for two decades, and the brats have all grown up.”
He turned suddenly toward the queen’s corpse and stared for a few seconds. “Hey…when the Outward Fleet shipped the kids to Celestia, I don’t remember the Admiralty including any queens.”
“They didn’t,” I said. “My sister belonged to the Diplomacy Corps back then; the High Council wanted her to check with all the queens to see if any wanted to evacuate with the children. Samantha just laughed—a queen would never abandon her home territory to baby-sit a bunch of kids. It wouldn’t be regal.”
“So Celestia has ten million junior Mandasars,” Tobit murmured, “and nary a queen. Then again, who gives a shit? The lower castes are as smart as humans. They can take care of themselves.”
“But they have all these instincts,” I said. “They want guidance. They need to be ruled by a proper queen.”
Tobit made a face. “I bet a queen told you that. The poor dear peasants couldn’t possibly survive without kissing my royal heinie.” He grunted. “But whether or not it’s true, some of the damned lobsters probably believe it. Especially on Celestia, where they don’t remember life under a queen’s thumb. If they arrived as kids, what are they now, in their twenties? There’s bound to be some who think their lives are fucked up—at that age, you’re supposed to think your life is fucked up—keep your trap shut, Benny—so it wouldn’t surprise me if a chunk of the population thought a queen would make everything better. Somehow they persuaded the Admiralty to bring them one…or else the Admiralty is running a scam of its own and wanted a queen to whip the baby lobsters into line.”
“The Admiralty doesn’t run scams anymore,” Benjamin protested. “They cleaned house three years ago.”
Tobit reached out and pretended to whack the boy on the helmet. “Every time you say pig-ignorant things like that,” Tobit said, “I dock another point off your performance evaluation.” He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Fucking useless cadets.”
7
GETTING WARNED ABOUT MY FUTURE
We kept poking our way forward through the ship. The closer we came to the lounge, the more nervous I got that the Explorers would think I was a terrible captain for not cleaning up. The refrigeration had stopped people from rotting too much, but they’d still messed themselves when all their muscles went limp; the place smelled like a toilet no one had scoured for a long time. I kept apologizing in advance, saying I’d wanted to tidy up but knew I wasn’t supposed to touch anything no matter how bad it got. Just as we went through the door, it finally occurred to me Tobit and Benjamin wouldn’t smell a tiling—they were closed up in their suits, with their own air and all, so I was the only one who had to hold his nose.
Even so, young Benjamin went stone quiet when he saw dead people lying around—a lot of them naked and none nice to look at anymore. Tobit seemed okay till he caught sight of the admiral woman who’d kissed me; then he stormed straight to the corpse and stared down at it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Do you know her?”
“I know the original,” Tobit answered, “and I guess there’s a slight resemblance. Explains why Ms. Deadmeat here thought it would be a good costume for the party. But it’s not the real Admiral Ramos. Just some chippie dressed up.” He turned away quickly. “Do me a favor, York, and scrub that crap off her face.”
“I can clean up now?”
“As if anyone ever cared. It’s not like there’s a question about cause of death. Right, Benny?”
Benjamin was staring at the Willow’s captain. The captain’s holo-surround had used up its battery power days ago, so you could see the man himself now. He was wearing his uniform shirt, but from the waist down, all he had on were white socks. It was a pretty undignified look for someone of his rank. If I were a captain and thought I might die, I’d aim at
He turned suddenly toward the queen’s corpse and stared for a few seconds. “Hey…when the Outward Fleet shipped the kids to Celestia, I don’t remember the Admiralty including any queens.”
“They didn’t,” I said. “My sister belonged to the Diplomacy Corps back then; the High Council wanted her to check with all the queens to see if any wanted to evacuate with the children. Samantha just laughed—a queen would never abandon her home territory to baby-sit a bunch of kids. It wouldn’t be regal.”
“So Celestia has ten million junior Mandasars,” Tobit murmured, “and nary a queen. Then again, who gives a shit? The lower castes are as smart as humans. They can take care of themselves.”
“But they have all these instincts,” I said. “They want guidance. They need to be ruled by a proper queen.”
Tobit made a face. “I bet a queen told you that. The poor dear peasants couldn’t possibly survive without kissing my royal heinie.” He grunted. “But whether or not it’s true, some of the damned lobsters probably believe it. Especially on Celestia, where they don’t remember life under a queen’s thumb. If they arrived as kids, what are they now, in their twenties? There’s bound to be some who think their lives are fucked up—at that age, you’re supposed to think your life is fucked up—keep your trap shut, Benny—so it wouldn’t surprise me if a chunk of the population thought a queen would make everything better. Somehow they persuaded the Admiralty to bring them one…or else the Admiralty is running a scam of its own and wanted a queen to whip the baby lobsters into line.”
“The Admiralty doesn’t run scams anymore,” Benjamin protested. “They cleaned house three years ago.”
Tobit reached out and pretended to whack the boy on the helmet. “Every time you say pig-ignorant things like that,” Tobit said, “I dock another point off your performance evaluation.” He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Fucking useless cadets.”
7
GETTING WARNED ABOUT MY FUTURE
We kept poking our way forward through the ship. The closer we came to the lounge, the more nervous I got that the Explorers would think I was a terrible captain for not cleaning up. The refrigeration had stopped people from rotting too much, but they’d still messed themselves when all their muscles went limp; the place smelled like a toilet no one had scoured for a long time. I kept apologizing in advance, saying I’d wanted to tidy up but knew I wasn’t supposed to touch anything no matter how bad it got. Just as we went through the door, it finally occurred to me Tobit and Benjamin wouldn’t smell a tiling—they were closed up in their suits, with their own air and all, so I was the only one who had to hold his nose.
Even so, young Benjamin went stone quiet when he saw dead people lying around—a lot of them naked and none nice to look at anymore. Tobit seemed okay till he caught sight of the admiral woman who’d kissed me; then he stormed straight to the corpse and stared down at it.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Do you know her?”
“I know the original,” Tobit answered, “and I guess there’s a slight resemblance. Explains why Ms. Deadmeat here thought it would be a good costume for the party. But it’s not the real Admiral Ramos. Just some chippie dressed up.” He turned away quickly. “Do me a favor, York, and scrub that crap off her face.”
“I can clean up now?”
“As if anyone ever cared. It’s not like there’s a question about cause of death. Right, Benny?”
Benjamin was staring at the Willow’s captain. The captain’s holo-surround had used up its battery power days ago, so you could see the man himself now. He was wearing his uniform shirt, but from the waist down, all he had on were white socks. It was a pretty undignified look for someone of his rank. If I were a captain and thought I might die, I’d aim at
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