Certainly Cardenia had spent the first nine months of her reign being confronted with the immense inertia of the office of the emperox, and how tradition and obligation had hemmed her in. Was she not, right now, traveling by shuttle to tour a spaceship she didn’t care about, at the request of a politically connected family she disliked, with a man everyone but her wanted her to marry? Was this not, in itself, a metaphor of her entire life at the moment?

Now, however. The end of the Interdependency was not only inevitable as a matter of physics, but desirable as a matter of species survival. The monopolies would have to go as each system gathered resources and prepared for their isolation. The guild and nobility structures would have to fall, as impediments to the continuation of humanity. The lie of the Interdependency—that it was necessary and desirable—was coming to an end, and Cardenia, who had never wanted to be emperox at all, would be the one to end it. Would have to be the one to end it.

She was almost giddy about that fact.

“We’re about to dock with the Sing Out,” the pilot of the imperial shuttle said over the speakers, and Cardenia nodded. She was traveling with a full complement of assistants and guards but at least some portion of the tour would be Amit and her alone, allowing the two of them moments of agreed-upon privacy to discuss whatever they felt like discussing. Cardenia assumed, on Amit’s part, that would constitute some fumbling overtures of affection.

You don’t have to pretend you might marry him now, a part of Cardenia’s brain said, and that thought sent a pleasant shock through her system. It was true enough! The whole point of marrying Amit, or any Nohamapetan, would be to solidify the imperial house’s position with regard to the guilds and parliament, and to keep that wildly ambitious house in line, at least theoretically.

But now there was no future to consider, at least as far as the Interdependency was concerned. Cardenia didn’t need to worry about establishing imperial dominance for another generation, or currying favor with the guilds and the parliament. All that was going away. All that was left was striving to keep humanity alive after the fall. Cardenia was pretty sure she didn’t need Amit, or any Nohamapetan, for that. If Marce Claremont was correct, and she strongly believed that he was, then within a few weeks everyone would have all the proof they needed that the universe was changing.