“I’m sorry,” Thyllia said, yawning. “We aren’t being the best hosts.”

Vwokhu smiled as she set down the main course. “Nonsense, dear, you are a new mother. Namø did not sleep for…how long was it, Akwe?”

“Sixteen years,” Akwe said, dryly. “Parenthood is wonderful, but do not expect to get a full night of sleep for…well, do not expect to get a full night of sleep.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. He – well, his hologram – virtually held Lexie, who was watching the room intently, if sleepily. “Izzy told me that she hoped I’d get some rest, and I am going to get less than I do on the Antero. At full battle alert. In Insectoid Space.”

“And yet you’re already lamenting having to go back, aren’t you?” Kullervo said, pouring mosaberry juice in glasses.

“Yes,” Ryan said. “If it was peacetime, I’d have a few months, at least….”

“We knew what we were doing,” Thyllia said. “I know you’re worried about leaving me alone with Lexie, but with Pryvani, and Rixie, and Alex, and Khali, and Odin, and the half-dozen other people who are willing to take her for a bit….”

“And me!” Asteria said, from her seat at the table.

“Oh, you’d do fine, Princess,” Ryan said with a yawn, as he gently stroked the peach fuzz on Lexie’s head. “Especially with Starry’s help. I just don’t want to leave my daughter. She’s pretty amazing.”

“Yes, she is,” Thyllia said. “She’s wonderful.”

“She is. And yet you will be tempted to drop her out an airlock sometimes,” Tellervo said, with a smile. “Don’t feel bad about it. Every parent does, at least if they’re doing it right.”

“Now let me hold her, please,” Vwokhu said. “You should eat.”

“For someone who hasn’t been my grandma until a few weeks ago, you’re doing a good job of being a grandma,” Ryan said, passing Lexie to her great-grandmother.

“I have lots of practice. And being a grandparent is easy.”

“Absolutely,” Kullervo said, nodding at her. “You get to give them back.”

“I’m just impressed that your mother thinks she’ll be back tonight,” Akwe said. “I didn’t realize Vorsha was that close.”

Thyllia chuckled. “The Pygmalion, Galatea, and Amaterasu all have priority clearance through the system. Only Imperial Military vessels take precedence. Pryvani offered to give it up when the province was formed, but they agreed to simply continue the financial arrangement she had with Vorsha and Azatlia. Thanks to that, once you hit the system it’s less than an hour to landing; you could never do it if you had to wait to clear control.”

“Oh, mom could do it,” Ryan said. “If she wanted to badly enough. I know she felt bad about going tonight, dad did too, but….”

“Nonsense,” Kullervo said. “This is quite the momentous occasion. Especially given the number of Avalonians who will be there.”

“There are one or two you don’t even know about,” Ryan said. “We’re the Tol-Bot capital of the universe, people just don’t realize it yet.”

“I do wonder how Rixie will maintain kayfabe with Alex in tow. Isn’t that a giveaway?”

“Daddy’s got a costume, like mommy,” Asteria said. “But don’t tell anyone, cause it’s secret.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing that!” Vwokhu said.

* * *

“So any last-minute questions?” the large, armored figure asked.

“Just one,” said the smaller figure. “How are we supposed to eat in these things? Is there a straw or something?”

You couldn’t see the larger figure roll her eyes or crack a smile, but a deep baritone rumbled, “First, we’ve been over this, there’s a setting that opens up the mouth. And second, you’re going to make me break character, aren’t you?”

“Never,” the tiny figure said from his perch on the Iron Maiden’s shoulder. “I’m getting it out of my system now so I don’t.”

That drew the most demonstrative head motion of anything Alex had said so far. “I love you,” Rixie said, in the deep, growling voice of her Tol-Bot persona. “I love you so much.”

“Now, now,” Alex said, “if you go getting sappy while you’re in the armor, it’s gonna make role-playing a lot less fun.”

“Oh is it? Because I can think of a few ways to roll with this, you know.”

You couldn’t see Alex’s wide grin from behind the red and gold mask that covered his face, but then, Rixie didn’t need to. “I love you so much,” he said.

“Gorram right you do,” Rixie said, as the doors to the lift opened, and she stalked into the room.

The annual Tol-Bot Awards Banquet was being held in Tremarla this year. Vorsha was to be the site of the Grand Tribute in 2128, and everyone agreed that it was fitting, given everything. It was the last tourney in Vorsha that had started the path that led to this night.

