In a daze, his faint resistance further dampened, Raymond stepped with OX toward the arched gate. The crowds had fallen silent. The rich carpet stretched around the lavish courtyards, so the media could capture his every slow and careful step. Impeccably uniformed royal guards lined the pathway, protecting him. Raymond raised his chin, then took one measured step and another and another.

The coronation passed in a dream. It seemed to take forever to walk the length of the crimson aisle. Entering under the ornate arches, he passed into the reception hall leaving behind a chorus of deafening cheers. As he strode forward, the ranks of packed spectators grew in importance: corporate heads, visiting dignitaries, celebrities, and vocal supporters of King Frederick.

When he finally reached the Throne Hall, feeling isolated in spite of the overwhelming number of supporters, Raymond was dazzled by the sheer wonder of the chamber. Along with the new King himself, the people on Earth and the Hansa colony worlds got their first glimpse of the restored Throne Hall.

All reconstruction had been completed at a breakneck pace, erasing every vestige of damage. The restored throne looked identical to the one King Frederick had used, though it was perhaps even a bit larger, a hint more magnificent. More mirrors and prisms and stained glass had been added to the Hall. Not a stain or scar remained, not a smudge to remind the population of the recent devastating event.

The cheering and applause increased. Nothing had changed. The Hansa had shrugged off the destruction caused by the alien emissary.

Raymond plodded toward the raised dais and the waiting throne. Around the impressive chair stood a group of the Hansa’s most important people—the governors of the ten most powerful colony worlds, and the robed and dominant Archfather of Unison, Spokesman of All Faiths. His voluminous purple cape and robes bore diamond stitchery, a constellation of designs incorporating the symbols of all the diverse religions from Earth’s history—crosses, circles, crescents, trees, meshed into a tangled maze that no longer meant anything at all. The Archfather was an empty and symbolic religious figurehead … with a role similar to the one Raymond would fill.

As the young man ascended the first step, the first of the colony governors held the revered crown and passed it to the next man, who handed it to a governor one step up, and so on, from hand to hand. Each of the important spokesmen touched the crown and passed it upward, showing symbolically that King Peter’s reign derived from the support of all factions, businesses, and creeds. Finally, the blank-faced Archfather smiled at Raymond, his eyes glittering, and intoned congratulations and blessings in eight different languages, ending with Trade Standard.

Raymond stared straight ahead, fighting the odd displacement and numbness. The Archfather reached forward, bowing, then completed the ceremony. With the crown finally settled on his blond head, Raymond didn’t feel its weight at all. Not yet.