A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [134]
During their mealtimes together en route, Sarein proudly offered Earth foods—chicken, fish, beef, meats strangely different from the insect products she was accustomed to eating on Theroc. Her older sister sat across from her with bright eyes and a sincere-looking smile. “You’ve never imagined anything like the WhisperPalace, Estarra. You’ll see the golden cupolas in the sunlight. Eternal flames burn from the towers and bridge posts, each torch signifying a particular Hansa colony. With King Peter, you’ll be invited to spectacular processions and parades.” Sarein’s face lit up. “Ah, it’s everything that Theroc isn’t.”
Sarein’s enthusiasm for Earth notwithstanding, Estarra noted that her sister had gathered a cargo of Theron items she couldn’t get in the WhisperPalace: culinary delicacies, cocoon-fiber fabrics, intense dyes made from forest flowers.
Estarra listened politely, eating her meal. “Some of it does…sound interesting. But I’m not going as a sightseer or a visitor, Sarein.”
No, she would be married to a young man she had never met, faced with political and social responsibilities she had never conceived of. Both Beneto and Rossia had advised her to keep an open mind, to look forward to new possibilities—and above all, to be strong. Estarra could certainly do that.
The nineteen volunteer green priests stayed together on the crew decks, and Estarra went to see Rossia during the journey. But as the Manta entered the Earth’s system, a large passenger transport left the main ship and delivered the priests to the EDF base on Mars.
“Will there be crowds?” Estarra asked as the cruiser came in to land on the outskirts of the Palace District. “Will I have to see the people right away—and what about King Peter? Will he come to greet me?”
Sarein patted her on the arm. “Don’t worry, little sister. With Basil in control, nothing happens unless it’s carefully planned, considered, and rehearsed. Officially, no one even knows you’re aboard this ship. When you are formally introduced to the public, everything will be managed to the finest detail and with the greatest precision. You won’t have a thing to be nervous about. For now, you’re just an anonymous passenger. It’ll help you settle in and get adjusted more easily.”
While EDF soldiers disembarked from the cruiser, uniformed workers drove loading machinery aboard to remove the cargo. Technicians hurried to refit the chambers and cabins, adding provisions, water, and air for a quick turnaround and redeployment into space.
Estarra felt out of place in the vortex of all those people. She had never seen so many buildings in her life. Skyscrapers and towers, warehouses and spaceport observation turrets, stood like an artificial forest of metal, stone, and transparent plates. The skies were a bright blue. She felt a tingle of amazement as she looked around.
“Here comes Basil.” Sarein waved at a military transport humming across the field, while whispering out of the corner of her mouth, “Remember what I told you to say.”
“I thought this was an informal arrival?” Estarra cocked an eyebrow. “If nobody’s watching, and nothing counts, then why is it so important that I deliver my words correctly?”
“Consider it practice, Estarra. You can’t have too much of that.”
When Chairman Wenceslas met them at the Manta’s open VIP egress hatch, his face showed experience and wisdom without the weathered lines of overt age. Estarra did not remember how old the Chairman actually was, but she knew he underwent regular rejuvenation treatments. He extended a hand. “Welcome, Estarra. We met at your brother’s ceremony on Theroc, but we didn’t have much opportunity to get to know each other.”
“My sister is very honored to be here, Basil,” Sarein said.
Estarra gave the best smile she could manage.