Chapter 6
The girl’s credentials matched up. She knew all of the secret words and gestures. Gukkool’s air fleet was able to find the wreckage of her downed starship exactly where she had said it would be, decorated with the royal crest. It was an ancient ship that had been given the king in tribute: his escape ship in the event of a planetary emergency. The only starship left on planet Earth. They also saw that the ship had been able to send off a partial distress beacon before the crash, so if they shot Princess Sunny in the head and threw her to the many and various teeth below, there was still a decent chance that this would ultimately all come and bite them in the ass.
The sultan went to bed. Counselor 1 was awakened and then brushed his teeth.
They got Xolo some nice clothes and some nice food, and the same for the little royal kids. Xolo and Sunny conspired in the corner, while the young princes marveled at cage full of Grapple Slugs.
The level 8 counselors sent out data calls. They gathered as much info as they could about what was going on back on old Earth. The answer they got was, as usual, not much. The old Earthers still did their work, the mad old king still roamed around his beloved mudball. There was no reason at all why he should be sending his beloved children wormhole-bouncing into the edges of busy space unless he was conspiring with someone. It was possible that some sultan was seeking to harness the old king’s almost forgotten but still enforceable legal prerogatives. One, for example, was that he owned all swans in the galaxy, of which there were none.
But many other of the King of Earth’s rights were much more troublesome, such as the inviolable sanctity of his person and that of his family and household. The thought of this Automatic Assassin with the shield of the King of Earth over him was a horrifying one.
A ton of data moved up to level 7, where trends were observed.
Patterns moved up to level 6, where consequences were measured.
Consequences moved up to the 16 counselors of level 5.
By the time the counselors of level 4 met for their ten-minute stand-up, there were four alternatives on the table.
The level 3 counselors came in and chased the level 4 counselors away with sticks. They skimmed over what the level 4 guys had done and threw it in the trash. They drank huge cocktails and then came up with four plans all of their own. Only one of them noticed that they were basically identical to the plans that had come in from the level 4 guys, but what was the point of mentioning that?
The two level 2 counselors met quickly. The endless and recursive sexual frisson between them limited them to few words. They chose the two most compelling plans. 1) Kill all of the outsiders, sink the cruiser, come up with some story 2) Send Xolo and Sunny back to earth, Xolo with a hundred-million-dollar contract to spy on the King and make sure no-one else left that mudball alive.
They then assigned each plan to a different fruit. Plan one would be a mango. Plan two would be a star fruit. They assessed the fruit that was tendered to them by the galley master and, in honor of the standing of their offices, picked only the very freshest examples. They then sent the fruits to the Level 1 counselor. He placed them on the sacred dishes. And carried them to the Sultan’s quarters.
As usual Gukkool said, ‘What’s all this about?” and as usual Counselor 1 said nothing. A sweet aroma of stars met Gukkool’s nose and he reached down for the star fruit and then rammed it into his mouth.
Counselor 1 bowed and left.
“That fruit guy is alright,” thought Gukkool.