minutes particularly well; for their entire span he been squatting above a Nidu toilet trough, expelling the remains of the previous day's lunch.

This left him particularly vulnerable to attack when his two bodyguards entered his lavatory and drew their knives—ceremonial knives Ghad-auf-Getag had presented both a year previously as a token often Nidu years (roughly fifteen Earth years) of loyal and devoted service. Both bodyguards had been promised colonial regional governorships by Narf-win-Getag; both had decided that Narf-win-Getag's offer beat a nice knife. One of those knives was stuck in Ghad-auf-Getag's throat; a few seconds later the second cut him from waist to mid-chest.

Ghad-auf-Getag's bodyguards were brutally efficient in dispatching their master; by t-plus three minutes and thirty seconds all of Ghad-auf-Getag's brain activity had ceased, triggering the implant he like all high-level government officials carried in his body to transmit the fact of his death to the Nidu computer network.

With the death of Ghad-auf-Getag, the administrative powers he controlled were instantaneously and automatically portioned off to his immediate subordinates, the chiefs of staff of the respective arms of the Nidu military—except for the control of Nidu's Glar-classs destroyers, which Ghad-auf-Getag and the previous Fehen Wej-auf-Getag believed was too important to be left to a mere chief of staff. Ghad-auf-Getag kept control of the Glar destroyers himself and cut them out of the chain of command. And so, when he collapsed to the tiles of his lavatory, bled out, control of the Glar destroyers devolved directly to their individual commanders.

Six of whom Narf-win-Getag had been able to buy.

At t-plus five minutes—and in a truly remarkable bit of synchronization—both the the Lud-Cho-Getag and the Jubb-Gah-Getag, the two Glar destroyers UNE Defense had been tracking from the start, emerged in Earth space in an unauthorized and unscheduled appearance and immediately warmed up their weapons. UNE Defense commanders had been briefed on the possibility of the appearance of the two cruisers and the further possibility—probability—that they would not be stopping by for a friendly spot of tea. What they were not told to expect was that the two ships would appear in Earth space within thirty seconds of each other, a bit of coordination that was an unheard-of feat of planning and power distribution to n-space engines, considering that the ships had come from entirely different limbs of known space, and were known to have entered n-space at nearly exactly the same time. The appearance of both simultaneously gave Earth defense planners no time to counter.

Bob Pope was awakened from a dead sleep by his new temporary assistant Thomas Gervis; he in turn woke up President Webster. Webster held off attacking the destroyers, partly to keep from losing UNE Defense ships unnecessarily but also because until he heard otherwise Nidu was still an ally. The unbidden and unscheduled arrival of the destroyers was not enough to breach treaties. If the UNE moved to attack it would be the aggressor and the breaker of treaties. There was nothing to do but wait.

The commanders of the Lud and the Jubb were both bought off years before with their choice of planetary colony governorships. The captain of the Lud picked Hynn, one of the newer colonies, rich in natural resources and anecdotally believed to be the home of some of the most attractive Nidu females in the entire nation; a perennially popular Nidu folk tune that expressed a belief to that effect had a close cousin in Earth's equally perennially popular folk tune "California Girls." The captain of the Jubb had lost two dearly beloved siblings in the uprisings on Chagfun; he chose that colony to rule and was already constructing intricate revenge fantasies against its entire population.

Narf-win-Getag had had no problem convincing Ghad-auf-Getag and Hubu-auf-Getag to dispatch the Lud and the Jubb to Earth space; the two had already been convinced by the apparent assassination of Lars-win-Getag that the Earth government was acting against their (and therefore Nidu's) best interests and the further unfolding of events suggested it would have to be dealt with as soon as possible after the coronation ceremony. What had been far more difficult had been to convince the two to do what was coming up next.

At t-plus 12 minutes four Glar destroyers (with two future colonial governors, one future Supreme Commander of Nidu Military, and one future very, very rich retired captain among them) popped into existence over Nidu itself, joining the two Glar destroyers already on station in Nidu orbit. All four arrived within 20 seconds of each other—a feat one order of magnitude more impressive than the synchronized arrival at Earth—two each in positions flanking the two Glar cruisers already in orbit.

