said disgustedly.
“They were past objecting,” he said with an amused smile. “Why do you object?”
“Do you know the last monarch to impale his enemies?” I said.
“The first Tchaka.”
“Before that.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?” he said.
“Vlad Dracul,” I replied. “He was known as Vlad the Impaler, and was such a monster that he served as the model for the fictional Dracula.”
“What is your point?” he asked.
“Do you want to be compared to Dracula?” I said.
“Vlad lived a thousand years ago,” said Tchaka, “and people still know of him. Name a single person from that century-commoner or monarch-who lived within a thousand miles of him.”
And that was the end of the only discussion we ever had about impalement.
16.
One of the colony worlds Tchaka had appropriated was the agricultural world of Lincoln. They had put up some minimal resistance, but he beat it back in less than a day, installed Colonel Khuzwayo as the military governor, informed the citizens that they would be paying their taxes to the Zulu Empire rather than United Earth, and paid no more attention to it-until the day a message from Lincoln got through to Earth, complaining about the treatment the world was receiving at the hands of its governor, and beseeching Earth to come to their aid.
The government of United Earth shot off a message to Tchaka, demanding that he immediately withdraw his forces and relinquish all claims to Lincoln. There was an unspoken…or else at the end of it.
I was there when the message arrived. Tchaka read it, then handed it to me and told me to read it aloud, which I did.
No one knew quite how to react. No one wanted to yield to threats, but on the other hand, we didn’t have the strength to fight United Earth’s fleet. And of course no one dared voice an opinion for fear it would disagree with the only opinion that counted.
Tchaka waited, idly stroking Nandi, who was curled up on his desk, until he was sure no one was going to say anything.
“We have two choices,” he said at last.
“Yield or fight,” said an aide, nodding his head sagely.
“You are a fool,” said Tchaka, “and I have no use for fools. Get out.”
The aide promptly walked to the door without a word. He didn’t know if he was fired or merely dismissed from the meeting, but he wasn’t sentenced to death, and that was enough for the moment.
“As I was saying,” continued Tchaka when the aide had gone, “we have two choices. We can ignore their message, or we can reply to it. If we ignore it, they will almost certainly send an identical message tomorrow. If we ignore it again, and continue to ignore all future messages, they will eventually send a diplomatic envoy to explain their demands. We, of course, will kill him and appropriate his ship.”
He looked around the room, but no one dared show a reaction until they knew which alternative he favored.
“If, on the other hand, we choose to reply, it will be to tell them that Lincoln is under our protection, and we will take all measures necessary to protect it from United Earth’s territorial aggrandizement.”
“They are still preoccupied with their other military actions,” offered an advisor. “They will send a few token ships.”
“They will send a fleet,” said Tchaka. “This is not a matter of our annexing an unpopulated world. They will not ignore an appeal for help from a former colony.”
“Even if we ignore the message and they send a diplomat and we kill him, they will send a fleet anyway,” said the first aide.
“And if the diplomat is sufficiently popular with the masses, they may feel compelled to send an even larger fleet,” said Tchaka. “I see no purpose in delaying the
“They were past objecting,” he said with an amused smile. “Why do you object?”
“Do you know the last monarch to impale his enemies?” I said.
“The first Tchaka.”
“Before that.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?” he said.
“Vlad Dracul,” I replied. “He was known as Vlad the Impaler, and was such a monster that he served as the model for the fictional Dracula.”
“What is your point?” he asked.
“Do you want to be compared to Dracula?” I said.
“Vlad lived a thousand years ago,” said Tchaka, “and people still know of him. Name a single person from that century-commoner or monarch-who lived within a thousand miles of him.”
And that was the end of the only discussion we ever had about impalement.
16.
One of the colony worlds Tchaka had appropriated was the agricultural world of Lincoln. They had put up some minimal resistance, but he beat it back in less than a day, installed Colonel Khuzwayo as the military governor, informed the citizens that they would be paying their taxes to the Zulu Empire rather than United Earth, and paid no more attention to it-until the day a message from Lincoln got through to Earth, complaining about the treatment the world was receiving at the hands of its governor, and beseeching Earth to come to their aid.
The government of United Earth shot off a message to Tchaka, demanding that he immediately withdraw his forces and relinquish all claims to Lincoln. There was an unspoken…or else at the end of it.
I was there when the message arrived. Tchaka read it, then handed it to me and told me to read it aloud, which I did.
No one knew quite how to react. No one wanted to yield to threats, but on the other hand, we didn’t have the strength to fight United Earth’s fleet. And of course no one dared voice an opinion for fear it would disagree with the only opinion that counted.
Tchaka waited, idly stroking Nandi, who was curled up on his desk, until he was sure no one was going to say anything.
“We have two choices,” he said at last.
“Yield or fight,” said an aide, nodding his head sagely.
“You are a fool,” said Tchaka, “and I have no use for fools. Get out.”
The aide promptly walked to the door without a word. He didn’t know if he was fired or merely dismissed from the meeting, but he wasn’t sentenced to death, and that was enough for the moment.
“As I was saying,” continued Tchaka when the aide had gone, “we have two choices. We can ignore their message, or we can reply to it. If we ignore it, they will almost certainly send an identical message tomorrow. If we ignore it again, and continue to ignore all future messages, they will eventually send a diplomatic envoy to explain their demands. We, of course, will kill him and appropriate his ship.”
He looked around the room, but no one dared show a reaction until they knew which alternative he favored.
“If, on the other hand, we choose to reply, it will be to tell them that Lincoln is under our protection, and we will take all measures necessary to protect it from United Earth’s territorial aggrandizement.”
“They are still preoccupied with their other military actions,” offered an advisor. “They will send a few token ships.”
“They will send a fleet,” said Tchaka. “This is not a matter of our annexing an unpopulated world. They will not ignore an appeal for help from a former colony.”
“Even if we ignore the message and they send a diplomat and we kill him, they will send a fleet anyway,” said the first aide.
“And if the diplomat is sufficiently popular with the masses, they may feel compelled to send an even larger fleet,” said Tchaka. “I see no purpose in delaying the
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