Interesting that, while I once had a character refer to a much younger Empress Faustina as “a tremendous bitch,” it seems that Aurie and Annie are right up there, too. Perhaps it is the years of stress of autocracy which lends to callous behavior? Or, does a person need a callous soul to accept the burden of rule?

I’m excited to see what the years have done with Reina. I’d best write that, now. I bet Allie looks cute with a band-aid over her nose after that fall. In the mean time, I need to look up the name of the Jap emperor; that was two books ago and I’ve forgotten. Sucks to get old.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

On their approach to St. Petersburg, Alicia spent a few minutes on her tablet talking with first the Pope and secondly the Patriarch of Constantinople.

“It’s my junior partner,” the latter laughed through his long, gray beard, “the Patriarch of Moscow, who gets to see you in person.  Perhaps you can come visit my holy City before you rush home?”

“I’m not really in a rush, Your Holiness,” not entirely sure that was the proper title, “but I shall try.  The Golden Horn is said to be very beautiful.”

“It’s a bit of a dump, as we’re cleaning out six centuries of Turkic mess, but know you will be welcome, Martian Hero.”

“Holiness Stilitis, please…!”

“You have changed all of human history with your discovery, even if accidental.  While I plan to retire at the end of this year, I would like to meet someone who was born on another planet before I’m hoisted up Athos.” The old man smiled.  “God be with you, young girl.”

Keeping this in her heart, Alicia felt the ship drop on final.  Rather than Pulkovo Airport, they were setting down in the Palace Square, next to the Alexander Column, just southeast of the Hermitage.  In her mind, she saw the crowd, the bands, the pageantry.  This is making me nervous enough to be sick.  If there is to be a war, it will be between the Rus and imperium.  I am a part of both.  I’d sooner die…!

“We’re here, Princess,” an aide given to her by Aurelia said from the aisle next to her seat.  Outside, through the cameras, she saw Tsarina Anastasia be helped up onto the central platform.  The band began the Russian Imperial Anthem.

“Very good,” she smiled and stood.  “Let’s go say ‘hi!’”

Having taught herself Russian, not particularly well, on the crushing flight from her home to Earth, Alicia gave her third and worst speech in three days.  She would pause to get the conjugates right, stealing a glance to the human Tsarina at her right for help – none forthcoming – and soldier on.  The audience didn’t laugh or look terribly confused.  So maybe I pulled it off, she hoped.

“And most importantly!” Anastasia said, gently nudging her from the microphone on the platform, “is that as many great men and women of the Russian Empire have given their lives to our colony on the Red Planet – ”

I might be young, but even I got that…

“…not one has lost his life in battle!  And a battle with something not of our world!” She cannot be going where I think she is, Alicia feared.  “Mikhail Zhukov is a Hero of all Imperial Russia!  We will remember him forever!  I invite the Patriarch of Moscow to speak.”

Now with the Tsarina’s arm about her, she listened to another bearded man talk of the martyrdom of Zhukov, and his fast-track to sainthood.  They can use this to start a war.  Why is Anastasia being so bull-headed about this?

With a whoosh of a curtain, Alicia glanced behind her to see a ten meter tall portrait banner of the man she built a cairn over.

“You must stop this,” she whispered to the Tsarina.  “I will not let war come to my home.”

“You, child, will do as you are told,” was the old woman’s reply.

Frail Martian she was, Alicia jerked out of the Empress’ grasp and walked off the stage.  Perhaps at a signal from Anastasia, the band began to play again.  Aurie!  I cannot do this!

You can and must.  Pretend tiredness.  I promised you I will be there for your meeting with Reina in an hour, was the instant reply.

Fine.

One step before the pavement, Princess Hero Alicia Alvarez (nee Hartmann) tripped over her own feet and tried not to think about how much her face hurt from falling down.