As Chairman, he never had a moment of peace. Given the vastness and complexity of the Terran Hanseatic League, Basil Wenceslas expected and accepted a constant string of crises and emergencies. He had to make the decisions and mitigate the disasters. In moments of triumph, King Frederick gloried in the applause and accolades; whenever a plan went wrong, faceless and unnamed bureaucrats took the fall. Either way, Basil remained safely behind the scenes.

The devastating and inexplicable alien attacks, along with the massive military buildup, had preoccupied him for months, taking him from less pressing duties. Now, belatedly, he checked on the progress of the new Prince, Peter. He had to make sure all the threads in the tapestry remained tightly knotted.

Sitting in a comfortable chair within a private business alcove beneath the Whisper Palace, Basil sipped hot cardamom coffee from a delicate china cup. He observed through surveillance cameras as young Raymond Aguerra underwent more training. Inside a windowless tutorial room with several chairs, benches, projection screens, and writing tables, the Teacher compy OX continued his lesson, though the Prince appeared restless and bored.

“When the Ildirans brought the Peary officers and myself back to Earth, the celebration and the public reaction were quite memorable,” OX was saying. “After one hundred forty-five years, the people on Earth had thought the generation ships gone forever, but when the Ildiran Solar Navy arrived at Earth—the first alien civilization humans had ever encountered—the public didn’t know how to respond.”

The old compy paced back and forth as he related his history files. “The Ildiran military officers dressed in dazzling uniforms and flew their streamers through our skies. The cheers were deafening!” OX actually sounded wistful. “As the senior compy aboard the Peary, I had observed and recorded every moment of the initial encounter. I was able to replay my experiences for humans and download my files to other compies so they could spread the news.

“The Terran Hanseatic League immediately transferred my services to their highest corporate levels. Back then, King Ben was on the throne, but he died shortly afterward. I trained young Prince George, just as I am training you. The Hansa gave me private quarters, an office of sorts, which was unheard of for a compy—” OX rambled, as he occasionally did when sharing his reminiscences.

Raymond tapped his fingers on a smooth writing surface and let out a loud sigh. “OX, if your personal database is so maxed out with nostalgia, why don’t you just delete some of the old memories to make room?”

Taken aback, the Teacher compy fell briefly into a flustered silence. “Because it was history in the making. I must retain my memories, Prince Peter, because I teach by using my own life and activities, to instruct you by way of example.”