This had been Narf-win-Getag's improvisational masterstroke, and like many masterful improvisations, it was based on years of backstory. Narf-win-Getag knew that two of the Glar captains could not be purchased—they were nephews of Ghad-auf-Getag and cousins of Hubu-auf-Getag. Rather than buy them, he bought those around them, not to assassinate the cousins but to implicate them in a deep and subtle conspiracy against Hubu-auf-Getag that would come to light at a time of Narf-win-Getag's choosing.

At the appropriate moment (which eventually turned out to be just after the UNE began the search that would turn up Robin Baker) a trusted and apparently unimpeachable third party—who, in a refreshing change of pace for Narf-win-Getag was not bought but blackmailed—would come forward and present evidence that the cousins meant to prevent the coronation and use their destroyers to force a coup. This third party would then suggest recalling the four remaining Glar cruisers as a preventative measure.

The third party: Chaa-auf-Getag, brother of Ghad-auf-Getag, uncle to Hubu-auf-Getag, and father to the Glar destroyer captains in question. Who really ought to have known that a fetish for xenosexuality—the desire to have sex with sentient races not your own—would one day catch up with him in a culture as caste-ridden and implicitly racist and xenophobic as the Nidu.

No matter how shamed Chaa-auf-Getag would be if his alien-fucking ways were discovered, there would be no way he'd countenance the actual murder of his own children. Which is why Narf-win-Getag never bothered to explain to him what would happen at t-plus 15 minutes, when the four destroyers opened fire on the destroyers captained by his sons.

The two destroyers were of course entirely unprepared for the attack—and yet survived the first barrage, heavily damaged but largely intact, a testament to their Hamgp makers' superior shipbuilding skills. But even advanced Hamgp craftsmanship couldn't survive the impact of a Nidu planet cracker bomb, one of which hit each of the stricken destroyers as the sole weapons in a second wave of attack. The destroyers each disintegrated in the wake of a shaped blast designed to rip into the skin of a living world, leaving nothing but metallic vapor and a pair of explosive jets expanding conically away from the planet of Nidu.

It would have killed Chaa-auf-Getag to know he had been used to condemn his sons to death. So it was just as well that at t-plus six minutes, Chaa-auf-Getag's trusted personal servant of nearly two decades stuck a large-gauge shotgun into Chaa-auf-Getag's exceptionally surprised face and calmly pulled the trigger. This was another instance where Narf-win-Getag didn't have to make a payout or promise; the personal servant, a Nidu of extreme conservative personal inclinations, saw it as an opportunity to express his opinion about Chaa-auf-Getag's need to stick his penile array into places, people, and species it ought not have been. Having expressed the opinion, the personal servant then turned the shotgun on himself; his personal inclinations being conservative as they were, it was the only option that would suffice for a disloyal servant.

At t-plus 20 minutes Hubu-auf-Getag received a recorded message from Narf-win-Getag, briefly outlining the events of the last several minutes and informing the former future leader of the Nidu that he already had Robin Baker, or would have soon, and when he arrived at Nidu with her in two days time, it would be Narf-win-Getag, not Hubu-auf-Getag, who would use her to ascend the throne of Nidu. And if Hubu-auf-Getag didn't like it, he was free to eat a planet cracker bomb from one of the four Glar cruisers that floated above Nidu, all of which—as well as the two orbiting Earth—were under Narf-win-Getag's control.

In another one of those coincidences, at the very moment Narf-win-Getag's message to Hubu-auf-Getag stopped playing, leaving Hubu-auf-Getag to fathom how this all could have happened, the lifepod carrying Creek and Robin Baker scraped across the surface of Chagfun, grinding to a stop less than a kilometer from the communication outpost on the Pajmhi plain.

And so it was that in 20 minutes, Narf-win-Getag found himself in effective control of two entire planets. It was almost certainly the fastest double coup in the history of the Common Confederation—which, even in an obscure historical category such as "double coup," was an impressive feat. All that was left now was to make it official. All that was left was to get Robin Baker and take her to Nidu.

Robin Baker looked at around at the hard, black, rocky expanse she and Creek stood on. "So this is where you fought," she said.

