The local monarchy maintained the boards as a royal monopoly and used them primarily for their cavalry arm. However, there were more than enough to trade some to their human allies and for transportation of distinguished visitors.
“Place hasn’t changed much,” Weaver commented as the two flew over the city with an escort of Cheerick air-cavalry.
“No, it’s spread a bit,” Miriam argued, pointing to the west where new construction, new homes, was clearly evident. “The big impact hasn’t hit, yet, though. Start electrifying the city, bring in cars… It will be interesting to see how they adjust. This truly is a fifteenth-century culture. The shock of new technology is going to make things interesting.”
“Gunpowder and the printing press are arguably the death of any aristocracy,” Weaver said, sliding closer to the linguist’s board. “I hope we can maintain friendly relations with whatever the successor government will be.”
“That’s the ambassador’s problem,” Miriam pointed out. “Ours is to make sure this government is going to stay on our side.”
“Ik ikki squee tik scrree!” Queen Sicrac squealed.
“We were informed that your government was going to take some more months to release the information,” the translator interpreted loudly.
The audience was taking place in front of the full court and Weaver hoped that the royal “we” form, which the queen had never previously used around him, was a result of the public display. If not, it did not bode well for their mission.
“Events forced my government’s hand,” Ambassador Cookson replied. “Our press had become aware of many details of the missions of the Vorpal Blade. Going public, as we put it, was a necessity rather than a choice.”
“We have discussed with you the subject of your press,” the queen said through the interpreter. “We comprehend the nature of the problem. However, it also forces our hand. We have not yet completed Our negotiations with the Tickreek. Are We to assume that there will soon be competing governments interfering in those negotiations?”
“Probably, Your Majesty,” the Alliance ambassador replied.
“We will not have it,” the queen said. “Until We are sure of their intentions, all embassies must remain under Our control. We will establish a trading community near Our capital and the new Looking Glass. All such emissaries will be relegated to that trading community until We are willing to open up full relations.”
“So Mote It Be,” the major domo boomed, thumping the floor with his pike.
“This audience is concluded,” the queen said, standing up. “We are repairing to quarters.”
“Ick squeak,” a page said, touching Weaver’s arm.
“He wants us to go with him,” Miriam said, frowning.
“Ik ikki squee!” the rodentoid said as sotto voce as possible given the Cheerick squeal.
“Oh,” Miriam said. “We’re to go to a private audience.”
“Ah, you’re here,” Ambassador Cookson said. Sarah Cookson was a long-service diplomat with experience in multiple countries and had previously held the position of Undersecretary for South American Affairs. Being both a senior female in the diplomatic service and with a flair for languages, she had been a natural choice for the position. Up until recently, the job of ambassador to Cheerick had also been both black and not a particularly important position. Weaver wasn’t sure if she’d gotten the job as a booby-prize or because she was an optimal choice. But she had done an excellent job thus far and interacted well with the military, a rare feat among long-service diplomats.
“Where in the hell did she get the idea to estabish a controlled trade zone?” Weaver asked quietly. They were waiting to be presented in an antechamber off a smaller audience chamber. That chamber was, effectively, the queen’s private office. Weaver had been there a couple of times on the first Blade mission and recognized the door.
“Hours and hours of discussions,” Cookson replied, just as quietly. “At this point, I think Queen Sicrac has a better handle on human politics and international relations than most presidents and prime ministers. I’d hoped for something like this but it was her own idea. She got it from the Japanese.”
“That’s what it sounded like,” Miriam said, biting her lip. “But that sort of thing isn’t going to hold as well these days. Other governments are going to be livid about it.”
“As long as the Alliance continues to support it, what are they going to do?” Weaver said. “We’re the only ones with ships, we control the portals… I can think of some complicated ways around it, but they’d be technically hard if not impossible.”
“So have I,” Sarah said. “But as you pointed out, smuggling an LGB would be difficult. One can’t pass through a Looking Glass. As to it holding, the queen is well aware that it’s a stop-gap measure. She’s mostly struggling to control the changes in society that are going to come with the new technology. New tech coming into a society like this is so destabilizing it can be horrible. By establishing an economic zone she can control the rate of change to an extent. Even if it holds for one generation it will help.”
“Ik squee, ik,” the major domo said at a knock on the door.
“She’ll see us, now,” Cookson said. “Here goes.”
“Kottander Beeeel,” the queen said, holding out both hands. “Ik squee, squeek tik.”
“The Queen welcomes her Sister in Battle,” the translator said.
“Thank you for seeing us, Queen Sicrac,” Bill said, taking both hands and placing them together with his.
“What do you think of the trade zone?” the queen asked through the translator.
“Probably the best choice you could make, Your Majesty,” Bill replied. “I don’t know how long it will hold, but it will help your people adjust to the changes.”
“It’s more than that,” the queen said. “Much more. We are in the process of making alliances with most of our long-time enemies. With your technology we are both a preferred partner to our former enemies and militarily unstoppable. They can see the truth clearly and may not like it but they are agreeing to binding treaties. If your many countries flood onto this world, making their own side-alliances, it will make my job much harder. That was the deciding factor. I’m aware that it will not hold forever. But if I can create a unified planetary government, or even something close, then my daughters will be in a much stronger bargaining position when your other countries finally come calling.”
“There is that,” Bill said, nodding. The nice thing about smart monarchies was that they tended to think long-term.
“I am also aware that political change is inevitable,” the queen said, holding up a book. Bill recognized it as a popular book on the development of western civilization. “I cannot speak your language, but I can read it well enough. Ambassador Cookson has been most helpful in obtaining books about your world and its politics. I have read so much my eyes are bleeding but I think I have a handle on what to expect of your competitors. Many of them, frankly, could be a better short-term partner. Those who support dictatorship over democracy, for example, or simply are enamored of ‘realpolitik.’ I expect your government’s more liberal elements to begin pressing for political change in my country very soon. Perhaps in the next change of your administration. Perhaps even earlier. The trade zone, again, will permit me to control that. Having looked at the facts, a representative republic is an excellent system in the long-run. In the short run, while such monumental change is taking place, with a society that is based on duty obligations and has limited understanding of personal choice, it is a potential disaster. We are far more likely to fall into the trap of a personality cult than a true republic. Which is why I’m going to hold it off for as long as possible. The citizenry must first become educated, technology must take hold, we need a stable middle-class. Then we can discuss becoming more democratic by steps. Do you agree?”