Lastly, Ari took her friends to Ras Almal in the capital city of Omaira. She brought them to the huge amphitheater where the seven founding families of Ketch once met to discuss Mercer, their planet, their galaxy.
“I made this,” Ari said, slightly bashful as she pointed to the center of the large room. “Well, I had a lot of time on my hands the last time I was here.”
Merlin’s eyes nearly popped. “It’s a…”
“Round table,” Ari said, brushing sand off the stones she’d cut and hauled into place with her own hands, one brick at a time. “When I first heard about King Arthur, I thought this bit was the shining jewel of hypocrisy. How could there be one true king who then gave everyone an equal voice? Then, when I was here with so much time on my hands to think things through, I realized that humanity will never give people an equal voice. It’s not in our nature. That’s why King Arthur had to decree it.”
Merlin’s eyes stung with unbottled tears.
“Are you all right, old man?” Ari asked, smiling and slapping his back.
Merlin started up a low chant of sorts. “Find Ari. Train Ari. Nudge her onto the nearest throne. Defeat the greatest evil in the universe. Unite all of humankind. I’ve never been this close to completing it.”
“Will you stop aging backward if we sort this out?”
He opened his mouth, but then shut it. “I have absolutely no idea,” Merlin said. Ari wondered if he was waiting for some kind of great clicking, a way of knowing that this was over. “I’ve always believed that when this was through, I would stop aging backward. Recently I’ve learned that there might be… other factors at play.”
Ari clapped his shoulder. “Whatever stands in the way, we will meet it and surmount it. I promise.” She was still feeling slightly unbeatable after taking down Mercer.
Her friends had made their way around the entire table, and they came back to her. Ari cleared her throat to tell them the good news. “I was dreaming we’d get to use this one day. And now, we will.” She looked around at her friends, taking them in one at a time. “I put out a call that anyone who wants to help create a new future should send delegates to Ketch. One hundred and forty-seven planets have responded favorably, including Troy. They are headed here to sit at this table right now. To discuss what kind of universe we want to live in. To figure out what we do with the remains of Mercer.”
“Even Pluto?” Lam asked. “Are our parents coming?”
“They sent word that you would be the ideal representative,” Ari said. “Do you accept?”
Lamarack winked, silvery-mauve eyeshadow glittering. “Of course.”
Ari turned to Gwen next. “I’m assuming you’ll speak for Lionel, I will speak for Ketch, and Merlin?”
Merlin had been staring across the table disbelievingly. “What?”
“Forget it. He’s lost in an epic shag flashback,” Lam joked.
Val looped his arm around Merlin’s waist. “Don’t tease my boyfriend.”
Merlin’s hand rested on Val’s arm as he smiled at Ari. “What is it you need me to do? I could be court mage. I rather enjoyed that position on Lionel… and Camelot, once upon a time.”
Ari gripped his shoulder. “I’d like you to be the representative from Old Earth.”
Merlin burst into tears, and that, too, was its own strange joy.
“Eighteen days,” a harsh voice barked across the round table. “That’s how long my planet can survive without Mercer supplies. You keep saying that you don’t intend to cost people their lives, but a Mercer boycott is not possible. Not without great losses.”
Ari leaned forward, elbows on the stone table, exhausted. They had been at this for hours with such little progress. Her eyes twitched first to Gwen, who shook her head lightly, and then to Merlin who was bouncing in his seat as if he was about to send fireworks at the next person who declared that a universe without the Mercer Company was not possible.
“No one is saying we don’t need suppliers connecting a variety of worlds, but do we need an all-encompassing, tyrannical company with monopolistic power?” Lamarack countered, looking rather impressive in their leather armor. “This summit is about finding new laws, regulations that will keep companies like Mercer from taking over the universe—literally.”
Ari had found a strong voice in Lamarack. They were equal parts well-spoken and unfettered with the rebellious reputation that held Gwen back.
The same naysaying voice, a hard-edged, elderly woman from Tanaka, spoke again. “That is all fine and good, but will these things be resolved before the month is out? Before my people are dying of starvation? I think not. We need to talk about working with Mercer in the meantime. Bridging the gap, installing immediate regulations that—”
The woman was cut off by the sudden appearance of a matronly, beautiful figure. Her image was projected in the middle of the table from the speaker they had been using to allow everyone to hear. The woman wore an ivory dress that rolled over soft curves, and a smile that was just as kind and inviting.
“Greetings, wounded universe. My name is Terra, and I’m speaking to you on behalf of the Mercer Family.”
“Mercer!” several dozen people shouted, a rejection that emboldened Ari to stand and face the projection with Excalibur in hand.
“What do you want?”
Terra continued to smile, so grandmotherly that Ari winced at her sincerity. “To deliver an olive branch. The Mercer Company is no more. We are rebranding, reassessing our role in the universe and our position as a supplier of great needs. We are the Mercer Family. We are here to support you, care for you.” She spread her soft arms and glanced around the room.
“You offer this aid by hacking into our private meeting,” Gwen said, raising herself beside Ari. “That sounds exactly like the old Mercer.”
“We apologize, but we did not feel that we could appear in person, what with your rather murderous leadership.”
Ari slammed Excalibur down on the table. “I executed the man who ordered and oversaw the genocide of my people. And I would do it again.”
“We understand your actions in the arena, Ara Azar. The former Administrator had lost his way and become power hungry. We all know the constant threat of that, don’t we?” Her eyes fell on Ari in a chastising way that was entirely too effective.
Gwen gripped Ari’s arm, a warning.
“We did not come here to argue fault, but to look to the future. We are aware that several planets have fallen under intense hardship since the destruction of the starship Heritage and the cessation of trade across the Mercer-connected galaxies. We would like to offer food and medical supplies at no charge, to all of you. Furthermore, we will agree to any regulations that this summit feels necessary to enact.”
Terra fell silent, and Merlin stood. Everyone looked at him.
“That is too generous. What is your price?” he asked. “I have lived long enough to know that no empire eats crow without getting something in return.”
The matronly smile returned. “We ask only for you to return what you’ve taken from us.”
“Taken?” Ari nearly yelled. “What have we taken from you? Other than that monstrosity of a starship.”
“The last Administrator, as wrong as he was, was important to us. You will provide us with the next Administrator.” Her hand waved toward Gwen.
“I would rather die than work for Mercer,” Gwen said, chilling the whole amphitheater.
“You would rather see to the near-instant deaths of fifty planets’ worth of people?” the woman asked, and for the first time, her voice had a no-nonsense edge. “No matter,” she said, softening. “We could not use you. Administrators require a rather special upbringing. We need a child. A baby is even better.”
Ari’s body went numb.
“The heir to the Lionelian and Ketchan throne. Give us the baby, the embryo. We will grow it with such care that it will be stronger, healthier, and smarter than it could ever be in your malnourished womb.”