"This is it," Creek said. He winced as he pulled another small fragment of his communicator from his leg, then swabbed the wound with the disinfectant from the pod's first aid kit, which had been placed along with a small store of water and emergency rations in a small sealed compartment under the pod floor.

"It didn't look like this, though," Robin said.

Creek looked around. "No," he said. "It used to be a lot nicer. Well, as much as any battleground can be 'nice.' When I was here I wasn't getting a lot of time to sightsee."

"I guess not," Robin said.

"I'll tell you, though," Creek said, as he wrapped gauze around his leg. "One time in the two days I was here everything just stopped—rifles stopped firing, people stopped moving, and everything just became quiet, and it was like everyone had just stopped to take a breath or something. And for that moment, you could look around and see what a beautiful place the plain was, when it wasn't filled with people killing and dying. And I wished I had been able to see the place when it was at peace."

"It's at peace now," Robin said.

"If you want to call being buried under a lava flow at peace," Creek said. He stood up and walked on his leg.

"How does that feel?" Robin asked,

"Like there are a couple of pieces still in there," Creek said.

"Ouch," Robin said.

"Better plastic fragments in my leg than a bullet," Creek said. "They'll eventually work themselves out. Anyway, now that my communicator is shot—literally—we're going to have to make the hike to that communications center Leff was talking about."

Robin pointed to a tall communications array roughly a kilometer away. "I'm guessing that would be it," she said.

"I'm guessing you'd be right," Creek said. "Ready for a walk?"

"I like how you ask me these things as if you're giving me the option," Robin said. "You've been doing this all the time since we've met. I just want you to know that it doesn't really make me feel like I have a choice in the matter."

Creek smiled. "I don't want to come across as pushy," he said.

"It's a little late for that," Robin said. "Come on. I'm sure this place used to be a very nice place to visit, but right now all I want to do is get off this rock and on that nice big Navy boat up there." She set off in the direction of the communications array. Creek collected up the Nidu rifle, placed the finger in his pocket, grabbed a water canister, and followed after Robin.

The communications array terminated in a small control room located in a natural if irregular amphitheater created by the lava flow. This was where the memorial ceremony was scheduled to take place. Like every portion of the former plain, the amphitheater was bleak, black rock with no sign of animal life or vegetation. It was as if life, insulted by the planet cracker and resulting lava flow, had rejected the plain of Pajmhi from that point forward. Creek didn't blame it for the decision.

"Harry," Robin said, and pointed to something on the side of the control room. Creek looked at what seemed like a heap of trash for a minute until it resolved itself into a dead Nidu; probably the communications engineer, who had come to the site to prepare for the Neverland passenger arrival.

Creek turned back to Robin. "Head back to the pod," he said. "Wait there until I come to get you."

"Harry—" Robin said, looking past his shoulder. Creek swung around and saw something the size of a grizzly stalking toward him. It had come through the door of the communication center. Creek raised up his Nidu rifle, sighted in, and fired at the thing.

And forgot the Nidu finger was still in his pants pocket.

"Oh, shit," Creek said, and wheeled backward. The creature grabbed him, cocked back its massive arm, and slugged him dead in the temple. Creek could hear Robin scream for the briefest fraction of a second before the lights went out completely.

Creek felt water splashing on his face and into his nostrils. He coughed himself back into consciousness and propped himself up from the floor he was lying upon.

"Hello, Creek," a man's voice said to him. "Nice nap?"

Creek looked up and saw Rod Acuna over him, leaning against the counter of the broadcast terminal inside the communications control center. Acuna held a gun casually but firmly in his hand; it was pointed at Creek. Behind and to the side of Acuna, Creek saw Robin, securely held by what Creek now recognized as a Nagch.

"Hello, Acuna," Creek said. "Of all the people I was expecting to see, you were not one of them."

"You know who I am," Acuna said. "Well, isn't that cozy. I'm glad I could surprise you. Surprises are fun. And you know, I think you should take my presence here as a compliment."

"Really," Creek said. "How so?"

"It shows my faith in you, Creek," Acuna said. "After I got that picture of you in my regimental newsletter and passed it along, everyone else was so sure that they would just pluck you and Little Bo Peep here off that cruise liner. But I knew better. I knew you'd get away from them. And you know why, don't you?"