Now, the Tol-Bot Banquet generally draws a crowd of luminaries – several members of the Hall of Honor; the top competitors from the previous year; the occasional politician; sometimes even someone ridiculously famous and powerful like the Emperor, or Pryvani Tarsuss, showed up. It was televised live on Sports Feed 888, and it was always a nice coda for fans and players alike, the marker between the end of the Tournament of Champions and the beginning of qualifying for the next year’s tribute.

But even by the standards of the banquet, this was an unusually star-studded affair, and if anything was a sign of that it was Iron Maiden’s presence. She rarely came to these anymore, though of course she was always welcome. But she was not the only luminary there; for goodness’ sake, Lord Black himself had shown up, clearly frail but in good spirits. And speaking of spirits, Spirit caught Rixie’s eye with a smile and a nod. Dibilique was here too, as was The Executioner, Felltree, and some past champions who had formally outed themselves, like Custar and Crorye Auscy, along with their human partners, Itasu and Biaso.

They were all here because this was to be a momentous night for Tol-Bot. It was not just the first time that a non-Titan would officially win player of the year honors – Gravity had earned them and then some, and that alone might have drawn this crowd. But the primary reason they were there was the person entering the room, who even now was drawing raucous applause.

It was not the small woman in geisha make-up and an Asian-inspired shirt and pants, though in truth she deserved the applause quite as much. No, it was the man she carried. (Well, she carried a man and a woman, both wearing jester’s garb; the man would not have shown up if he couldn’t bring his wife along.)

The man was here to be recognized, at long last, for his victories. To be recognized as the champion he was, three times over.

The Maiden settled into her table, near the front, one table over from the man of the hour. She could have felt slighted, she supposed – she was The Maiden, after all – but given that she was seated with the only other real contenders for Greatest of All Time…well, she’d let it slide.

“Champion, it is good to see you again,” Felltree said.

“And you, champion,” the Maiden added. “I appreciate the work that you did at the last meeting. I apologize for my absence.”

“It was understood by all. All of us have many duties. And the duty you were attending to was sad and necessary.”

The Maiden nodded. She felt very much like she was neglecting the 67^th, even if her recent trip to Naesavarna had been driven by tragedy and duty. They were not overwhelmed, but there were steady requests for their expertise, and while Rixie contributed remotely, as they all did sometimes, she felt like she should be there for meetings. It was her command, after all.

She didn’t mind the work; indeed, Rixie was happy to be exercising mental muscles that she hadn’t for some time, all while hopefully making her son’s job easier. As for Aisell…while she was quite happy that she was helping kill bugs, she was also getting herself back into better mental shape than she’d been in since she’d won the ’24 Tribute. She had decided to go back for one more bite at the apple. Get the seventh title. Then retire for good, as the all-time best.

(Aisell wouldn’t admit it, but deep down she knew there were arguments for Iron Maiden, Lord Black, even The Marionette for that title. But then, that’s how sports has always worked; half the fun for fans is asking whether the Maiden’s short and dominant career was more impressive than Felltree’s longer and more decorated one.)

“It is always nice to see that champions know and work together outside the arena.”

The Iron Maiden turned to the old man, who was sitting next to a woman who was about Rixie’s age. He was wearing a dark gray court uniform, and a black mask with five stars on the forehead. She was glad that he had chosen the one he’d taken to wearing in retirement, one that let his grey eyes twinkle through.

“Champion, one might think that you knew nothing of what Felltree and I were up to,” she replied; even with the rumbling baritone of the Maiden, anyone who knew her would have been able to identify her by her dry tone.

“One might. I have heard grand things about your group, champions. Even if some of what I’ve heard is that you spend a good deal of time delegating tasks to shaars.”

“That’s half the fun of it,” said a female titan, part of the final couple to join the table. Well…couple was wrong, as in truth, they were a foursome, and the only group at the table not in costume – though Crorye’s dress was not dissimilar to her competition garb, and Custar’s suit matched the colors of his last competition outfit.

The two other members of the group were set gently on the table by Custar, and joined Alex at a scaled table in the eighth spot of the larger one. Both looked slightly older than Alex – they’d been life-extended a little bit later in life. But like Alex, they were both much older than they’d ever thought possible, and none of them was complaining.

