Reka's Point of View
Reka Regis loved it when a plan came together.
Everything about the Rota Crisis, from the Spanish ultimatum to the American response, unfolded exactly according to her design.
She gazed down fondly as the parade passed her by. Now I can give you a medal, my love.
Brad was never in any danger; the hull of the Yamato was magically reinforced. No weapon system the United States possessed could so much as scratch her. That said, crafting a "war hero" narrative for her husband would do much for the prestige of the House of Regis. His victory would go down in history, and would likely be remembered as the official start of her reign, much like the Battle of Hastings in England.
Hopefully these accolades would go a long way towards making her love feel comfortable taking his place at her side. This is what you deserve, Brad, what you've always deserved.
They had to wait to hold the ceremony until after she'd given birth and had some time to recover, but it was so worth it. Brad looked absolutely fetching in his summer dress whites.
There was also a certain amount of global chaos to manage while nobody knew who was in charge in America and rebellion tore China apart. Her ships were actually being deployed more frequently and further afield since the end of the war. With nobody else available to keep the seas safe, why, Reka was only too happy to step in and fill the power vacuum.
Her mother-in-law was watching the children just now. Their newborn son was a tad too energetic for this kind of ceremony and quite insistent about not being separated from his sister. I'll return soon, my babies.
When the music stopped and the sailors of her grand fleet stood in formation on the parade ground, Reka beckoned Brad to come and kneel before her.
"I, Reka of House Regis, Sovereign Queen of Hungary," she announced in a strong, queenly voice, "on behalf of a grateful nation, do present Brad of House Regis, King-Consort of Hungary, Grand Admiral of the Royal Navy, this token. For courage in battle, for swift and decisive action upon the high seas, for sailing fearlessly to the aid of our allies against a more numerous and experienced enemy, I do hereby award you the Order of Saint Stephen."
She pinned the medal on his left breast and bid him rise. All Budapest raised their voices as one to praise him with great praise!
From there, Reka presented lesser medals to some others: the fire controlman whose Dragonlance shot down the most enemy planes, the skipper of the frigate that sunk the American submarine, and so forth.
When the parade and awards ceremony concluded she sent Brad ahead to a party for all the officers and their partners. "I'll be there soon, my love, but Galiban reports that there is a matter of international relations that will not wait."
"The whole world never stops wanting a piece of you," he said ruefully.
"Too true, husband," she agreed. "BJ Spence wants a word."
That put a sour look on Brad's face. "Don't let him bullshit you too much, Reka. That guy will tell you whatever he thinks you want to hear while believing none of it, no principles at all."
If Brad disliked him then he must be loathsome indeed! "I'll remember that, my love. Save me a piece of cake, would you?"
Her husband looked every inch the conquering hero as she left him to be patted on the back by an endless train of well-wishers. It would be good for him to be the center of attention for a while.
Ducking out, she interfaced with Galiban through her glasses. "Prepare a secure terminal," Reka instructed.
"As my Queen commands," he obeyed. It was good to always have her butler on call like this. Why hadn't she thought of a wearable method before?
Walking with purpose, she made her way to a secluded wing of Buda Castle. The guard let her in without a word.
Reka settled into her chair, assumed a royal bearing, and turned on the monitor. "Mr. President," she greeted.
He didn't look like much, if she was honest, with the puffy face of a man who'd struggled with a weight problem his whole life and wearing an ill-fitting suit. Reka had forgotten what fat people looked like. It was a solved problem in her realm.
"Your Majesty," he inclined his head diplomatically.
Cunning eyes, though, Brad was right to warn me.
"I trust your ascension to the position of chief magistrate was smooth," she began.
Spence blinked in surprise at her wording but recovered quickly. "It was a chaotic few weeks. The loss of the carriers caused widespread panic that made our bad economic situation even worse."
Yes, Galiban had briefed her about a stock market crash and accelerating inflation. She had them.
"Have the people accepted the 'heart attack' story?" she asked. It was best to keep somebody like Spence off balance.