"Because I got away from you," Creek said.

"Check out the brain on you," Acuna said. "Exactly right. You got away from me. So I asked myself, if I were Harry Creek and I was going to keep from getting captured on a cruise liner in space, where would I go? And here we are. I had to just about shoot someone to make them give me a ride down here, but now I think they'll be glad I made the effort."

"You came with the Nidu," Creek said.

"I did," Acuna said. "And I'm going to leave with them. And so is Takk here"—he gestured with his non-gun-holding hand to the Nagch—"and so is your girlfriend. You, on the other hand, will be staying."

"No room on the shuttle for me?" Creek said.

"There's room," Acuna said. "You're not going to go because you and I are going to settle up now. You broke my arm and my nose in our last encounter, if you'll recall. It cost someone a lot of money for my QuickHeal session."

"Sorry about that," Creek said.

"Think nothing of it," Acuna said, and shot Creek in the left arm midway between the wrist and elbow, shattering his radius and ulna. Creek collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain, smearing blood on the concrete floor. Robin screamed again and started begging for someone to help them.

Acuna watched Creek twist for a while and then got up from the counter and walked over to him. "That takes care of the arm," Acuna said, and kicked Creek square in the face, causing a burst of blood to fountain out his nose. "And that should square us for the broken nose." He stepped away and raised his gun. "And this is the interest on both. Goodbye, Creek."

Takk was only mildly interested in the interaction between Acuna and Creek. What he was more interested in—indeed, what he was almost entirely consumed with—was Robin.

Acuna had retrieved Robin while Takk had carried Creek into the comm center; once inside, however, they swapped. "Try not to lose her," Acuna had said, shoving the girl at Takk, who looked up at him with terrified eyes.

Takk gently put his huge paw on her shoulder. "Don't worry," Takk said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You just clubbed my friend into a coma," Robin said. "Pardon me if I don't relax."

There it was. Just like it was prophesied by Dwellin:

The Lamb will come to the house of strangers

With a journey of many miles behind it;

It will be made welcome by those who dwell within

But will be yet full of fears.

Takk had been reading the prophecies pretty much nonstop since Archie McClellan had handed them over prior to ingestion; if d be fair to say that he'd memorized most of them at this point (Nagch had excellent memories for the written word). They had fascinated Takk. He was not by inclination one easily swayed by mysticism, preferring instead the sense of order and comforting ritual religion could provide (after reading the preface to the prophecies, he would have considered himself more of an Ironist than an Empathist, if he were a member of the Church). Yet there was something compelling about the idea that these prophecies not only might come true, but were thought to come true through the conscious decision of the Church members to make them so. It was an interesting juxtaposition between fate and free will that allowed for both to exist—nay, required them to go hand-in-hand, skipping merrily through the field.

Takk recognized of course that the prophecy he was thinking of was not an exact fit. The communications hut could be considered a "house" only in the broadest and most liberal .sense of the term, the one that granted that any structure could theoretically be a home to someone. And yet other elements fit very well. Had not the Lamb traveled many miles? Indeed—light-years, in fact, a distance that made mockery of the term "mile." Did Takk not just tell her not to worry (and did so unprompted by prophecy—he only consciously thought of the prophecy afterward)? And was she not, and reasonably so, Takk thought, full of fears?

Takk racked his brain for other prophecies that matched the situation, but came up empty. There was nothing in the prophecies that said anything about someone like Acuna antagonizing someone like this Creek fellow. This didn't entirely surprise Takk, either. There's not a prophecy for everything in the universe, even if one is willing to deconstruct the writing down to its most general and symbolic level. Dwellin was understandably focused on the issues surrounding the Evolved Lamb and its trials; he'd naturally skip parts here and there. From what Takk understood of the background of the prophecies and Dwellin, by the end he was well-nigh incoherent off of alcohol and cheap over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. It would have been difficult for him to develop and sustain more than one prophetic narrative.

Acuna shot Creek in the arm; Creek, who been propping himself up with the arm, fell back to the floor, bleeding and moaning. Robin screamed.

"Oh, God, oh God," she said. "Oh God, Harry. Help us, Please help us." She started repeating the sentence, with variations, for the next several seconds.