“Hello, I’m Itasu Auscy, this is one of my wives, Biaso Nilio; Custar and Crorye are our other spouses.”

“I’m officially in kayfabe,” Alex said, reaching out a metal hand. “The Maiden doesn’t want to close off her options quite yet. But we’ve met; last time you were on Avalon, on karaoke night at Rixie’s.”

“I kind of figured,” Biaso said, “but you know…kayfabe. I’ll never really understand it.”

“So what are you going by, then? We wouldn’t want to break kayfabe by calling you by your real name,” Itasu said with a chuckle.

“Well, she’s the Iron Maiden, so I,” Alex said, “am Iron Man.”

Itasu and Biaso stared at him blankly.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’ve never seen any of the Marvel Cinematic Universe! That was one of the biggest film franchises ever to come out of Earth! Iron Man, Hulk…I mean, Ant-Man! Guy who could grow and shrink! That would come in handy, you know, a lot.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Itasu said. “Some sort of adventure story?”

“Yeah, I was…um…well, I got interrupted right after the first Avengers movie, and it was a good 20 Terran years before I was able to catch up. Seriously, if you’re looking for something to do while the spouses are sleeping for a week and a half, it’s worth a download.”

“Is it a holovid?” Biaso asked.

“No, film. Trust me, it’s still cool, I know everyone thinks old movies are dull.”

“I enjoy old Earth movies,” said Felltree’s companion. “Have you ever seen a film called Mr. Smith Goes to Washington? I know, Earth politics doesn’t actually work that way, but it’s nice to think it would sometimes.”

“I do, Madam Floor Leader!” said Alex. “Hmm…I don’t know if I can do a good Jimmy Stewart impression in this suit, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

* * *

Odin sat at the old dining room table in his mother’s apartment, scrolling through spreadsheets and reports. His brow was furrowed; they had a large amount of money, but not an infinite amount, and both Freeman and the Federation needed a great deal of assistance. His heart told him to spend freely in Freeman – he had too many friends there, and besides…they weren’t the Federation. But his head told him that stabilizing the Federation would pay dividends long-term, and that the Foundation was best-served by making sure that they were well-off. He hated having to choose; hated that they couldn’t take care of everything. He wondered if he could ask his mother for a loan to the Foundation against his future inheritance; it wasn’t a wise financial decision, and it would depend on how liquid Pryvani was – she had put a great deal of her own money on the line in the last ten years, and while the Tarsuss Corporation was doing better than ever, her personal wealth had fallen by roughly half, even with some very lucrative investments paying off. Granted, that still left her as the wealthiest woman in the Empire by a factor of ten, but it meant that it was a little harder simply to pull out a pad and throw money at things.

(He supposed he should resent that his mother would likely leave him no more than her father left her, and possibly less, but he knew that the money she had spent had been to make his father a full citizen; if she left him nothing but a title, it was worth it.)

He was so deep in thought that he did not notice immediately when his mother set a glass of kapavi down next to him.

“What’s this for?” Odin asked.

“I thought you might like a drink,” Pryvani said. “You’ve been back on Avalon working for four days solid, I’ve barely seen you. The Foundation’s work is important, but working yourself to the breaking point helps nobody.”

“Just…trying to line everything up. It’s not easy,” he said.

“It never is,” Pryvani said. “I’m hoping you’re going over proposals, not trying to do the math yourself?”

“Well, I got several proposals from finance, but I’m trying to move some things around,” Odin replied.

“That’s fine…up to a point,” Pryvani said. “But remember, if you could do the job on your own, you wouldn’t have employees. If you’re getting bad counsel, fire them; if you trust them, don’t assume that you’re the person to find the magic solution they haven’t. Your job is to make decisions, not to write the drafts.”

“I don’t mind it, honesty,” Odin said. “It keeps my mind occupied.”

“Of course,” Pryvani said. She waited a moment, then pulled the pad away from her son, gently, but firmly. “Take a break. Or I’ll fire you.”

Odin sighed, but looked up. “Okay, okay. What’s up?”

Pryvani smiled gently, and asked, “How is Manto?”

Odin took a long, deep breath, and let it out, and then he took a drink.

“That good?” Pryvani asked.

“She’s…she’s safe. She was assigned to Wing Six, they’re flying off of the Faederon VI, but it’s just getting up and running. Lauryna Gwenn is the Adjutant for Ishaytan Fleet, and Izzy Ibanez is Ops Director, so she knows her CAAG’s boss, which is nice.”

