“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 guards sweated and strained to pull the massive barriers open again. Finally, they swung wide enough that the delegate’s spherical environment chamber could pass through.

Mustering all his dignity, the King stared at the strange, perfectly round container. The chamber contained milky vapor, probably a thick high-pressure concentration of gases that the hydrogue creature breathed. A burst of steam emitted loudly from the diving-bell sphere, startling the royal guards.

Finally, one of the court green priests came in from a back alcove, stumbling under the weight of a potted treeling, much larger than was meant to be conveniently moved. Frederick belatedly realized that it was foolish not to have several worldtrees waiting in the Throne Hall at all times, though Basil had feared the Therons could use them to eavesdrop on the activity at court.

“Have you gotten through to the Chairman?” he said harshly out of the corner of his mouth. He could not tear his eyes from the fearsome environment sphere that glided toward him on some sort of levitating mechanism.