And it was here that Takk recognized a situation similar to another prophecy—or if not an exact situation, at least a situation where one of Dwelliris exhortation stanzas could certainly apply:

Lo! The Lamb stands not alone but with those

Who see themselves within it.

He who helps the Lamb helps himself.

He who serves the Lamb saves himself.

Dwellin wrote this particular stanza at a time when Andrea Hayter-Ross experimented with holding back the pitiful allowance she provided him, just to see what he would do. Dwellin wrote this stanza, among others vaguely hinting that it was good to serve the Lamb (at the last minute prior to sending them to Hayter-Ross, he excised one of the more desperate ones in which he flat-out asked for cash), and was also shortly thereafter arrested at a Vons supermarket for stealing a Clark Bar. Hayter-Ross paid his bail, and in one of the rare moments where she felt bad about making Dwellin jump through silly hoops, gave him a bonus on his cash installment and took him out to dinner at a smorgasbord.

Takk knew nothing of this backstory, nor would it have mattered to him if he had. What mattered to him was the Lamb was asking for help—and that by asking for it, had invited Takk to help himself as well.

Truth to be told, Takk was getting tired of the Ftruu. It was overwhelming and exciting and even a little gratifying at first—a nice adventure and an interesting way to see the universe. But over the last few months and especially the last few days, what Takk mostly felt was tired. Tired of living with the criminal element, which was not an especially invigorating element in any meaningful sense, tired of feeling the obligation of trying forbidden things, tired of meeting new people only in circumstances where he beat them or ate them.

In other words, Takk was primed for a religious epiphany, and as he watched Acuna jam his boot into Creek's face, one hammered into him with lightning-hot intensity. His time of Ftruu was over, suddenly and irrevocably, and thank God for that. It was time for him to make the choice to return to the ranks of the moral, and to those engaged in the process of bettering the universe, not destroying it as a way to get they wanted; people like the Nidu ambassador or the human Jean Schroeder or even Rod Acuna, who didn't actually want much of anything other than to be angry and get paid for it

Acuna lifted his gun again to aim at Creek's head; Robin turned into Takk's chest to avoid the scene, still whispering for help. With one enormous paw, Takk swiftly but gently moved Robin aside, stepped forward, opened his insides, and sent his intestinal tendrils whipping toward Acuna. One hooked Acuna's arm just as he fired his gun, twisting the barrel to the right and ricocheting the bullet off the concrete floor into the wall. The gun flew from the surprised Acuna's hand. Other tendrils hooked and wrapped around Acuna's legs, waist and neck. In less than a second Acuna was secured in Takk's constrictive grip.

Acuna nevertheless managed to crane his neck, Takk's tendril hooks tearing his flesh as he did so, to get a glimpse of the Nagch.

"What the fuck axe you doing?" Acuna managed to croak out.

"I'm serving the Lamb," Takk replied, and with a mighty jerk swallowed Acuna whole.

"Holy Christ," Brian said to Creek, who was sitting at the comm center's terminal. "What the hell happened to you? You look worse than usual."

"Let's skip the pleasantries," Creek said. "Just tell me what"s going on."

Brian did, catching up Creek with tales of lawsuits, usurpations, church schemes, and intelligent computers waging the Barde of Pajmhi over and over and over and over. And then he told Creek what he learned from Andrea Hayter-Ross. Creek sighed and put his head into his (right) hand.

"You look tired," Brian said.

"I look like I've been shot in the arm and kicked in the face," Creek said.

"That too," Brian said. "But I meant besides mat."

"I am tired," Creek said. "I want this whole thing to go away."

"It's not going to go away," Brian said, as gently as he could. "You know that."

"I know," Creek said. "But I'm telling you what, Brian, the next time your brother comes to me asking me to run a computer search for him, I'm going to punch his goddamn lights out. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's on the way to Nidu with the secretary of state for the coronation, for whomever it will be for, whenever it may happen. Where's Robin?"

"She's outside, talking to a new friend of hers," Creek said. "Or should I say, a new follower?" Creek outlined the events of the last several minutes.

"Never a dull moment with you around," Brian said.

"Despite my preference to the contrary," Creek said.

"Are you sure she's safe with that thing?" Brian said.