“I imagine so,” Pryvani said. “How is she doing?”

“She’s…fine,” Odin said.

“How are you doing?”

Odin smiled, and looked down. “I’m…well, I’m busy. I just….”

“Odin, I know you’re worried about her. And I know from talking to Taron that Manto is…well, that she is worried about what happens if she dies. And that she doesn’t want to make you a widower just after you get married.”

“It’s probably not my problem anymore, I guess,” Odin said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Odin said, downing the kapavi. “I…asked her to marry me. Before she shipped out to Titan Station for deployment. She…she said no.”

* * *

“I just want to say again,” said another human, who looked young even in costume, “I’m really honored you’re willing to introduce me tonight. I never thought that would happen, it’s….”

“Gringo, you’re a champion now. Hells, you’ve been kickin’ butt all over the place. You should expect former champs to want to introduce you. Ain’t gonna be the last time someone like me does.”

“Still, it’s not just that you’re The Marionette, I mean, I know we…well, we’ve met outside of Tol-Bot, but still, I mean, my mom….”

“Your mama was a helluva soldier,” said The Marionette. “Not surprised you’ve got a mind for it. But like I said before, I ain’t anything special, I’m just a soldier and a guy who used to be good at a game.”

“Well then, perhaps we should cancel the event,” said a very old titan man, settling carefully into a chair beside them.

The Marionette rose, and smiled. “Champion Minokus. Was worried you wouldn’t be here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Champion,” said Arcturus Minokus. “Not only is it your night, but I may not live to see next year’s event.”

“You’ve been sayin’ that since you turned 85, and every time I’ve seen you the last twenty years,” The Marionette said with a grin. “And you’ll probably be tellin’ it to the champ here when you’re 125. Champion,” Darren said to Gravity, “This is The Remedy, two-time Tribute champ and Grand Daeatidis of AMBO for twenty years. If he’d been a worse man, my run in ’02 woulda been over real quick.”

“It was,” Minokus said, “my finest moment, if I do say so myself.”

“Champion Minokus, sir…I watched the 2051 Tribute the week before I won,” Gravity said. “I got the idea for my feint in the Space round from the move you put on Hefty. It’s…I’m very honored sir.”

“I thought I recognized that move,” Minokus said. “It seemed familiar. Young Champion, you never know if you will win the Tribute again, so enjoy this. They can’t ever take it away from you.”

“Technically, they can,” said the Titan woman in Geisha make-up. “And about time.”

“Now Puppet Twat, that ain’t true. Only bad part of the night is that you won’t be a champ anymore. I wouldn’t have been there without you.”

“In more ways than one,” Eyrn replied, with a sad smile.

* * *

Pryvani waited, patiently, for her son to continue. She didn’t press him; that wouldn’t yield an answer. She simply waited for him to go on.

“She said…she said she was worried,” Odin said. “Worried about being Lady Tarsuss someday. Worried that she wouldn’t…wouldn’t fit in. That she wouldn’t be good enough. Especially because…because she was human-sized. And I tried to tell her…I mean, if that was something any of our parents cared about neither of us would exist! How could she think that would bother me? That when I was Lord Tarsuss, that I’d listen to anyone who would slight her?”

“Because she’s just a person, Odie,” Pryvani said, keeping her voice even. “Because no matter how much she knows you love her, she knows what discrimination humans have faced, better than you or I ever will. And because of that, even knowing you love her isn’t always enough to make her feel like it can possibly be true.”

“That’s ridiculous. No way dad ever acted like that.”

“Oh, Odie, of course he did!” Pryvani said, refilling his glass. “And he wasn’t wrong! We hid your father’s identity for decades; do you think that never hurt him? Or that Prince Pierce didn’t resent that his wife’s family pretended he didn’t exist? Or that Alex didn’t worry that Rixie couldn’t possibly find him to be worthy of her love? Everyone has moments where they are insecure. Even me. Add to that the burden of being tiny, and looked down upon, literally – you cannot begin to understand what it is to be human-sized, any more than I can. Well…perhaps a bit more. You are a hybrid. But a Titan-scale one. And that is a difference.”

Odin looked down, and sighed. “I just…I don’t know how to get her to understand.”

“You can’t,” Pryvani said. She paused, and decided to plow forward. “Did she break up with you?”