His face hardened. "Blimp was offered peaceful resignation, but stubbornly clung to power. He had to be removed."
Reka didn't necessarily disagree, though the fool had proven useful enough, quite easy to provoke into military overreach in any case.
"I can't imagine that was good for your economy," she said sympathetically.
"Indeed not," Spence said. "The death of a sitting president is shocking to most people. Panic increased. Many companies can't make payroll and are on the brink of bankruptcy. People are going hungry; I'm asking for your consideration here, Your Majesty."
Feeding her some sob story, who did he think she was? "All you have to do is sign the treaty and world trade with the United States will resume," Reka stated her position.
"I can't do that!" Spence was getting emotional. "I can't be the president to sign away our sovereignty like this. Your terms are unfair."
Unfair, he said. Unfair? "Your government arrested me on trumped-up charges. Federal agents attempted to murder my husband!" she snarled. "You failed to adhere to your treaty obligations and have been sponsoring global terrorism for years! I don't care about fair! A new world system is being created. Is the United States in or out?"
Spence sighed. "It's an election year, Your Majesty. I don't want to be remembered by history as the president who held office for six months and signed away the country. Can't we make a deal? This is about legacy."
"As long as you ratify the treaty with its original wording, you will receive all the financial aid necessary to rescue your crashing economy. Couch the act in whatever face-saving terminology you prefer, just remember who's really in charge now."
"It might not be up to me, the Senate has a say in ratifying treaties," he dissembled. "They might not listen."
"Make them listen," Reka commanded. "I control the seas. I control the skies. I control space! World trade dances to my tune. If you wish to participate then it will be under my rules. I'm sure those corporations you care so much about can have a talk with any recalcitrant senators. Why, my husband hasn't had a WacArnold's burger in over a year. They can come back to Europe, if only you sign!"
Spence's eyes were insolent but he dared not disagree. Reka knew she'd won. "You drive a hard bargain, Your Majesty."
"I shall eagerly await your acceptance of my terms, Mr. President, but not too long. Farewell."
She shut off the monitor.
Reka melted into her chair. Talking with that rogue was exhausting. "Please tell me I'll not have to do this again with the Chinese," she begged Galiban.
"The Taiping Rebels have formed a provisional government, though they will need additional shipments of arms to fully secure the country," her butler informed her.
Let this be the last war, she prayed. "Give them whatever they want; just wrap it up quickly. I would rather not be the cause of a famine in my moment of triumph."
"Noted, Your Majesty," Galiban replied. "There is another matter. The provisional government wishes to make worshiping you the state religion."
Ugh, this was the dark side of her strategy. Combining the compulsion charm in her mind-acceleration pills (which Chinese students no doubt overdosed on) with social media induced psychosis facilitated by Galiban infiltrating their apps, had created tens of millions of unstable zealots.
"Absolutely not." Reka had no use for a cult on that scale. "Tell them I want something more normal. All I require is a responsible government with a prime minister who can implement my decrees."
Once the planet was properly secured and people got used to her rule she would need to deprogram these people somehow.
She clapped her hands. "Well, that's done. Now I can stop being Queen for a bit and just be the Admiral's wife. Are the children behaving?"
"His Majesty's mother is chasing the prince around with a net," Galiban informed her. "She hasn't caught him yet."
Yes, that sounded like her son. Honestly, the boy was wild! Was Kat flying around as a one month old? Reka couldn't recall.
"Let's try to keep the explosions to a minimum, Galiban. I'll be joining my husband at the afterparty for naval officers."
She straightened her outfit and went down to join Brad in the banquet hall. It was a pretty informal affair, mingling with the other officer's wives and munching on cake. After all the recent excitement light socializing was a welcome diversion.
It couldn't last, of course. Desperate texts from Brad's mother summoned them back home.
Sharp peels of baby laughter were audible as they returned to the royal apartments.
"Help me get him down, Kat!" Mother cried desperately.
"I'm trying, grandma, but he's fast!"
Her son was skimming along the ceiling and deftly dodging his sister's attempts to corner him. The chandelier shook dangerously as they blew past it.
