Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [95]
Basil's face darkened at the reminder. "If we had more green priests at regular checkpoints around the Spiral Arm, we wouldn't have this communications problem."
The King decided it was time to act regal. "By my scepter and sword, Basil, no need to complicate the issue with old sore spots. The people are clamoring for answers. How shall I respond right now? I value your advice."
Basil frowned at him. "You listen to my orders."
The King tried not to look stung by the rebuff. "Then give me orders, Basil. Tell me what to do."
At night, as seen from above by dignitaries in observation zeppelins, the Whisper Palace looked like a celebration of candles. Eternal torches burned from every spire and cupola, every lantern post and bridge pillar. The crowds in the square, people streaming across the bridge over the Royal Canal, and those holding special invitations to wait on the Palace grounds proper—all held candles or lights of their own.
Led by a procession of his advisers, accompanied by one of the green priests stationed on Earth, and followed by numerous uniformed envoys from important Hansa colony worlds, Old King Frederick marched along a promenade to the bridge. Royal guards opened a path for him. Crowds raised their candles and illumination globes high.
Out in the press of people, surrounded by an uneasy space, a single Klikiss robot stood, just watching. It made Frederick uneasy, and he frowned.
King Frederick's advisers had robed him in the muted blacks and purples of mourning. He walked with a ponderous step, as if he carried a great weight on his mantled shoulders. The processional music was deep and slow, like a dirge. The Archfather of Unison had already led the audience in prayer, issuing consoling words. The Archfather's main purpose was to keep them soothed—not much different from the King's task.
The crowds simmered into a restless quiet as Frederick finally reached the end of the suspension bridge spanning the Royal Canal, where four iron lampposts stood like sentinels, their flames hissing and burning skyward.
Basil would be watching from a high balcony inside the Whisper Palace's main cupola. He had directed the technicians, so they knew what to do. Timing would be important.
Frederick had made mistakes lately, he knew, but this time he called upon his best powers of oratory, summoning raw emotion and speaking with all the grief he could put into his face and his thoughts. Real tears glistened at the corners of his eyes, and one tracked down his cheek. The close-up cameras would catch that.
The King's voice boomed out, rich and paternal. "For many years, the Terran Hanseatic League has helped humanity to expand across the Spiral Arm. We have established footholds on many new worlds, carrying our civilization to the galactic community. But even in the face of such glorious progress and accomplishments, we unfortunately falter." He paused, as if drawing strength.
"Not long ago I announced our creation of a new sun through human drive and ingenuity. Its family of moons were to be developed into new colonies."
Frederick hung his head. "But now, sadly, I feel like a parent who has lost his children. In an unprovoked attack, an unknown aggressor has snuffed out our hope for these vital new worlds, which were named in honor of my predecessors. We must understand why this has happened. And then we must avenge."
He lifted his head to study the burning flames that sparkled from the bridge pillars. "But first we must mourn."
Frederick approached four bridge pillars that symbolized the four destroyed moons. He reached out to the first towering post. "These flames were meant to be eternal, glowing in recognition of human-settled worlds. Now, alas, these four must be extinguished."
He touched the metal base of the nearest pillar. Inside the Palace, Basil's technicians shut off the flame, symbolically extinguishing the glowing fire.
When all four bridge pillars