Princess Grace of Earth Read online

  Princess Grace of Earth

  The Zerot Infestation

  A K Lambert

  Published by A K Lambert, 2017.

  Princess Grace of Earth

  The Zerot Infestation

  A K Lambert

  Series Editor - Ellen C Campbell

  To my long suffering kids!

  Contents

  Prologue

  I. The Adolescent Years

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  II. The Changing Face Of The War

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  III. Earth's End Game

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Postscript

  Prologue

  The Japanese Giant Hornet.

  It just takes one scout to find a colony of European honeybees, mark it with a pheromone, and invite thirty of his buddies over.

  These killing machines are capable of destroying a colony of thirty thousand bees in the space of a few hours.

  Then, they take the spoils. They gorge themselves on the honey and carry off the larvae to feed their young.

  (National Geographic)

  Premier Gor sat in his circular office staring up and frowning at the portrait of himself hanging over the grand stone fireplace. He would move it soon, but not just yet. He activated the virtual screen again and rechecked his notes. All in order, just as they had been a short while earlier. He deactivated it, looked at the portrait and sneered.

  He had assumed this political position two years ago and enjoyed the trappings of the top job. But today, he was nervous and apprehensive.

  She was coming.

  Everything was in order, though. She would find little to criticise. As usual, Gor had carried out his job expertly. She had known his worth from their early academy days—the master planner.

  Within four years he had embedded himself into this society and assumed the highest political position. Phase one was now complete. The rest of his Cadre was about to arrive, signalling the commencement of phase two.

  Things were about to get interesting.

  This new world presented an excellent challenge—technologically advanced and strong-willed; they would not be easy to break. All of the dynasties would wager grandly in this high stakes game.

  She would be pleased.

  The receptor plate on the floor to his left started to shimmer. She was coming. An opaque globe formed over the plate then evaporated to reveal her standing there—tall and with her usual imperious look.

  Gor stood up. ‘Madame.’

  ‘Carffekk..’ she paused briefly. ‘Premier Gor. Happy to see you again, though your appearance is somewhat fragile looking,’

  ‘This is a copy of an elderly specimen. I assure you, I am very much here.’ They both grinned.

  ‘Good. Food and drink first, then show me your plans. I’m eager to get underway. And, after that journey, I need satiation.’ Again, she grinned, baring sharp, needle teeth. ‘And what will be my role in this world’s downfall?’

  ‘I have two powerful women in leading positions for your consideration. Both are close. So once you’ve chosen, we can invite her over.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  Part I

  The Adolescent Years

  Chapter 1

  The Ventar Designation

  Preenasette - Bala Verceti - 2000

  * * *

  Princess Tauriar was attending her very first Decennial Ceremony. But unlike the event of ten years ago where she was the centre of the nation’s attention, this was the turn of the Ventar designation.

  Within the majestic grounds of the Bala Verceti Palace of Ancestors, the ceremony was underway to replace the outgoing High Council Elder and introduce a new baby boy as Prince. There on the rosewood stage, surrounded by the gently fluttering flags of the nine provinces, the young princess proudly sat next to the three older Royal Trainees.

  Tauriar wore her new white robe, made especially for this occasion, with the Vercetian Life Vine delicately embroidered on it, a green serpent weaving its way around her, with explosions of red and yellow flowers.

  On the stage next to her sat Prince Camcietti. Ten years her elder, the prince was now a young adult. He turned to her and smiled, and then pulled a face, eyes crossed and lips puffed out. Tauriar tried to keep her composure—this was, after all, the most important event she had ever attended—but the young prince was relentless in his quest to make her laugh. She soon succumbed, lifting her hands to her face to hide her giggling, her powder blue cheeks turning dark sapphire.

  They both looked up to see a hover-cam close in on the prince’s antics. The shock on Tauriar’s face at being caught on camera in such a manner, and on such an occasion, was evident. The prince, however, just sat back, crossed his legs and gave the enthralled watching millions a broad smile and a cheeky wave. The two older Royal Trainees to his left looked on with resigned exasperation, but their faces couldn’t hide the fondness they felt for this roguish young man.

  The little princess regained her composure and looked past the three elder Royals to Bakta, who looked anxious to get the ceremony started. He sat on his ornately jewelled throne, positioned centrally on the stage, his hands caressing the golden shape of the High Council Coat of Arms on his Overseer Amulet. She saw Bakta most days and was sure he was looking much older lately. He introduced the four High Councillors, the Vercetian heads of state. These were the rulers of Bala Verceti. One day, thought Tauriar nervously, she would be seated there.