"He could have let Acuna kill me and take her," Creek said. "If he wanted to do anything bad to her, that would have been the time. I also gave her Acuna's gun. How is the Neverland?"

"She's safe," Brian said. "Safe as can be expected, anyway. The British Columbia is keeping the Nidu off of her. And the Nidu are keeping the British Columbia from sending a shuttle to pick you up. Everyone up there has taken the safety off the trigger but they're keeping their iron in the holster. I think they're waiting to hear about you and Robin."

Creek sighed. "Yeah," he said. "I'm going out to talk to her now. She's going to like all of this even less than I do."

"It's the only thing that will work," Brian said. "And it will work. We'll make it work."

Creek smiled. "We better," he said. "Don't go anywhere, Brian. I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," Brian said.

Creek got up gingerly so as not to bump his injured arm, which was now in a sling; at Robin's request Takk had gone to the pod and retrieved the first aid kit. Creek went outside to see Robin and Takk standing and talking; seeing him approach, Robin turned to Creek and smiled.

"Tell me you got everything to work," she said.

"Everything works," Creek said, and turned to Takk. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Takk? I need to talk Robin for a minute."

Takk reached over and touched Robin on the arm. "We'll talk about this some more later," he said.

Robin squeezed his paw. "I'd really like that," she said. Takk departed.

"Nice to have a fan club," Creek said.

"No kidding," Robin said. "Although all this stuff about the 'Evolved Lamb' makes me nervous. Takk seems really nice—as nice as you can be and eat people, I mean—but I hope he's not going to be too upset when he eventually figures out I'm not some sort of mystical creature."

"Hold that thought," Creek said. "Because there have been some interesting developments."

"Yeah?" Robin said. "They can't be any stranger than hearing that you're supposed to be the divine object of worship."

"Robin," Creek said. "Do you trust me? I mean, do you really trust me. Trust me as in if I tell you something you'd be willing to do it, even if it seems irredeemably insane."

Robin stared at Creek for a minute, then started laughing. "Oh, God, Harry," she said, finally. "Since I've met you what have we done that's not been insane? Do you even realize how ridiculous your question is at this point?"

"So that's a 'yes,'" Creek said.

"It's a 'yes," Robin said. "I trust you with my life, Harry. It's worked for me so far. So hit me with what you've got."

"Well, let's start with the big one," Creek said. "You're your own nation."

Robin considered that for a moment. "For your sake, that had better not be a comment about the size of my ass," she said.

The shuttle landed inside the natural amphitheater and deposited Narf-win-Getag and Jean Schroeder, whose relationship to the Nidu Robin and Creek had learned from Takk. The two approached Creek and Robin when Takk stepped forward. "That's far enough," Takk said.

"Back off," Schroeder said. "Remember that you're working for me."

Takk leaned into Schroeder. "I don't work for you any more, little man," he said.

"Takk," Robin said. Takk eased back from Schroeder. "Thank you, Takk," she said.

"Are we going to play intimidation games all day," Narf-win-Getag said. "Or are we going to get to our negotiations? There is very little time, and I am quite busy."

"Yes, we're well aware of how busy you've been," Creek said. "Seeing that we spent some time earlier in the day avoiding some of your business."

"And well done, I must say," Narf-win-Getag said, to Creek. "You live up to your billing, Mr. Creek."

"That's Prime Minister Creek to you, Ambassador," Creek said.

"Is it now?" Narf-win-Getag said, bemused. "Well, isn't this interesting. An entire nation right here in front me. All two of you."

"Three," Takk said.

"But of course," Narf-win-Getag said. "Three it is. And I suppose you're the minister of defense."

"It's funny that you mock us," Robin said. "Considering that from what I hear, you were the reason this little nation exists."

"You are quite right, Miss Baker," Narf-win-Getag said. "Or is it Queen Robin? By all means, I don't wish to violate protocol by addressing you incorrectly."

"Miss Baker is fine," Robin said.

"Well then, Miss Baker, if you know that you are your own nation, then you may also know that my nation is at war with yours," Narf-win-Getag said. "Considering we outnumber your nation by about three billion to one, that's not good news for you."