“I…don’t know. I don’t think so,” Odin said. “She just said…she said she wasn’t ready to say yes, She wasn’t sure. And she had to be sure.”

“She’s right,” Pryvani said. “And you know she’s right.”

“It still hurts though,” Odin replied, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He tried to gain control, the way his mother had always been able to, but Pryvani grabbed his hand.

“Don’t fight the tears, Odie. You do not have to hide them from me. Ever.”

“I just…I worry,” he said, “that she’s gonna…that she thinks I don’t….that she thinks I’m like them.”

Pryvani did not have to ask who “them” was. She knew all too well.

“You are not, Odin. And you prove that to her by respecting her decision. If your father asked to leave me tomorrow, it would cut my soul in two. But I love him enough that I could do nothing else but let him go. I can see what you’re doing; you’re throwing yourself into work. And you probably aren’t talking with Manto as much as you could. Am I right?”

“As usual, yes,” Odin sighed.

“Well then,” Pryvani said, “put the pad away. Dry your tears. Go to your room, and call her. I happen to know that the Faederon VI is in the Tantalus system right now, they aren’t at battlestations. Call her, and just talk. And don’t pressure her, don’t demand anything. Just show her that you love her more than it takes to ask them to marry you; show her that you love her enough to lose her.”

Odin nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I…thanks, mom. I don’t know if I can convince her. Ever.”

“Of course you don’t,” Pryvani said. “But you certainly will not if you do not try.”

* * *

In the common area of the Imperial Dungeon, a man played idly with a pad while the videoscreen broadcast Iron Maiden, speaking about how much she respected Felltree. He was trying very hard to ignore it; he knew exactly why it was on, and knew that if he went back to his cell, the Emperor would have directed it would be on in there, too. Tonight, they would give that human his titles, shaming Tol-Bot and the Empire. Of course Tiernan would want him to see it. The Emperor had made sure he saw it all – the passage of the Zeramblin Act, the swearing-in of Ammer Smit, the summit with the humans after the Battle of Tau Ceti, the appointment of Ryan Carey to serve as captain of the Antero…Tiernan had been as good as his word. Ziah Solis had seen almost everything come to pass that he’d worked to prevent.

“Are you ready for the card game?” a nervous voice said from over his shoulder. He sighed.

“Any time their worshipfulnesses are ready, Shatad.”

Shatad Praxa swallowed hard – she had gotten to know many people who she had considered heroes before she got here, and though she knew them now as people – and often, as annoying people – she still struggled with the instinct to worship them for their work. And so she nodded, and headed through the common area to a corridor, where two women were talking. One, who had just entered the dungeon in the past week, was perhaps in her forties; her hair had gone gray, but she still looked reasonably fit, as if she was not far-removed from days of action. The other was older – Shatad knew she was only 67, but she looked to be in her mid-seventies, and she had the appearance of frailty, of someone who was wearing down after the 25 years she had spent imprisoned. And yet she poked a finger into the chest of the younger woman, who was quite obviously terrified of the woman she faced.

“I should split your gut open and rip your intestines out, you know,” the old woman was saying, her voice a low growl. “You’re the reason I’m here. You and your frakking ‘insurance.’ And your reckless aggravation of Rixie Tam and Pryvani. You are only alive because you are useful to me.”

“Syon, that was 25 years ago,” the younger woman said, “and need I remind you, I’m here because I was….”

“Shut the frak up, Vasha,” Syon said, eyes darting to the cameras in the corners. “Or I’ll do it right now.”

Shatad cleared her throat.

“Time for the card game already?” Syon asked.

“Yes, Lady Fand,” Shatad said, quietly.

“This one understands how to show respect,” Syon said, jerking her head toward Praxa. “All right, I’m coming. So are you, Vasha.”

“I hate cards,” Vasha said.

“And yet you ran a casino. The Terrans call that ironic, you know,” Syon said. Vasha blinked at her. “Oh, come on, in the past 25 years you haven’t read up on their culture? You can’t defeat your enemies without knowing them well, Vasha. You always were lazy, though.”

Vasha Zakrov snorted. “You were happy to spend my money, Syon.”

“Yes, well, you wouldn’t have put it to good use,” she said, sliding into a seat adjacent to Ziah Solis. “Hello, Ziah, ready to play?”

