Play the Maiden’s Part
© 2020 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  Foxena


My, my, she’s certainly pretty, Felix al-Sakai thought as the leopardess was shown into his office. The woman had been searched thoroughly, including for any contact poisons or specially-tailored pathogens, and General Parsons himself had superintended the searches and the background checks that had probed her past as far back as her grandparents. She was exactly as the infonet said she was.

And the fact that she was a very attractive member of his own species made him immediately wary. Did they think he was actually stupid enough to let a pretty face betray him?

The leopard had been standing in front of his desk as the door opened, and now he smiled. “Good day, Halabi-jih.”

The femme waited until the door closed before returning the smile. “Good day, Lord Protector. Thank you for agreeing to the agency’s request. I know that you’re very busy,” she said earnestly.

Felix said, “Not so busy that I can’t agree to tell my fellow Terrans – within reason, of course – what’s going on. Please, shall we sit?” He gestured toward two chairs off to one side of the office, which offered a view of New Melbourne’s Zidne Harbor. Sol shone wanly through the heavy clouds.

“Thank you, and thank you again for taking the time to talk with me,” and she preceded him to the window, giving him the opportunity to see the sway and roll of her hips under her knee-length skirt. She sat and unfolded her padd as he took his seat and said, “Halabi Yasmina, United Information System, talking in real time with His Highness the Lord Protector Felix al-Sakai.”

Felix’s ears perked. “I wasn’t aware this was going out live.” If it was, he’d have the Information Minister over a slow fire by lunchtime.

Halabi gave a soft chuckle. “Of course not, Your Highness. Whatever questions, answers and images are recorded will be vetted, and edited accordingly.” For just an instant, her mask slipped to show a cynical expression. “Our viewers don’t know that ‘real time’ news is actually an hour or so old, and hardly any of them would care if they knew. May I continue?”

Clever. “Please.”

“Lord Protector, what can you tell us about the progress of the war between the Confederacy and the Kashlani?”

Felix made a point to act like he was considering the question, stroking his chin with a paw before replying, “So far, and without giving away too much, you understand, I would say that the war is proceeding according to our AI’s projections. There have been setbacks, of course, but war is a very messy and chaotic business.”

Halabi nodded. “It’s being reported that the Colonies have declared war on the Confed.”

“That is true,” and he kept his claws firmly in their sheathes. The nerve of that leafeating scum to insult him like that . . . well, he’d learn better manners before he died. “I can only say that their leadership is deluded, or under Imperial influence. I can only hope that they’ll come to their senses and rejoin their cousins here in the Core worlds.”

“And Indawo?”

He allowed one ear to flick, ever so slightly. “Indawo was an example to our Colonial siblings. They may be our relatives, but you don’t take sides against your own family.”

“I see. What other inducements are you offering to draw the Colonies back into the family, as you put it?”

“I might be saying too much,” and he leaned toward her, just a few centimeters, “but several Colonial worlds and stations have already come back to us. Still, we are offering economic aid and slightly greater autonomy.”

Halabi brought both of her paws up, clasping them together as she rested her elbows on the chair arms. “Just before I came in, Lord Protector, I heard the news that the Senate filed a motion for consideration by the Supreme Presidium.” She met his gaze and added, “The motion is for the Presidium to offer you the old Imperial crown.”

Both his ears went up as his jaw sagged open in shock, followed by the leopard almost flopping back in his chair and laughing. “You must be joking – you’re not?” he asked as she shook her head. “Deus, I didn’t need this news.”

“You didn’t know?” the leopardess asked.

“No, I didn’t, and if I had known I would have done my best to persuade the Senate to drop the matter entirely. I have far too many things to do, what with the war, running the government, and trying to get the Colonies out of Kashlanin fingerclaws. I’ve hardly seen my wife and sons since my mother’s funeral, and hardly saw them before that.” He drew a breath and his tail wound around his booted ankles as his expression grew melancholy. “I miss them. My eldest, Vladmir ibn Felix, will be ten soon, and I’ll likely miss his birthday. Again.”

Halabi made appropriate commiserating remarks, and moved the questioning into less sensitive areas. After an hour, she left.

While the office was swept for any bugs she might have left behind, the leopard returned to his desk and waited for the internal security officers and his guards to leave. As soon as the door closed Felix scowled at desktop, which now showed a scouting report from the Navy.

The Navy had been his life, which was expected of the only son of two admirals. His father, Vladmir ibn Luis, had died years ago in a training accident as the older ship he was in suffered an engine failure. Both his father and mother had harbored ambitions for him.

The report indicated that the Colonials were assembling a fleet. The leopard allowed himself a sneer, a simple lifting of the lips to bare his teeth on one side. Well, as soon as his forces had met and annihilated the traitors, he would “consider” the Presidium’s offer.

With every show of reluctance, of course.