"I thought we weren't going to play intimidation games, Ambassador," Creek said.

"My apologies," Narf-win-Getag said. "By all means, let's get to it."

"I'm going to make this simple," Creek said. "You want to take the crown of Nidu. Your flunky here"—Creek motioned to Jean Schroeder—"wants the Earth. You need Robin to make it happen."

"That's not quite true," Narf-win-Getag said. "I can make it happen without her help. It will just be… messier."

"And not guaranteed," Creek said. "Whereas with her, your ascension is uncontested and incontestable."

"Yes," Narf-win-Getag said.

"You realize now there's no way you can take her by force," Creek said.

"I would prefer to say that at this point it is impractical to do so," Narf-win-Getag said.

"However you want to say it, these are the facts before us," Creek said. "So let's make a deal. We—all three of us—are willing to accompany you to Nidu, in your ship. When we arrive at Nidu, Robin will take part in the ceremony to crown a new Fehen. But there are four conditions."

"Name them," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Condition one," Creek said. "Call off the war on Robin."

"I'm not Fehen yet," said Narf-win-Getag.

"But you control the Glar destroyers," Creek said. "Which means you control the Nidu military. You have it within your power to call off the dogs."

"So I do. You've done your homework, Minister Creek," Narf-win-Getag said.

"I am a diplomat by profession, Ambassador," Creek said. "I know how to do my job. Do you agree to the first condition?"

"I do," Narf-win-Getag. "I will have it formalized when I become Fehen."

"Condition two," Creek said. "Your gunship up there stands down and the Neverland is allowed to leave Chagfun intact."

"Not before you two are on my ship, and we've jumped into n-space," Narf-win-Getag said. "I don't want to risk the two of you—three of you, excuse me," Narf-win-Getag corrected himself, "nobly sacrificing yourself for the UNE."

"We'll arrange to have your ship and the Neverland make the jump into n-space simultaneously," Creek said. "Will you accept that?"

"Yes," Narf-win-Getag said. "Your third condition, Minister Creek."

"That Robin survives the coronation ceremony," Creek said. "The sheep used in the ceremony have always been slaughtered. Not this time."

"My understanding of the ceremony is that it requires the blood of the sheep and it requires a brain scan," Nerf-win-Getag. "Both can be done without killing Miss Baker. Agreed."

"Thank you," Creek said. Robin relaxed visibly.

"You said you had four conditions," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Condition four," Creek said, and pointed again to Jean Schroeder. "That man does not get the Earth."

"What?" Jean Schroeder said.

"He's a traitor to his own nation," Creek said. "He also conspired to assassinate the head of a nation whose sovereignty is recognized by the Common Confederation. He also tried to kill me. So, it's a personal thing. He goes or we go. It's nonnegotiable."

Jean Schroeder laughed. "Go to hell, Creek," he said.

"Agreed," Narf-win-Getag said.

"What? What?" Jean Schroeder said, and turned to Narf-win-Getag. "No, no, no. You can't cut me out of this, Narf. I made this happen for you. My father made this happen for you. You and your whole goddamned clan couldn't have done this without us. Now don't you dare think you can just put me to the side. You get Nidu. I get the Earth. That's always been the agreement. That is nonnegotiable. You don't need them to get the throne. But you need me."

"I needed you," Narf-win-Getag said, to Schroeder. "The tense is, I'm afraid, of critical importance here, Jean."

"Narf," Jean Schroeder said, and then whatever was coming next was lost as Narf-win-Getag backhanded Schroeder viciously across the jaw. Schroeder staggered backward, stunned; Narf-win-Getag struck him again and sent him sprawling onto the black rock of the amphitheater. Schroeder scrambled to get on his feet, but the larger, more muscular Nidu was on him, driving him back to ground and wrapping his hands around Schroeder's neck. Schroeder choked and gurgled and wheezed and died.

Narf-win-Getag stood, brushed himself off, and straightened his clothes. "I trust that will be sufficient assurance," he said to Creek.

"It was a little more than I was expecting," Creek said.

"Was it?" Narf-win-Getag said, and then it was his turn to laugh, in the Nidu way. "Really, now, Minister Creek. After all that happened—after all that's happened to you—did you really expect anything less from me?"