Reka's Point of View
Oh. The little one was kicking again.
"Settle down, my sweet," she whispered. "Mama's working."
Faithful Galiban had outdone himself. Her butler contrived an apparatus of magic-conductor rails based on the bed frame used to contain arcane outbursts while she and her husband made love. The rails, each an intricate work of art on their own merits, projected a bounded field that allowed her to reinforce a cable beyond the limits of ordinary physics and materials science.
Some forty thousand kilometers of cable, she thought tiredly.
Every day she was at it, pouring more magic into this single project. Her fusion crystals were a paltry effort compared to this. Even so, Reka Regis felt invigorated, more powerful than she'd ever been.
At first, talk of heirs had been for Brad's benefit, fulfilling his desire to be a father and start a family. She was only too happy to indulge her husband in this, but now things were different.
"UNLIMITED POWER!" she cried, manifesting thaumaturgy the likes of which even the false gods of her old world had never seen. From her clawed fingers flowed the stuff of dreams and nightmares, wild, rollicking streams of light and thought, more than enough to carve new realities as she pleased.
Brad laughed at her little joke. Reka wasn't joking, though. The little life within, her precious baby girl, gave her focus, made her strong.
I was always meant to be a mother, she realized. Love suffused her being: love for her husband, love for her daughter, love for the babes yet to come. There were no limits anymore, like something deep, unknown and unlooked-for, sprang up from her very soul.
"Well, how about lunch?" she asked conversationally, the air around her still hot and crackling with static electricity.
Brad smoothed down a wild lock of her hair. "That'd be great," he said. "How long until the space elevator is ready?"
Space elevator, a terribly intriguing concept, designed to hoist great cargoes into the very heavens like some dumbwaiter of the gods. It would be a necessary thing for placing foundries in the void itself. The realms of RECA heeded her for the most part, but for the nonce Reka was only truly mistress of tiny Hungary. To avoid poisoning the very air and water her subjects depended on, her great works would be wrought beyond the firmament.
"The great cable needs only a few more days," she explained, taking Brad's hand as they walked to the dining room together. "As for the foundation anchor, well, it needs to be on the equator, and Galiban is handling negotiations with several countries. Fancy a vacation?"
"Every day with you is a vacation, honey," he flattered her, not that flattery was disagreeable.
"Your Majesties," their butler bowed when they entered the dining room. "It's gulyas today."
Gulyas, or goulash in Brad's native language of English, was an excellent meat soup. He'd need his strength since he would have physical training with Alice later. Cultivating her love in mind and body was a matter much in her thoughts of late.
"Any news?" she asked as they sat down.
"Slovenia, Czechia, Sweden, and Finland are all applying to join RECA," Galiban reported dutifully. "Austria and the new Russian Republic are sending feelers, but not fully committed as yet."
"Yes, that new President Cherdenko of Russia has been oddly enthusiastic," Reka mentioned. "He wishes to go to SPACE!" She imitated his tone exactly.
Brad burst out laughing. The fellow really did sound like that, though. It was only half a joke.
"What's up with Germany?" her husband asked once he calmed down a bit.
"Still obstinate, Your Majesty," Galiban told him. "They reject even our offers of fusion crystals."
Shaking his head, Brad just sighed in exasperation. "It's like they're determined to shoot themselves in the foot. They shut down their conventional nuclear power plants and made themselves dependent on Russian energy. They're also oddly prejudiced against air conditioning. I'm sorry, but if it's hot you should turn on the AC. Excuse me for being an American about this. Cooling is a lot more energy efficient than heating, and now we've got fusion! There's no reason not to have AC!"
Reka smiled at how passionate Brad was about this. In point of fact, air conditioners were a big export for them now, and a growing sector across all the realms of RECA.
She took a bite of the gulyas. Paprika is a fine spice, she decided. The food in the other world was passing bland; Earth cuisine was much better.
"Any progress on the negotiations for my spaceport?" she asked Galiban, who was serving Brad seconds.
"The Kenyans are willing to lease us a large stretch of land outside Mombasa, Your Majesty."
Her husband's tableware stopped clinking. "That's a hell of a strategic location," he said, "right on the Indian Ocean. We can transport our goods to Croatia, take ship, pass through the Suez Canal, and sail right on down to them. What do they want in exchange?"
Reka swallowed before answering. "Fusion crystals, what else? The power plants will have to be built from scratch as well; the modular ones that can be shipped in pieces and assembled on site will serve."
"I guess this was inevitable," Brad said. "Everything from Poland to China is running on your tech, or will be soon. We need to expand: new markets, new investments. Africa is obvious."
"Just so, my love," Reka agreed.
Conversation slowed down until they were finished eating.
"You know," Brad ventured, "depending on how long setting up this spaceport takes, the trip to Kenya could be a babymoon for us."
From long experience, Reka knew to give her full and undivided attention whenever her husband used an unfamiliar word. "Babymoon?"
"A romantic vacation before the baby comes," Brad explained. "We still have a few months, right? Let's enjoy the last time we're two instead of three."
Reka clapped her hands in delight. "What a splendid idea! I know just what to do!"
