She found her seat, hooking her toes onto a protrusion on the floor to prevent herself from floating up and away.
Fretfully, a Lander came closer through the use of a sryrec (glide-aid). There were quite a few Landers at the venue — the Former Chancellor himself was from a landworld, and many among the bureaucrats who were his subordinates lacked the gene for blue hair. That being said, this man was not a citizen of the Empire, either; he was Teen Quihahn, Ambassador of the Hania Federation.
“Your Majesty.” Teen attempted to land near Lamagh. He moved fairly deftly, for a Lander.
However, a nacébriac (chamberlain guard) casually stepped in the way, hand firmly on the grip of a lightgun, to prevent Teen from getting too near.
“We thank you for showing up for Our vassal’s sake, Mr. Ambassador,” said Lamagh tersely.
“It’s no trouble. His Excellency was a friend of mine, and one whom I respected greatly,” he said, his voice dripping with heartache. If he was acting, he was a masterful performer. “I don’t deserve such thanks.”
“Is that so? Then instead of thanks, We offer you Our condolences.”
“I am much obliged.” Teen bowed deeply, causing him to trip a little. “Also, please forgive me, Your Majesty, but could you possibly spare me a little of your time later?”
It seemed this was the real reason he’d come to her. If he wanted someone to talk about his late friend with, there were definitely more suitable conversation partners than her.
“We’re afraid this isn’t the time,” she stated coldly. “We would be quite pleased if you could refrain.”
“I humbly beg Your Majesty’s pardon, but I implore you. It is for the sakes of both our nations,” he said, refusing to back down.
“Those are matters to discuss with the Chancellor.” The former Chancellor’s death may have been sudden, but the appointment of the new one had been conducted without delay. The Üalodh Gaicer Scofarimér (Ambassadorial Agency Director), Brahsh, had been promoted to the role.
The Ambassadorial Agency was the government office in charge of diplomacy, but there was only one nation with which the Empire had relations. As such, they ought by all means to know the Hania Federation in and out.
“Regrettably, it appears His Excellency the Chancellor won’t lend an ear to a petty official.”
“Is that so? For according to the reports We’ve received, the Chancellor has taken quite an amount of time for you.”
“Yes, he has. But time is all he has given me,” he griped.
“There was no guarantee you would get the results you wanted.”
“True, Your Majesty, but...”
“We may be Empress,” she admonished, “but We hesitate to intrude upon the duties of Our retainers. And We would be pleased if you took that into account.”
“I have taken it into account, but I implore Your Majesty all the same.”
The chamberlain guard gave her a look: Do you want me to shoo him off?
Lamagh answered with a gesture of the finger: This is nothing. The gesture was so subtle, Teen likely didn’t notice.
“If you don’t mind conversing on your feet, then We shall allow it this once.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I am delighted to hear that.”
“However, you had best not misconstrue this as your having been granted a new privilege.”
“I understand.” Teen glanced at the chamberlain guard. “Now then, I believe I should give this space to someone better suited than I.”
Lamagh had to hold down the urge to say That would be best. “Very well. Later, after the funeral is over, We shall take you to the ship on Our transporter.”
For a fleeting moment, he was silent. He was probably less than pleased how brief that was. The Ambassadorial Agency was in the Imperial Palace. They could have returned there together on the Gaftnochec, which would give him adequate time to talk to her. Yet the Empress had no intention of extending the Ambassador such special treatment.
If he was as displeased as Lamagh surmised, Teen didn’t show it. “It would be my honor. I am most grateful, Your Majesty.”
Even as the two spoke, more mourners were paying their respects. By the time the number of people by the casket had grown sparse, some voices were ringing out. Those voices weren’t saying anything; they started off as quiet moaning. Lamagh, too, added her voice, laced with grief, to the chorus.
When no one else was leaping toward the casket, the moaning wrapped the hall like an undulating wave. What had started as a handful of disconnected voices had become a lovely harmony.
This was the Bar cicoth (Abh elegy) — a song to send off a fellow Abh in beautiful fashion. Among landworlders, there were many who wished to be interred in the soil of their home planets. Chidoryac Baurgh Sidec Chidh was not one of them. He had chosen to be regarded as an Abh even during the ceremony that would cap off his life, and the Empire obliged him with the greatest esteem. Indeed, this mortuary hall was for national-level funerals, and even among Imperials, not all had their funerals conducted here.
As the elegy reverberated through the hall, a shining black cylinder descended and covered the transparent coffin. This was the shell that would shelter the Former Chancellor’s corpse for several hundreds of millions of years. Once the coffin was completely encased, the cylinder rose up gradually, for loading into the EM cannon. The volume of the Abh elegy rose with it.
The coffin now loaded, the cannon breech closed, and the very next instant, the mortuary hall fired the casket toward the center of the galaxy. Its speed was reduced by the giant mass of the hall, creating a pleasant mock-gravity, which pulled everyone down. Their heels went THUD against the floor, their cue to quiet down the singing. The funeral had concluded.
Lamagh gazed at the closed cannon breech for a while. How many more times must I watch this exact scene play out...?
Then she kicked against the floor and flew toward the exit, where the Hanian Ambassador was waiting.