  The audience was soaking up the sun on this perfect day, and she tried her best not to worry about how many would be watching from the country’s provinces.

  Finally, all was quiet. Bakta the Overseer stood up and stepped forward to welcome everyone.

  * * *

  ‘The four Great Houses: Camcietti, Tauriar, Ventar and Domeriette welcome you all to the 29th Decennial Ceremony—The Ventar Designation.

  Goodbye to our Ventar Elder.

  Congratulations to our new Ventar Councillor.

  Greetings to our new Ventar Prince.

  The Council balance is reaffirmed today.’

  Princess Tauriar silently recited the traditional opening to the Decennial Ceremony. She had learnt and now understood how it all worked, and her place in the ruling dynasty. Her Life Team had looked after her and trained her for ten years and would do so for another thirty. She would then join the High Council and serve for forty years, the last ten of which she would be Council Elder—the most powerful Vercetian in the land. This system of governing ensured the viewpoint of all age ranges and genders were equally represented in all decision making. Today the Council Elder would retire and a new p
rince selected. She would cease to be the youngest Royal.

  The ceremony slowly proceeded throughout the morning. Tauriar’s mind kept wandering. Interesting as this was, her thoughts kept returning to Krankel, the wolf puppy she had gotten the day before. A gift from the Life Team to celebrate this occasion. She wanted to pick him up and cuddle him.

  She snapped out of it when it was Prince Camcietti’s turn to move on. She giggled to herself at the thought of him tripping over as he walked the three steps to the seat on his right. But he stood up and bowed to the audience and strolled to Bakta’s throne, grandly sitting down and giving the crowd his trademark smile and wave. The auditorium erupted in laughter yet again at the prince’s antics. Bakta, with a rare genuine smile on his face, quickly shuffled him back to his correct seat.

  At last, it was Princess Tauriar’s turn.

  This simple act of standing up, bowing, walking three steps and sitting down again had been practised in her mind a thousand times.

  Bakta the Overseer called to her, ‘Princess of the great house of Tauriar, stand before your nation and celebrate your onward journey.’

  Tauriar froze. Her brain and legs felt in complete disharmony. A million eyes pinned her to her seat. She could feel her world falling apart.

  Then Prince Camcietti appeared in front of her. He reached for her tiny hand and with his thumb and forefinger gently raised it, drawing her into a standing position. He then bowed to her, so deeply his forehead was on the rosewood floor, and remained there still as the night.

  Princess Tauriar looked forward, bowed deeply to the assembly, took three steps and sat gracefully down in the next chair. The crowd clapped and cheered the youngest princess.

  Bakta approached and stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. He waited for quiet.

  ‘And now the part of the ceremony that I know many of you have been waiting for—the selection of the new Prince to occupy the vacant seat. It seems like only yesterday we named this lovely young lady,’ Again, Tauriar’s pale complexion darkened. ‘And here we are today celebrating her first step towards our ruling council,’ He moved back to the centre of the stage and the ceremony continued.

  Tauriar smiled as ghostly images appeared around her on the stage, proud parents with beautiful baby boys from around the provinces. The holograms zoomed in so only the babies’ heads were in view. She reached out to touch the one closest to her, who was showing his frustration at being awakened at what must have been nighttime in his province.

  Bakta walked to the front of the stage to make the final decision known.

  ‘And, the new Prince Ventar will be... Kalter of family Camerra!’

  The holograph of the happy parents glided to the front of the stage with the same frustrated baby who now, as though working to a script, ceased crying and started smiling.

  Everyone was on their feet now, cheering for the new prince, as was Tauriar, though this time she had managed to stand up on her own.

  With the ceremony over the Princess sat back in her seat and watched as everyone started mingling—a mixture of small talk, laughing and hugging. She was perceptive for a ten-year-old, though, and could see cracks in the glossy veneer the leaders of her country were trying to maintain.

  Everything was far from okay.

  Bala Verceti was at war with Trun Rizontella.

  The two nations of Preenasette had been for hundreds of years—Princess Tauriar knew this. Her Life Team had taught her the history of it. The shameful period in Bala Verceti’s history. The creation of the High Council, all those years ago by the very first Elder, Lord Camcietti, so that those mistakes could never happen again.

  But over the last year, the war had turned ugly. Tauriar had overheard her elders referring to it. Even Bakta had said the Royals were in danger.

