Later that day, Voqras returned to the Governor’s Palace to make arrangements for their trip to Tastassi. Lord Boggond received him in his office.

“I know Eia doesn’t have a space fleet,” Voqras said. “Am I correct in assuming you have a personal transport, Your Grace?”

Was the hint of condescension in the cyborg’s voice real or was it a fruit of Lord Boggond’s imagination? It had to be the latter.

He felt affronted nonetheless. “When I, or a high-level Eian official travels off Hente, we charter one of Star of Xereill starships with a full crew.”

“You won’t need to charter anything this time.” Voqras flashed his perfect teeth. “Governor Horbell will send a spacecraft to pick us up.”

Lord Boggond opened his mouth to say, Thanks, but I prefer to travel with Star of Xereill.

But then shut it and nodded instead. He was too curious about Horbell’s spacecraft. Just as he was curious to see Horbell’s planet and modified cyborg facility. “See” being the key word here. If Voqras had reported to Horbell that Lord Boggond was ready to trade his independence for a cyborg battalion, he’d jumped the gun. Because that wasn’t the case.

At least, not yet.

The small party left Hente the following day after dark. While traveling, Lord Boggond noted the fancy equipment on Horbell’s utilitarian spacecraft. But each time Voqras explained the purpose of this or that implement, sensor or field generator, Lord Boggond tuned out. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

To each his own. Lord Boggond’s destiny was to govern his realm and eventually his whole planet once he was endorsed and could turn his vision for Hente into reality. Lesser men—men like Voqras and Ultek, and even Sebi and Heidd—were made for lesser things, such as wielding weapons and flying tins. Because, by Aheya, this vessel was a tin! All of its top-notch sensors notwithstanding, Horbell’s spacecraft had none of the elegance, comfort, and amenities of Star of Xereill spaceships. Amenities that Lord Boggond’s rank required.

He grimaced.

The hyperspace jump had made him queasier than usual. His churning stomach made the journey seem endless, even though it lasted only two days. Sinking into his much-too-firm and much-too-narrow seat, Lord Boggond resolved that in the future he would fly exclusively with Star of Xereill until he could afford a luxury spacecraft of his own.

When they touched down on Tastassi, it was early morning.

The hatchway door opened, and tropical air rushed into the spacecraft. Yuck. Lord Boggond grabbed the handrail with a sticky hand and followed Voqras down the ladder. Yes, a ladder. Not the carpeted stairway with a canopy he was used to.

What a strange way to welcome a guest!

Governor Horbell stood on the tarmac, flanked by his security detail. A dozen more armed cyborgs were lined up nearby.

Panic seized Lord Boggond. If, for some reason, Horbell and Voqras took him hostage now, the bodyguards he’d brought along wouldn’t be able to stop them. They were big, well-trained men, but they were organics, like him—like everyone on Hente. Organics were no match for bionics in strength.

Horbell wants to form an alliance, Lord Boggond reminded himself, taking a calming breath. Abducting me wouldn’t help his cause.

When he stepped off the ladder, Tastassi’s governor had a funny look on his face. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Horbell waved his hand. “Nothing. Never mind me. Welcome to Tastassi, Caretaker Governor Boggond!”

The party climbed into motorized vehicles with Lord Boggond sitting next to Horbell. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“What’s the program?” Lord Boggond asked.

“My capital city, my palace, my office,” Horbell said. “Then you fly back to Hente.”

“Won’t you show me your modified cyborg facility?”

“Not this time.”

Lord Boggond turned away to hide his disappointment. “What about the Empire War Memorial?”

“What about it?”

“Aren’t we going to lay flowers at the feet of some local martyr’s statue?”

“No.”

Frowning, Lord Boggond turned back to Horbell. “Every official visit I’ve made as vice governor or as caretaker governor started with the Empire War Memorial. We have the same protocol for official visitors to Eia.”

“You’d think the stupid ritual would fade away after a hundred years!” Horbell’s lips twisted as if he had something foul in his mouth. “It’s the anniversary of the defeat that gave it second wind.”

Lord Boggond started at Horbell’s slip of tongue. The League of Realms and the entire galaxy were celebrating the hundredth anniversary of the Allied Realms’ victory this year. It was the Empire that had suffered a defeat. Was Horbell a closet imperialist, one of those oddballs who always romanticized the past, no matter how shitty it had been?

How unusual for a self-made man! Lord Boggond cocked his head. “So, I take it we aren’t going to the memorial.”

“Why would we? You aren’t here on an official visit.”

“True.” Lord Boggond tried to make light. “I wouldn’t mind a welcome banquet though.”

No answer came.

They drove past a nature reserve—one of many on the planet. According to Yemella’s detailed briefing, Tastassi boasted Xereill’s richest diversity of animal life.

Lord Boggond craned his neck. He couldn’t see any land animals, but he spotted a few exotic birds wheeling over the steamy jungle of the reserve. One looked like a huge bat with two heads.

Horbell followed Lord Boggond’s gaze. “Did you know that the latest Xereill Bionics Act voted by LOR bigheads bans giving animals cyborg implants?”

Lord Boggond turned toward him. “Oh? Why?”

“Because they are sentient beings.”

“So are we Ra-humans,” Lord Boggond said. “Yet we can become bionics.”

Horbell smirked. “If we choose to. Or if our legal guardians chose it for us before our birth.” He stared out the window. “That bill makes no sense to me.”

“I suppose LOR wants to avoid mistreatment and abuse of animals.”

Horbell huffed out a breath. “Rubbish! If I, as Tastassi’s governor, decide to give those two-headed birdies steel jaws and dagger teeth, why is it any of LOR’s business?”