“I have been for quite some time,” Solis said. “Getting tired of listening to that.”

The Tol-Bot Banquet now featured the Floor Leader, who was introducing the Marionette. Syon chuckled. “I do hope that Brid is paying attention to rumors. He could use this down the line.”

“You know Mr. Brid,” Solis said. “Not two functioning neurons in his head. And Eras is wise enough not to mention it; if he did, you’d have everyone from Pane Segdi to the Emperor backing up Ms. Armac’s story.”

“That is true,” Syon said. “By the way, what day is it today?”

“It is Dalyag,” Solis said.

“Dalyag?” Syon repeated.

“Dalyag.”

“Are you sure it’s not Penkyag?”

“Yesterday was Ilkyag, today is Dalyag,” Solis said.

“Ah, so tomorrow is Tratyag, and Kvotyag comes afterward,” Syon said. “Vasha, it is Selaugu.”

That conversation was spectacularly dull to anyone listening to it, and the conversation would remain dull to anyone listening to it. So let us instead talk about translators.

Translators are incredibly important devices; it’s not an exaggeration to say that the Empire could not function without them. Yes, they could use some less-intrusive form of translation, like the Terran Gools. But it wouldn’t be the same; the simple ability for Dunnermac, Ler, Avartle, Titans, and Humans to converse using their own languages, while still communicating clearly to the others, and while doing so in real-time, allowed the Empire to function with each species feeling as if they understood it fully, without any sort of veil between themselves and the other constituent species. This was an illusion, of course, but it was a very convincing one, and that held them together.

Of course, in order for this to work, translation devices had to be connected to the language center of an individual. And that connection had to be direct, with input and output directly to the frontal cortex or its anatomical equivalent. In short, a translation device is literally reading the thoughts of the individual using it. And because of this, it could in principle be used to track the most intimate thoughts of a person.

It could be. But it isn’t. Imperial Law forbids any attempt to access a translation device for any reason other than maintenance and medical necessity. The law states explicitly that any member of the House or Senate who submits a bill to loosen those restrictions has by that action resigned from the body. An Imperator who tries to read a translator is guilty of petty treason; an Imperator who succeeds in reading a translator is guilty of high treason. And this is true even in cases where the Dodecahedron is operating outside the law; the Emperor himself is bound by a permanent Imperial decree to protect the right of all peoples to be secure in their thoughts.

Now, this does not mean that nobody has ever thought to hack a translator. But those that are caught are going to Rura Penthe for life, and are unlikely to survive their first few days there. Even Syon Fand, as many horrible things as she had done, would never have dreamed of trying to use someone’s translator against them. Not because it wouldn’t be useful, for it would, but because such an act would inevitably lead to a world where your own translator was being hacked, and nobody’s private thoughts were private. And that would be the end of privacy, or translators, or possibly both.

Of course, the translator is a marvelous piece of technology, and if you know it isn’t going to be hacked, and you happen to have a top-of-the-line one, and you know the person you’re dealing with does as well, and you’re willing to risk occasionally confusing people around you, well…there’s no rule saying that the language you translate has to be a real language. Granted, this isn’t usually the first, or second, or fifth option – the risk of confusion is too great, as is the risk of leaked information. After all, if you’re using a coded language via translator, it can be translated.

But sometimes, it’s still the best option left. If, for example, you’re in the Imperial Dungeon, with your activities constantly monitored.

And so, as Syon said “Vasha,” Vasha heard a soft tone in her mind, the sound of a new language pak being uploaded to her translator from a nearby person. And by the time Syon began dealing, and saying things that, to a casual observer, sounded like they were related to a card game, Vasha’s translator suddenly locked on to the meaning behind those words, as did Solis’s and Praxa’s.

“First card, blaze it down, check in salaman?” Syon asked, dealing a card to Vasha, but what Vasha heard was, “Why didn’t they put your attorney here?”

“She is giving up everything she knows. Rimosi will be arrested in the next year or so,” Vasha said (more or less), tapping the table to ask for another card.

“Rimosi has outlived his usefulness anyhow,” Solis said. “He’s a distraction now. No offense, Dr. Praxa.”

“If he was a better leader, the Federation would still be free,” Praxa said. “And if he was braver, he would have done something other than run.”

“You did more for the cause than he ever did,” Vasha said, nodding. Syon laughed bitterly.