  But today wasn’t the day to worry about such things. And, what could she, a ten-year-old girl, do anyway? She had a puppy that needed her attention. Leave the war to the adults.

  She turned to see Prince Camcietti pulling another face at her. She laughed loudly and pulled a face back at him.

  Amdorma couldn’t believe it. They had chosen. The result would be the biggest coup in the KBS’s three hundred year history. And it was all down to him.

  Too old am I? Should be put out to pasture? I’ll show you all at tonight’s meeting, and this news will prove that I, Amdorma, am still an important, influential officer.

  He was too excited to go straight home. He went to the Feathered Fig and ordered a dark ale, drinking it much too quickly. He ordered another.

  Two hours later and he was bragging about the great, mysterious news he had had today. Annoying everyone around him.

  He sat down, feeling dizzy.

  Oh dear, too much ale.

  He was feeling a burning in his chest, tightness. Then pains in his arms, neck and jaw. The realisation something was wrong came over him.

  But the feeling didn’t last long. The old man rested his head in his arms on the table, took one more short breath, and was gone.

  It was a while before the folk around him noticed something was amiss.

  Poor old Amdorma was dead. And, for the time being at least, his great news would go to his grave with him.

  Chapter 2

  The Council Decision

  Preenasette - Bala Verceti - 2000

  * * *

  The Bala Verceti High Council sat facing each other around the circular graphite table in the Pre-eminent Chamber, high up in the south tower of the Palace of Ancestors. The old cream marble walls and floors tried hard to give this forbidding room a simple and unpretentious feel, but didn’t quite make it. Not even the fantastic view through the curved glass recess in the southern wall could get their interest today. The view of the town sweeping down to the sea, with the Needles stretching out to the horizon, would need to wait for another day.

  ‘We must decide, council. The Trun now hold the upper hand. The threats we are facing are tangible and many. We can delay no longer.’

  Bakta sat back, fingers caressing his Overseer’s amulet. His gaze moved around the table, fixing slowly on each of the other six assembled council members. To his right, the Military High Commander, Kam Major and to his left Cascan Ofier, first minister of the Civil Council. Opposite him the four High Councillors, decision makers of Bala Verceti.

  Bakta turned to Kam Major, giving her the floor.

  ‘The Overseer is correct.’ The weight of the decision in front of them was draining her; the proud officer being chosen as High Commander of the Vercetian military seemed a distant memory. ‘My forces are stretched to the limit. The status quo we have been maintaining for decades has shifted violently against us. We are in grave danger of losing this war. They are blatantly targeting our Royals. They want to destabilise our system of government. Two attempts in the last month alone thwarted, but we were lucky, incredibly lucky with the attempt on the young prince. The explosive device was found by pure chance. We now suspect the Trun of having infiltrated nearly every aspect of our society. We don’t know who to trust. I cannot, hand on heart, guarantee their safety in the current climate.’ She dropped her head even further.

  ‘This is not your fault, Kam Major.’ Bakta placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘We, collectively, are responsible for the plight Bala Verceti now faces. Our enemy has shown an unprecedented level of ingenuity and brutality over the last couple of years.’ He moved his hand away, and turned to his left, looking at Cascan Ofier.

  ‘The Civil Council also believes the time has come for action, though I think it is a disastrous idea to consider sending the Royals off world.’ The politician’s superior tone grated on Bakta as usual. ‘Many think talk of this is premature, but the vote to ratify this decision—should the High Council decide this path of action—has been carried.’

  The room went silent for a moment. Kam Major looked back at Bakta, her moment of weakness now ebbing away and she forced a grim smile. Bakta’s attention
turned to the four High Councillors opposite. Bana Domeriette, the eldest and newly elected leader of the council. Bana Camiette, now only one step away from wearing the white robe and assuming leadership. Bana Tauriar. And Bana Ventar, the youngest councillor and only a few days into the job.

  The four Councillors sat with hands clasped and eyes closed, readying to debate telepathically. Only Bakta joined the group, capturing their thought packages for public record.

  * * *

  “Surely, we cannot consider letting the Royal Trainees out of our influence? Mine is only a baby, chosen only three days ago,” thought Ventar.

  “You still have much to learn. The Royals won’t be completely out of our minds sight.” Tauriar replied.

  “Correct. Our focus here must concentrate on what the possible outcomes are likely to be during the next decade and the safety of our Royals. The Trun spy network in our country is more entrenched and active than we had ever thought. The Royals do not yet possess the skills we have. They must be protected and allowed to develop and learn in readiness for the High Council,” Domeriette added.