Lord Boggond considered reminding Horbell that tourism was Tastassi’s main industry. Weaponizing the planet’s exotic beasts would scare away families that flocked to it from all over Xereill. It was a dumb idea, regardless of what LOR officials thought about it.

But he bit his tongue, expecting Horbell wouldn’t appreciate the irony. The man was bold yet oddly touchy and high-strung. Then again, he was an ex-drifter, a rags-to-riches commoner who’d never be Lord Boggond’s—or any noble-born ruler’s, for that matter—true equal.

Deep inside, Horbell was bound to know it and resent it.

Lord Boggond sat a little taller at that thought.

The vehicle came to a halt in front of the Governor’s Palace—an imposing building not unlike the one in Orogate. Lord Boggond followed Horbell and Voqras inside. The interior of the palace was quite similar, too—until they reached Horbell’s office. It was small and barely furnished.

Yet another peculiarity.

Decidedly, Horbell was full of them. Every social climber Lord Boggond had ever met craved status symbols more than anything. But not Horbell. Perhaps indifference to such symbols was part of his public image—the image had gotten him endorsed.

“How badly do you want to get endorsed, Lord Boggond?” Horbell asked him after glancing at Voqras.

“More than anything.”

Horbell gave him a satisfied nod. “And what do you think of Captain Voqras’s services?”

“Erm… He’s efficient.”

“Would you like him to stay on?”

What? Lord Boggond hadn’t expected this. He didn’t particularly like Voqras, but he’d grown used to counting on the cyborg’s hive-mind-enhanced advice and on his undeniable competence.

Was Horbell going to call him back now, seven months before Eia’s Endorsement Vote?

That would leave Lord Boggond too dependent on Ultek, and the realm too vulnerable. Teteum’s king might disregard the peace agreement and attack again if he believed he could pull off a lightning war this time around.

Why hadn’t Lord Boggond thought of that when he agreed to remove Heidd?

Luckily, it wasn’t too late to backtrack. He was supposed to inform Ultek and Voqras of his decision on whose men would execute the commander upon his return from Tastassi. He’d tell them it would be neither. Heidd had proven himself more crucial to Eia’s security than anyone in Lord Boggond’s entourage. He was staying.

Horbell surveyed Lord Boggond. “The turmoil in your eyes tells me you find the captain more than just efficient.”

“He’s very good,” Lord Boggond said through his teeth. “Could you spare him a little longer?”

“Until the Endorsement Vote?”

“Has Voqras been keeping you appraised?”

Horbell smirked. “What do you think?”

Lord Boggond gave him a deadpan look.

“Come, let’s not poison our budding friendship!” Horbell’s tone was conciliatory as he tapped Lord Boggond’s shoulder. “I’m not here to hold you back—I want to help you fulfill your destiny.”

“Why?”

“You’ll understand soon enough”—Horbell’s expression grew sympathetic—“when you’ve helped me remove a few thorns from my side.”

Aha! Lord Boggond put his hands on his hips. “Is this when you ask me to do something highly risky for you if I want to keep Voqras?”

Horbell laughed. “I would never ask you to do something risky! All I want is your friendship, and your vote at LOR. Is that such a bad deal for you?”

“Hmm.” Lord Boggond eyed him. “The voice of reason tells me it can’t be that simple. It tells me to beware of you. But…”

“But what?”

“There’s another voice in my head—call it intuition or a sixth sense—that tells me you’re the answer.”

Horbell pushed his chest out. “Perhaps you should listen to it.”

“Tell me about the cyborg corps you offered in your letter,” Lord Boggond said, eager to change the topic. “What kind of capacity are we talking about?”

“You could hire a squadron of two hundred modified cyborgs, each worth a hundred bionic soldiers.” Horbell steepled his hands, fingertip to fingertip. “It’s like augmenting your defenses with a 20,000-strong army of lethal, fearless, and loyal warriors.”

“Loyal to you.”

“They’re loyal to whoever pays them.” Horbell shrugged. “They’re mercenaries.”

“Isn’t ‘loyal mercenaries’ an oxymoron?”

“In any event,” Horbell said, “our interests are perfectly aligned, Lord Boggond. You have no reason to be so guarded.”

“Paying two hundred cyborgs would mean slashing my army’s already-tight budget and the public schools’ budget. I have nowhere else to cut.”

He’d probably have to dip into the LOR reconstruction funds, too—even if he’d been hoping to use them for something more pleasant like purchasing antiques.

Horbell smirked. “I wouldn’t worry about public schools. Education for the masses is a terrible idea. The less they know, the easier they are to rule.”

Lord Boggond was in agreement on that point.

“As for the army, it won’t matter,” Horbell said. “You’ll only need them as cannon fodder when you go to war with Teteum. Then you’ll send in the cyborgs. And win the war.”

Ah, so that was Horbell’s game!

With Heidd out of the picture, Ultek would weaken Eia’s regular army to the point of making it useless. Then Voqras and his hive cyborgs would become Lord Boggond’s only defense. And he, Lord Boggond, would become Horbell’s puppet.

Was that the grand destiny he dreamed about?

“I’ll have your cyborg squadron ready in three weeks,” Horbell said. “Then you’ll come back, test their abilities, sign the paperwork, and go home with an elite corps. Possibly the best one in the galaxy.”

“Suppose I sign your contract, which I doubt I will,”—Lord Boggond narrowed his eyes—“are you saying your winged demons could defeat Teteum’s army?”

“Yes.”

Lord Boggond tilted his head to the side. “Are you also saying they might defeat the Enforcer Corps, if the two clashed?”

“No.”

“No, of course not.” Lord Boggond smiled and spread his arms, conceding it had been a ludicrous proposition.

Horbell’s gaze remained ice-cold. “I’m not saying they might defeat the Enforcer Corps. I’m saying they will.”