Linde pushed herself away from her disk, shutting down her computer for the evening. She had been reviewing religious documents. As Queen of Saxony, she was head of the Saxon Lutheran Church. Occasionally the bishops sent her things to review and sign off on. She had gone to the trouble of learning Latin, Hebrew and koine Greek so she could understand the source documents. On the wall of her sleeping chamber she had two sketches. Remote viewers had gone back and made sketches of the Nativity and the Crucifixion. They were blocked from the Resurrection. Apparently some things were meant to be taken on faith. She also had been reviewing some political papers. When they reached their age of majority the immediate members of the royal family were all given seats in the German Bundestag and were expected to take part in political debates. She was a Christian Democrat herself. She had served twice as caretaker Chancellor.
Taking advantage of the situation, one of the ship’s cats, Furball jumped into her lap and purred loudly as she hugged him close. He deigned to hang out around her quarters because Lily spoiled him with treats,
She felt in need of a late night smack. She changed into sweats and headed down to the ship’s beer hall as she didn’t have the heart to wake Lily.. It was busy since it was after hours. She went over to the generous breakfast buffet and loaded up with scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, toast and orange juice and milk. She was lucky enough to have a fast metabolism and plus worked out three times a week under 1.5g. After sitting down she pulled out a worn paperback out o the pocket of her sweats. A C. S. Forester Hornblower novel. Finishing up her meal she still felt restless, and moved to the grand piano and sat down on the bench. She softly played some Bach. She felt that she could have made a very good living as a concert pianist if she hadn’t gone into the Navy. She knew she was a music snob, She didn’t consider anything composed after 1850 to be real music. As she finished up one composition she felt a slight vibration on her wrist. She held her wrist comp up to her lips.
It was Julie, the head of her component of remote viewers, “Admiral, they’ve jumped”.
Linde didn’t need to ask who ‘they’ were. “Spread the word. Execute Runaway”.
The fleet wasn’t really going to run. Most of it would hide at the bottom of Regina’s oceans. Some out in the asteroid belts. Some out in the Oort Cloud. Not in gas giant atmospheres. The methane-breathers had made it violently clear that they did not to be tangled in oxygen-breathers conflicts. She suddenly felt tired and headed back to her quarters ti try and get some sleep.
She woke up a few hours later. The cover to the porthole in her bedroom was open and the area was illuminated by Bismarck’s floodlights. She could see Furball’s tail lashing in frustration at all the fish he couldn’t get at. In the near distance she could see the floodlights of other ships.