"Wenli Regis, come down!" she ordered sternly.
Her baby looked like he might disobey, but thought better of it. The boy floated into her arms and she summoned a magic rattle for him to grip. He needed to be drained and soon.
Once the rattle stopped glowing, Wenli's eyes grew heavy and he drifted off. "Mother, you look well," Reka said honestly.
She really did. Brad's mother had lost weight, and with the new regeneration treatments she looked twenty years younger, maybe thirty.
"I can't believe you named my grandson 'Wenli'," she complained.
"Yang Wenli is the greatest strategist ever!" Brad said emphatically.
It was a queer name to her ears, but Reka had named their first child, so it was only fair. "We hope our son grows as circumspect as his namesake in the fullness of time," she offered diplomatically.
"Little hellraiser," Mother muttered churlishly. "But Katalin has been very good, haven't you Kat?"
"Yes, grandma!" Kat chirped happily, and flew into Mother's arms.
"So smart," Mother said. "Two years old and she can already read. Is that the, you know, magic?" she asked softly.
"Perhaps," Reka said noncommittally. Honestly? She didn't know. Her children weren't fully human and didn't develop at the same rate as human children. Their magic was also of an unfamiliar nature.
"Wenli is smart too!" Kat argued. "He learned the rules of tag very fast! He's good, but he's just a baby," said the baby.
Reka smiled at how close her children were. Katalin was taking being a big sister very seriously.
"So Mom, how are you liking your new rooms in the palace?" Brad asked.
"Needed a babysitter, huh?" Mother said accusingly.
Her husband looked uncomfortable. "Eh, well..."
"Save it son," Mother said. "You married a magical Queen and gave me two magical grandchildren. If you're worried about my approval, don't be."
"We could use a babysitter from time to time!" Reka said brightly. "Though you might need a bigger net to catch Wenli."
"Much bigger," Mother said seriously. "These are really high ceilings and the boy has no fear. You can make sure he won't fall, right Kat?"
"Right, Grandma!" the princess agreed. "My brother won't fall, though. He's just playful. Wenli might crash but he would never fall!"
Brad started laughing and soon they were all joining him. Wenli stirred in her arms, but did not wake.
After a bit more chatting with Mother they decided to retire for the evening. Tomorrow would be a big day.
***
Leaders of nearly one hundred nations attended her conference. Reka was the greatest power on Earth. The time had come to make it official.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome," she greeted them all. "We have entered a new era. The human race enjoys abundant clean energy thanks to nuclear fusion. Artificial intelligence has automated many jobs out of existence and will only improve over time. Asteroid mining, once the domain of science fiction, will soon be supplying the majority of our industrial metals. Obesity, diabetes, heart disease, and cancer have all but been eliminated in the lands under the sway of RECA.
"This is all to the good, but one question remains: who will benefit from these technological advances? Will it be only the chosen few, those with the money to pay for them? I say no. These technologies are too revolutionary, too transformative, to be limited to the narrow scope of private profit. Indeed, the concept of "profit" itself may become meaningless in the coming years. It is for this purpose that I gather you here today.
"The Hungarian sovereign wealth fund has grown too large for my small country. Therefore, it is to be renamed the Earth Development Trust, or EDT. Its purpose? To ensure that humanity as a whole benefits from my technology. Every land and every people will know peace and prosperity and equal access. No one will be left behind.
"You may wonder, what do I ask in exchange for this bounty? Only your cooperation. RECA will also change. You, the first signatories of the Royal Earth Charter Association, will retain your sovereignty, with certain caveats. As the creator and controller of my technology, I, Queen Reka of House Regis, retain final say in its use. Every realm of RECA shall be under my protection, and no nation shall make war without my leave. The era of squabbling over petty interests is at an end. It is time to unite as one, and follow me into a new age!"
One by one, representatives of each nation in attendance came forward to sign the RECA treaty, the framework for her regime of global governance. A few isolated corners of the world might resist her for a time, but no matter. Reka Regis had what she came for.
With her crown secure, the Queen of Earth went home to spend time with her family.