“Yes, ‘the cause,’ of course,” Syon said, tossing more cards out and picking them up. “Gotta keep those humans down. And you can’t just step on them, far too messy. They crunch, and you have to clean your shoes….”

“Lady Fand, I still don’t understand why you don’t think humans are a threat,” Praxa said. Syon snorted derisively.

“Everyone’s a threat. Humans are just one of many threats, Praxa,” Syon said. “I don’t care about them living or dying. Don’t misunderstand, hybrids are a perversion of nature, and they should be destroyed. But humans? They’re no better or worse than any of the rest of us. No, I don’t care about humans. I do care, though, about seeing the outside of this dungeon before I die, and I know that Tiernan ColVanos won’t be the one to make that happen. The only way I ever walk free is if you win your little insurrection. And so I’m quite happy to help you murder the humans and the hybrids, as long as it gets me out of here.”

“I am never entirely certain if you are being extremely honest or lying to me,” Solis said. “Most likely both. But to be equally blunt, whatever your reasons for helping, we are glad for your assistance; you still have some reserves to draw on out there. I don’t know how, after all this time.”

“Syon was always paranoid,” Vasha said, studying her cards.

“They were out to get me, Vasha, that’s not paranoia, that’s good planning. I tried to warn you. The only person smart enough to listen to me was Pryvani, unfortunately. Anyhow, we have a topic at hand.”

“Indeed we do,” Solis said. “I received word through my contacts that Keystone intends to make a move against the Carba Throne. She has a secret heir in place.”

“Secret heir. So Audara Bjelki,” Vasha said. “Kullervo’s oldest.”

“Probably his oldest,” Syon said.

“Who else could be older?” Vasha said, sitting up a bit.

“Possibly nobody,” Syon said. “These are rumors about rumors about rumors. Hirera did not do things by half-measures; what I’ve heard comes third-hand some thirty years ago. But nobody was ever able to falsify it. And if there was another Throden heir out there…well, I had hoped to find them and use them. Someone else certainly could.”

Solis nodded. “That said, there were only a handful of options that Hirera would have had available. None of the Jotnar noble families have anyone in them who’s the right age, and there were only a few in the 79. Aud eliminated them through careful investigation. She even followed up the one notion you had – that the child went to the Hoplites – but the only likely option was Rixie Tam.”

“Rixie Tam?” Vasha said, eyes narrowing. “You don’t seriously think….”

“No, no, it was just a possible thread, and Aud pulled it,” Syon said. “Nothing to it, apparently.”

“She got enough time to study the Carey Family records to grab Rixie’s DNA code,” Solis added. “It does not connect to the House of Throden. No, If there is an heir out there, they were hidden well. Not that I believe there is; she would have had the pregnancy terminated if there was one.”

“One moment…Aud just checked the code? Not live DNA?” Syon asked. “I thought she got a DNA sample. You’re telling me she just checked records?”

“That is the information that I have. Still, that would be enough, I should think,” Solis said. “It’s not as if one can switch the codes.”

Syon looked at Vasha, and Vasha back at her.

“That’s not enough to rule her out. Aud should compare her DNA to Rixie Carey’s,” Vasha said. “Get a direct sample, and stay off the main computers. It’s not likely, but….”

“Oh, come now. This is all based on your tuppbrained theory that Kullervo had a child when he was a teen,” Solis said, tossing a card onto the table. “That’s unlikely enough. You can’t seriously think that someone is spoofing Rixie Tam’s DNA pattern?”

“It can be done,” Syon said. “Not by many. But the Dronung…she would be able to.”

“Well, then, let her prove that she is his daughter if she wants the throne,” Solis said. “Even if her DNA record has been altered, her official record shows no link. We haven’t found a link. And there’s no evidence that she even thinks she is, is there?”

“Clearly not, they left her with the Hoplites,” Syon said. “And if she thought she was a Throden, she’d wouldn’t have been the ally to the royals that she is. She’d have spent her time plotting revenge, and given that she outmaneuvered both Vasha and me…well, there’s a reason Pryvani has kept her in her employ. My eldest daughter is not a fool. But still…I would not put it past Pryvani to know, to have a card in reserve, just in case she needs to play it. She is my eldest daughter.”

“If Carey is Kullervo’s daughter, doesn’t she get to be Dronung then, based on this plan?” Praxa asked.

