“I believe a solution is at hand,” Basil said with confidence. “The old Theron ambassador has just departed for home, and I have made arrangements that she be asked to retire. ‘Iron Lady’ Otema’s successor will be far more sympathetic to our cause and more ambitious in changing things for the better.”

“Oh, good. One big happy family.” The sarcastic Relleker envoy sipped at his juice, frowning as if he had expected it to be wine.

From a silver pot on a warming stand, Basil poured himself a steaming cup of cardamom-laced coffee. He turned to gaze across the arboretum toward the Whisper Palace. “The Hansa will survive and grow, as it always has.”

Cradling his cup, Basil walked around the chairs, pondering his next words. Knowing enough not to engage in idle chatter, his listeners waited for him to get to his next point. Unlike history’s more brutal powermongers, he did not want his underlings to fear him but to respect him.

“The Spiral Arm is open for business, and the Hansa has generated enormous income. We’ve drawn great wealth from the Ildiran Empire, we’ve built solid infrastructures, and we’ve seeded new and efficient industries on burgeoning colony planets.” He gestured out the window wall toward the spectacular Whisper Palace. “All of us here know the human race is currently in its golden age. But only wise decisions and a strong leader can continue the economic boom and renaissance.”

Basil finally got to the primary point of the meeting. “Unfortunately, my friends, our most effective tool—old King Frederick—is long past his prime. You’ve all watched him deliver his speeches. He’s showing his age, he’s tired, and though the people seem to love him, he no longer inspires much fervor.”

He looked at them one at a time, holding their gazes. The envoys dreaded the issue he meant to raise. “King Frederick is no longer the proud hero the Hansa needs as our figurehead. His popularity ratings are dropping and, frankly, he’s grown too complacent in his position.”

Admiral Stromo looked at Basil in horror, as if the Chairman had spoken treason. “What about all of the King’s duties? We can’t afford a drastic transition. Think of the social upheaval.”

“I prefer to think it would energize the population. Old Frederick is our mouthpiece, nothing more. He performs few important functions. In fact, Admiral,” Basil said pointedly, “our King is little more than a living flag to salute.”

The Yreka representative seemed quite nervous. A glint of sweat appeared around the line of her red hair. “I’ve been dreading this day.”

Basil went to a cabinet next to the wet bar and removed a stack of thin filmscreens, each one surrounded by a red security border. A thumbpad displayed information only to the person to whom the screen had been coded.

“The Hansa needs a striking young ruler to replace the old King, someone the people can rally around.” Basil lowered his voice. “And we all know that none of the King’s actual children by his courtesans is appropriate for our purposes.”