Mushi would not step up to her taunt. “We should fix a cap on how many Utopians you may indenture to your quests at once. Shall we say—”
“The cap will be the necessity of discretion,” she supplied, “that is to say, as many as I judge it safe to employ without the risk of others sniffing out the alliance between us.”
Digital eyes narrowed. “You wish to shroud our surrender from the other Alphas? That is agreeable to us as well.”
Her smile widened. “I thought it would be. Better for you if the other Six still think the freaks are operating in isolated ignorance, yes?” She waited, searching the bare quarters of Mushi’s face for shadows of an answer. “It’s better for me, too,” she continued. “Not a few of my gentlemen might have heart attacks if they heard I’d snared you, too.”
“MASON already knows.”
Her painted brows arched. “Did Cornel tell you to come here?”
“No. MASON shared some information with us about the…” Mushi hesitates, uncertain how this grim and regal mother will react hearing her Son called by the honorable title of ‘The Alien.’ “About the Porphyrogene, and the various Alphas’ relationships with them. Or rather MASON confirmed some information. It was just therefore that we tell them our decision before we came to you. As for your proposal that we trust you to keep the number of Utopians you indenture to a shroudable level, we accept. Have you other demands?”
She took a long breath. “I want hostages, two of your finest here at all times, and a further dozen I can summon at will.”
A pause for consultation. “We will want to orbit them out in turns, shall we say five-year shifts?”
“Acceptable, but I mean it when I say I want your finest. I want them to be brilliant, competent, with full access to your technology, the ability to translate your U-speak, many other indispensable traits. Have them be authors, artists, or inventors, too, hostages you’ll really value, I know how you hate losing authors and artists. And make them useful. They’re to serve while they’re here, servants and tutors for my Son. It isn’t right that He be tutored in the secrets of only six of seven Hives.”
The vizor could not conceal a smile of pride. “Many of us fit that description, but we will find some hostages with skills likely to prove useful to you, and whose loss will hurt us deeply.”
“I shall have Caesar make them Familiares Candidi.” Her smile swelled. “Caesar can be our neutral arbiter, to verify for me that those you send me are indeed as excellent and valuable to you as you pretend.”
Utopia: “Agreed. In return we request full research access to Micromegas.”
Madame: “I never expected such a graceless people to call Him by so elegant a name. That will be easy; as servants and tutors, you’ll have the fullest access.”
Utopia: “Not just for the hostages, for our researchers. You had us in at the beginning.”
Madame: “Your gynecologists you mean? Nothing but the best for my little Prince.”
Utopia: “In recent years Headmaster Faust has been making efforts to block our access.”
Madame: “Has he indeed? Well, I can’t blame him; such a Specimen has never walked the Earth, nor may again. If I ran Brill’s Institute, I’d never let Him leave, if I could help it, and I certainly wouldn’t let you near Him.”
Utopia: “We will do nothing invasive, but we want to document their development. As you say, Micromegas may be unique in the scientific record.”
Madame: “My great experiment.”
Utopia: “We want to keep records in terms the world can understand, not just the Brillists.”
Madame: “A full chronicle of my Masterpiece. You’ll share everything with me?”
Utopia: “Of course, and publish nothing short-term without your permission. These records are for the future, not the present.”
Madame: “Agreed, then, full access for research, within the limits set by His tutors. You mustn’t tire or trouble the Boy.”
Utopia: “We will be careful. What is your next demand?”
Madame’s swift fingertips tapped at the ebony chair arm, like the patter of a mouse. “That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. You have rather put me on the spot. I’ll want some time to think of more terms.”
“A fortnight?” Mushi offered.
“That would work. Come again in fourteen days. Meanwhile the agreement can stand as it is.”
Utopia: “We have three more terms now.”
Madame: “A most demanding surrender. Go on.”
Utopia: “We require that you forbid Utopians from becoming members of your club, and that you discourage all Utopians from coming here, apart from the researchers and hostages. You will have them, no others.”
Madame: “If you insist. If this surrender proves sincere, I’ve no further need to bring you in, and you tend to make other clients uncomfortable.”
Utopia: “Forbidding and discouraging are different—we expect you to do both.”
Madame: “Well observed. Agreed. What is your second term?”
Utopia: “The Moon is off-limits to you and your creatures. Micromegas may visit if they wish, but not the others. You get the Earth, we get the Moon.”
Madame: “You get the bare rock, I get the fertile one? That’s fine. What about Mars?”
Utopia: “Since Mars won’t be ready for two hundred and fifty years, we can leave that to another generation to negotiate. We will not let you endanger the terraforming—”
Madame: “I wouldn’t want to. That’s acceptable. What’s your third term?”
Utopia: “We want the future.”
She blinked. “That’s not a small demand.”
“True, but you don’t care about it. You want to conquer the world to prove you can. You want your child to eclipse Augustus and Alexander. You want to show your enemies they were fools for throwing away the old weapons of sex and religion. You don’t care about establishing a dynasty. Two generations are as good to you as twenty. We want what comes after.”
Madame frowned. “What does that mean in practical terms?”
“We will not fight you or Micromegas for control of anything for the next hundred and fifty years. You will not interfere with our preparations for events thereafter.”
“You mean Mars?”
“I mean everything. It’s no more than the other Alphas have already granted. This world is content. The other Hives vie one with another for power and population, but a peaceful, happy Earth is utopia enough for them. The next step for humankind is left to us, and in return we share our practical inventions, let the others mass produce our cures and tools, and enjoy our art and stories, for Earth’s benefit. That is the agreement between us and other Hives, implicit but universal. It’s never been threatened before because power has been too diffuse for any few people to be in a position to change such an ingrained attitude. A global monarchy is different. We cannot sit back and let you take control until we are certain you will let our work continue.”
“Your work for the future.” Madame’s shoulders tensed with the strength which makes the she-wolf fiercer when she has cubs to defend. “I have your word that your preparations won’t threaten my empire, or my Son’s?”
“None of them are intended to, but if any do by accident you will have our full resources ready to help you reestablish yourself. You get the present. One hundred and fifty years, a long lifetime. Leave us the future.”
She made them wait, Mushi and the others watching from their distant cities, though whether the prolongation was deliberate or deliberation I cannot guess. “Agreed,” she said at last. “Just two more petty things.”
“What?”
“Hand me your vizor, and address me as Madame.”
“What?”
“Address me as Madame. You haven’t yet. Even Caesar uses the title now, but you’re deliberately avoiding it, as if that keeps you clean. You’re not clean, any of you, not anymore. As for the vizor, I’m tired of being curious, all the rumors about what you keep hidden in there.” She extended an impatient hand. “A good servant would not make me wait.”