MECH - By B. V. Larson Page 0,3

governor was carrying a load of files in that bag of his on both of us.”

“Cease your prattle!” Mai Lee was becoming increasingly agitated.

Steinbach glowered and pursed his lips. “I take it you want me to do something about this rather large team of problems.”

“Ignore them for now. Kill the new Governor. Give him just enough time to let his guard drop a bit, but not enough for his flashy little escort to get organized.”

“Direct,” said Steinbach with an amused nod. “Quite a tall order milady. Might take a good deal of credit.”

“Do it.”

With a cordial nod, but not the bow that she demanded from her staff, the General turned on his heel and left.

She snapped off six months worth of nail-growth from her fingertip as she jabbed the cut-off button. The scene of the spaceport faded. She walked to the north side of the room, where a wall of one-way glass looked out over the city and into the forest of red hork trees beyond. The fruit on the tallest of the giant trees glittered in the sunlight.

She thoughtfully tapped her chin with the remaining inch of her broken nail, then called the Governor.

* * *

Governor Rodney Zimmerman was sitting naked in his bath, sipping from a glass of green hork-fruit wine when Mai Lee’s call came through. He was quite irritated. It was time for his afternoon sex, which he liked to have while relaxing in his ten-thousand gallon tub, to be followed immediately by his afternoon nap. To his mind, there was no room in this scheme for a rude call from the dried up old prune that had helped appoint him. Accordingly, he let the phone chime six times, flashing Mai Lee’s ID and stern image on the screen each time, lest he forget who it was that was calling, before he gulped his wine and opened the connection.

“Working hard as usual I see, Governor,” she said, making no attempt at pleasantries. She stared rudely at his exposed fatty pink abdomen and stick-figure arms.

“I’m on vacation,” he said stiffly.

“Naturally,” she purred, a dangerous sound.

“Of course, it’s always nice to hear from you, Empress,” he smiled, using the title he knew she liked best. There hadn’t been an official Emperor or Empress of New Manchuria since the earliest years of the colony, but Mai Lee had the proper blood and the power to fit the title.

“I’ve got some unpleasant news for you,” she said, pausing to ponder her broken nail. Governor Zimmerman knew she was playing with him, but couldn’t help responding with a groan. He so hated bad news. Bad news usually meant work at the capital, or worse, a field trip away from his beautiful villa on the rim of the famous Stardrop Cliffs to some squalid corner of Garm.

“Do you recall how you got your post, Governor?”

“Why... why, of course,” stammered Zimmerman, spilling a dollop of his green wine into his steaming bathwater. He had refilled his glass, having sensed he might need bolstering. “I was appointed by the Planetary Senate.”

“After the unfortunate demise of the duly commissioned Governor Riedman sent out from Neu Schweitz by the Cluster Nexus.”

“Yes, the shuttle accident over the Desolation, a black day for the colony,” said Zimmerman, really beginning to hate Mai Lee all over again. She had swung her clan’s votes in his favor unanimously, which when added to the block from the Zimmerman’s made him a shoo-in for the appointment. She all-too-often made a point of recalling this to his attention.

“Yes. I recall your presence at the funeral. You can fake tears like a holo-actor.”

“Could you get to the point, Mai Lee?” he asked with uncharacteristic bluntness. Her prodding was beginning to get under his skin, which was pruning up badly in the churning waters. His paygirl stepped out onto the terrace wearing a terrycloth skirt and slippers. He waved her back into the house. She left with her lower-lip protruding in an exaggerated pout.

Mai Lee appeared to be enjoying herself. “Ah, how strange are these coincidences of fate that change the faces of power.”

Feeling the first pang of real worry, Zimmerman leaned toward the phone, pressing his flabby side against the cool lip of his tub. “What’s happened?”

Mai Lee’s eyes ceased wandering and focused back on his face, her black-eyed gaze hardening. “The new Governor has just arrived on the Gladius. He will be claiming your title shortly, I suggest you prepare a reception for him.”

“What!” cried the Governor, horror-struck. He sunk back into the