***
"Why did you bring me on this trip, Reka?" Julie asked flatly, following behind as they disembarked the plane.
As if you don't know?
"It would be so lonely without you, my friend," she said. "The rental house we're staying in is quite large."
"I saw that you brought Alice and Taras too. Why am I the only single one?" Julie complained.
And whose fault is that?
Really, the Queen was not blind!
"Galiban came as well," Reka replied primly before plastering her most queenly smile on her face to greet the cheering crowd.
Her faithful butler could spare at least a single instance of himself to be a companion for Julie. Why, Reka had half a mind to order it.
"You...know about that?" Julie asked hesitantly.
"My dear, everyone knows," she pointed out the obvious. "Have I not been a good friend? I made a point of assigning projects for you two to work on, together, alone."
"I thought I was doing important work, Reka! These are life-saving drugs we're designing!"
"It is important work," she granted, "but having multiple irons in the fire is the very heart of the queenly arts."
Julie just stared back insolently. It was cute.
She'll come around.
A whole round of greetings followed, ambassadors, dignitaries, and commoners alike, all wishing to exchange pleasantries with their royal guest. They'd even arranged a motorcade to give her a tour of the city.
"There are many fine beaches," Reka remarked to Julie as they drove by the coast. "You'd look fetching in that new bathing suit you purchased. Why not invite Galiban on an outing?"
"Reka, he's a robot," her friend said, sounding confused.
And I'm a demon, didn't stop me...
"He is more than capable of appreciating the human form," Reka said. "I should know; I programmed him myself. Galiban has a finely developed sense of aesthetics and your beauty would please him."
"Maybe," Julie said dubiously, looking out at the water.
The port was full of Chinese workers, as planned. Their expertise would be much needed to prepare Mombasa for the kind of capacity her spaceport would require. As a matter of fact, the entire city would likely have to be rebuilt. Repurposing the Vanguards as construction workers might prove necessary.
That night, she and Brad shared a room while Alice and Taras were in the adjoining chamber. Julie was alone, for now.
"It was hell getting our special bed in here, honey," her husband said. "Galiban actually had to cut it into pieces and then we spent all afternoon putting it back together."
Anticipating the difficulty, Reka sent them ahead to their rental house for just that reason. "It's a pity you missed the tour," she said.
"I've seen plenty, and we'll be here for a while."
Even now, Galiban was laying the magic-conductor rails that would be used to prepare the foundation. He'd be working all through the night. It would take weeks for her to stabilize the anchor point with magic. From there, the spool of cable and counterweight could be sent up. But of course, all that magic would require a proper charge...
"Come here, my love," she purred.
***
Michael Ogada, the President of Kenya, accompanied them to visit the proposed site for the spaceport. "This project will mean a lot to my country," he said. "With all the problems we've been having, the people need something to believe it, show them that they have a future."
Problems? Reka didn't know what he was referring to. Perhaps she should have Galiban investigate.
When they arrived at the open field where the space elevator would be anchored her butler was already present, wearing a set of blue coveralls that Brad called a "poopie suit" for some reason.
"Your Majesty, the rails are ready for inspection," he said.
An inspection would be but a formality; Reka knew Galiban's work was impeccable. The rails were perfectly aligned, every magic circle precise and balanced. And yet...and yet...
"Brad, get behind me," she commanded.
"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked fearfully, hastily retreating behind her.
"I'm going to swat down a couple of bothersome flies," Reka said, steel in her voice.
Her senses, heightened by the magic thrumming within, detected the threat at once. With a careless wave of her hand the Queen sent a pulse of electromagnetic radiation towards the approaching drones, frying the onboard electronics. Their fall was only barely visible in the distance.
She rounded on President Ogada, ready to punish him for duplicity, but when she sensed confusion and even fear, Reka's features softened. "Let's see what those were," she said neutrally.
Her guard detail went first to inspect the wreckage. Once it seemed safe, the rest of their party approached.
The drones were mostly intact, shaped like flying wings, a common form factor. "What do you make of this, Galiban?" Reka asked.
Her faithful servant carefully studied the drone, picking it up and turning it over. "It's an American clone of our own Solyom anti-vehicle drone, Your Majesty," he informed her. "Not fully autonomous, a control team is likely still nearby."
"Bring them to me," she ordered. Her guards hastened to obey and went on the hunt.
How DARE the Americans hinder her business! If she wasn't fully charged then Brad might've gotten hurt!
"Queen Reka," President Ogada said, "I hope you know my government had nothing to do with this."
"But you know something," she could sense it. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. President?"
He hesitated, but Reka's silent pressure had never once failed her. Ogada would talk.
"Er, well, things haven't been the most stable," he explained, "not just in Kenya, but the whole region. Every rebel group, every terrorist with an axe to grind, has been able to buy cheap American drones. It's a massive force multiplier for them. One madman, or a small group of them, can do untold damage. Every day there is a new attack."
Reka sighed. "Call Alice," she told Galiban. "Send her my apologies, but her vacation is over. The construction sites will have to be guarded constantly."
She should've known this wasn't going to be easy.