Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [214]
When no one moved to open the Whisper Palace doors, the alien voice pulsed again. "I am the hydrogue emissary. I demand to speak with your king."
Inside the Throne Hall, Old King Frederick squirmed in anxious confusion. What was he to do? Basil Wenceslas was not here. The Chairman had gone to Ildira to meet with the Mage-Imperator, leaving him to sit on his throne and maintain the appearance of stable government.
"I've looked over your calendar, Frederick," Basil had said before departing. "There is nothing that requires immediate attention, and if anyone should demand that you make a decision, stall them. Send me a message. I won't be gone more than a week."
Who could have guessed that after so many ignored demands for parley, the deep-core aliens would choose this moment to appear in person?
"Get me a green priest," King Frederick said. "We must send a message immediately." He would ask Basil what he should do. Unfortunately, on Ildira there would be few, if any, green priests to respond. The King had to hope his message would get through, that someone in the Mage-Imperator's palace could use telink for instant communication.
Nearby, the minor court advisers, equally terrified, pressed close to the throne, drawing upon the King's imagined strength, hoping Frederick would keep control of the situation.
Outside, the emissary's enclosed sphere hovered impatiently in front of the barred doors. Thin, ominous wisps continued to hiss from the sphere's vents, like a fuming and impatient dragon.
"Tell him we're considering the request," Frederick said, stalling, and the message was relayed. He felt desperate for someone to lean on. "And find my old Teacher compy OX. I might need to tap into his information."
The alien's liaison tank reminded King Frederick of a diving bell. Recalling that these—what had they called themselves, hydrogues?—lived at incredible pressures deep within gas giants, he realized the crystalline sphere must be an environment chamber. Any alien emissary would have had to enclose himself like that, just to survive in Earth's atmosphere. He couldn't imagine the pressure it must contain.
"That small tank could be filled with weapons, Sire," said one of the court guards.
"Probably." King Frederick heaved a deep breath. "We've seen that those large warglobes can obliterate entire moons. If the aliens wanted to, they could have launched an outright attack on Earth. Instead, their emissary decided to knock on our door. I think...I think we should hear what he has to say."
"I still don't trust them, Sire," said another adviser. King Frederick kept forgetting all their names, since the people changed so often.
His stomach in knots, Frederick shifted uncomfortably on his large throne. Now of all times, Basil was not there to whisper words into his ear. Frederick would have to play this on his own terms. After decades of acting experience mouthing the niceties of diplomacy, today he would have to be a real King. He steeled himself, sat up straight, and raised his right hand. "Very well. I command you to let the alien emissary enter my Throne Hall."
The court guards and advisers muttered disapproval, but the old King glowered at them. "I must hear him out. Perhaps he wishes to sue for peace! For months we have begged them to communicate with us. We have repeatedly requested negotiations or peace talks, and until now the aliens remained silent. How can I refuse to see this emissary simply because he has not arrived at my convenience?" He clenched his ringed fist and slammed it down on the arm of his throne. "No! If we hope to put an end to this conflict, I must have words with this creature." He raised his chin. "Let the aliens explain themselves and their actions."
The arched outer doors, which had been hastily barricaded upon the arrival of the emissary's tank, were unbarred. Royal