“It’s a big if, and besides…she has to be alive to become Dronung,” Syon said, throwing down her cards. “In the unlikely event that there is evidence that she may be Kullervo’s daughter….”

“Honestly, even if there isn’t,” Vasha said, eyes flashing.

Syon smiled tightly. “As much as I would gladly stick the knife in her gut…we have limited resources, and killing Rixie Carey simply for revenge is a poor use of them. But I am not above researching this further. If she is Kullervo’s daughter, well…we would both gladly see her heart stop, wouldn’t we?”

“I will transmit your concerns. But it will take a few weeks,” said Solis. “And in that time, they may make their move. They have the majority now, and waiting may not be prudent.”

“I don’t really care what happens to Jotnarherath,” Syon said. “Send the information; if Keystone is as smart as she thinks she is, she’s already identified this potential weakness.”

“And if she hasn’t?” Vasha asked.

“Then she’ll get herself in trouble, just like you did.”

* * *

The Iron Maiden did not have to wait patiently to speak with anyone as the banquet broke up, not even Darren Xanthopolous.

He was Darren Xanthopolous, now; he had unmasked himself during his speech. Rixie understood why; he had proven everything he needed to prove. He didn’t have to play anymore; Gravity was around to demonstrate the prowess of humans, and Darren’s activities on Avalon were more notable than even his Tol-Bot career. Still, she was just a bit wistful; the Iron Maiden and the Marionette would never meet again in the Arena. At least, not officially.

She was glad that during the Aenur Foundation fundraiser during the strike, they’d introduced him as the Marionette. They’d let him come into competition under his own name. And that was enough for him, Rixie knew. Darren had pride, but it wasn’t a showy kind of pride.

The Iron Maiden had waited patiently to speak with him out of respect for him. And as she reached the table, and bowed slightly, he turned to her and saluted.

“Galatea, it is always good to see you. And that was a heckuva speech you gave for Featherhead.”

Rixie felt sure Daren could see her stifle a chuckle. Recomposing herself, she said, “Champion, congratulations. And I am sorry we will not meet in competition again.”

“Oh, we will. Just not with people around. And I’ll whup you like usual,” Darren said, grinning.

“We have one Tribute match to go off of,” the Iron Maiden said. “And we know who won that.”

“Barely,” Darren said. “Barely. But you didn’t come over to trash talk. For one thing, you came over to say howdy to the wife.”

“Lysis, I know you are already planning your revenge.”

Lysis rolled her eyes even more than she was already doing as she stared up at the Maiden. “’You have to go in costume,’ he said. ‘If you don’t, they’ll all know who I am,’ he said. And then the jerk –”

“Aw, come on, Lysis, you know I couldn’t let that chance pass. Same reason Galatea has Pygmalion dressed up in the Iron Man suit.”

“That was his idea,” Iron Maiden said.

“Of course it was,” Darren said, “don’t know why I thought different.”

“So what is next for you?” Iron Maiden asked. “I know that Lysis does not want you just hanging out, or worse, discovering more lost tribes and getting shot by them.”

“If he’s going to, they’ll need better aim,” Lysis said, though with a grin.

“LIke I’ve said, no more explorin’. Tommy Boy saved my bacon, and that’s enough. Not that Amelia’s ever gonna let me forget it.”

“You were prouder of him than she was,” Lysis said.

“Aw, hush woman, how can I keep him properly scared of his in-laws if he thinks we think he’s great? Anyhow, got a suggestion from Arcturus. He said they’re always looking for former players to join the Diatitis; you know how it is, so many diatitis don’t have a clue how it is in competition, at least, not at the high levels. And…well, not all of ‘em are gonna make sure the game’s played square like it should be.”

Iron Maiden nodded. “And a champion-Diatiti is always respected. Just as Minokus was. I can think of few players who would be a better-fit for the role.”

“Well, we’re still thinkin’ it over,” Darren said.

“Honestly, I love the idea,” Lysis added. “It gets you out of the house…but not too much. As much as I tease you….”

“Gotta spend a little time apart, or else you don’t have the fun of comin’ back from a trip,” Darren agreed. “But just a little. Not too much.”

“And it’s always best when you come back safe,” Lysis agreed, squeezing his hand.

“You are a wise woman, Lysis,” Iron Maiden said.

“And me?” Darren asked.

Iron Maiden shrugged, and nodded good-bye to them both. And Darren broke down laughing as Rixie walked away.