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Recon tube and update her fashion for the occasion. Though she still seemed capable of jumping on a horse and engaging all comers in battle, Rayna dressed in a more refined maroon gown, also heavily gem encrusted. She designed loops, belts, and pouches to hold laser weapons, a blast rifle, and the shashka blade that killed the last Ukrainian who ever betrayed her. She wore a traditional papakha hat, but this one modified to match her husband’s colors. Rayna’s forelock curled out from under the hat. It stayed with her throughout their journey across the Collectorate, the one thing she refused to compromise. Ever.

“A Cossack is not a Cossack without a forelock,” she told James every time he broached the subject.

“I don’t believe there are Cossacks in this universe.”

“One only,” she said. “I know where the other Cossacks are. If I go back to first Earth, there are many traitors I must kill.”

The boys whooped when Spearhead entered Slope, not their first time traveling through a wormhole. Like the other Jewel hybrids, they felt no disorientation. In the seconds before the aperture closed and Spearhead reemerged over the city, James spoke to his sons.

“Remember who you are,” he said. “Your parents rule this world, and someday we will reign everywhere. When our time ends, you will succeed us. We expect you to behave as young men and honor your family. If you do not,” he said, pointing to Rayna’s belly, “your sisters will take your place. Understood?”

They sat upright and spoke in unison.

“Yes, Father. Absolutely, Father.”

“Good. When the door opens, you will follow Brother Ulrich and take your place with the others. Stand tall. Stand proud.”

A moment after Spearhead landed, the bulwark pixelated, and sunlight filled the cabin. Ulrich arrived, dressed in a flamboyant full-length uniform of bright greens, yellows, and magenta, with a brace of gems supporting a high neck collar. He bent his knee in the imperial salute then exited, the boys behind him.

“Have you rehearsed, husband?” Rayna said.

“Do I ever?”

“Fair point. Will you tell them many secrets?”

He winked. “Even some you don’t know, my love.”

“Then I will be sure to pay attention. No?”

They shared a long kiss. He placed a hand over her belly and felt his daughters kicking. They were close. Perhaps three more days.

They stepped off Spearhead arm in arm and beheld the full glory of their improbable achievement. They viewed the city from its highest geographical point. The domes and quadrilateral structures grown out of the planet itself absorbed the light of the midday sun. Birds flew between the buildings and the acacia trees, crying out as if in greeting. To their immediate right, but half a kilometer away, a waterfall kicked up a permanent rainbow.

The landing platform, designated only for “imperial” use, carpeted their feet on a spongy mat of knotted grass decorated with the petals of many different varieties of flowers. They sauntered to the top of a wide avenue of stairs which descended into a grassy bowl designed one day to become an amphitheater. Spread out at the base of that bowl, more than seven hundred immortal children, wearing olive bodysuits and matching berets, took a knee in the imperial salute, each soldier’s blast rifle standing upright like a cane.

“You love this? No?” Rayna whispered.

James remembered the aimless, bitter child he once was.

“It’s good to be me,” he said.

The other Jewel hybrids and their children lined either side of the stairs. The seven adults dressed for a festival, their plumage and brilliant colors designating their status, lest anyone be confused about the social hierarchy. Their nine children – all born since realignment and accelerated with James’s help – stood like monoliths at their parents’ side.

James did not take the first step without acknowledging what should have been: One more adult, three more children. He intended to make sure no one forgot the late Sister Ursula Amondala.

As James and Rayna descended, the hybrids and their children acknowledged the imperial couple. Joakim Cardenas and Cecily Hinton tipped her heads, along with their quadruplets: Jonas, Amalie, Josiah, and Beatrice. Alistair Kwan and Dharma Goranson joined their triplets – Hillin, Dulcea, and Mariana – in a salute. Nya Pasqual and Ulrich Rahm offered their love along with twins Portia and Stanislav. But Bartok Hyam, whose unborn triplets were killed on the landing bay of Lioness along with their mother, showed the most enthusiastic smile. James spoke with him often after Ursula’s death and found Bartok, arguably their best engineer, to be resilient. So much so, in fact, that Bartok impregnated Dharma within a week after she gave birth to triplets. He’d be a father in three months.

Finally, Benjamin and Peter waited quietly for their parents.

James let go of his wife and continued forward. The boys moved to her side. James stopped at a landing three meters above the mass of immortals.

He paused and reflected. If he could accomplish so much with so little, what might he do with whole worlds ready to fight for him?

It’s good to be me.

He opened his hands in a gesture his brother understood. Valentin, the one immortal not required to kneel, faced his army.

“Eyes forward,” he said. “Stand at honor.”

With precision, the seven hundred stood to attention, each resting the rifle across their chest, eyes on the Supreme Admiral.

“Amplify reception,” he ordered.

Seven hundred sets of eyes triple-blinked, tapping into their stream amp to intensity the device’s audio receivers. James did not intend to yell across the bowl. He gave advance orders to Valentin:

“They will hear me as if standing at my feet, and my voice will make them quake. They will remember my words, even if they live for a thousand years.”

“Or,” Valentin joked, “I could provide you with an amplifier.”

James did not appreciate his brother’s humor.

Now, he offered Valentin his most reassuring smile

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