“I do tend to agree wis zee young lady,” Von Ludendorf said. The wine glass in front of him was drained, although where the wine went remained an enigma. “I might be just lowly spießbürgerlich, but I must protect my investment. Von Schmidt, can zis sings penetrate your little dark room here?”

“By emitting concentrated solar radiation capable of melting almost any material found on this planetoid, they will reach us in about four hours. Because our source of light is four geocentric satellites that magnify and reflect sunlight, we do not have the safety of the night to look forward to.”

“Why not detonate nuclear device and eradicate palace and surrounding forest? We are deep enough to be unharmed by explosion and radiation,” Ivanov suggested as he poured himself another helping of wine. “We will be buried under rubble, but eventually rescue ships will arrive.”

Von Ludendorf’s rescue ships, the Princess thought. Ivanov may have had a mind for war, but intrigue wasn’t his forte. However, this would be in her benefit since, as the Swiss robber baron had stated, he had to protect his investment. Leaving anyone else alive, however, would be an unjustifiable expense.

“Ivan, my dear,” Jean smiled, “had I been English, I would have commented that your suggestion was ‘very interesting.’”

Ivanov gave Jean a sour look, swallowed his wine in one gulp, and poured himself some more, distributing it equally between his glass and the table.

“The passage is narrow,” Tanaka suggested. “If we open it now, we will create a corridor of death for the enemy. Their numbers will amount to nothing in the face of superior skill and discipline. The vermin will be massacred.”

The Princess liked this idea, especially since if it didn’t work it would always be possible to lock the gate, with Tanaka on the other side. Von Schmidt strangled her hopes in the cradle, however. “Even if the chornoi stood in a queue and patiently waited for you to slice them, your arms would dangle powerlessly by your sides long before you could destroy even half of them.”

“If we destroyed the satellites, would it not force the chornoi to retreat to the light hemisphere of the planetoid?” the Princess asked. “I doubt their natural batteries can last for more than half an hour or so.”

“It certainly would,” Von Schmidt muttered through clenched teeth. For a German, destroying a masterwork of engineering was an act of inconceivable and unforgivable barbarity. Of course, with an ego such as Von Schmidt’s, the destruction of the self was an even greater tragedy.

“Did you not boast of having the finest assortment of nuclear weapons outside of Terra?” the Princess pressed on, enjoying the German’s growing discomfort as much as she did her newfound belief that she might survive the ordeal after all.

“Most shortsightedly, I did,” Von Schmidt admitted.

“Well then, it seems that repelling the invasion is simply a matter of launching the missiles at the proper targets, is it not? Von Schmidt, if you’d be so kind as to initiate the launch sequence, we could see this conflict resolved with minimal loss of life for both species before dessert.”

“My dear princess, while I will not deny that your plan is sound, I will point out that allowing radio access to my weapons would have been even more shortsighted. Why, every half-literate bravo could hack the system and deprive the universe of Von Schmidt. No, your highness, the missiles can only be launched manually from the control room, by a trusted employee whose current whereabouts are unknown to me.”

“Not by you?”

“Come, your highness, would you really trust Von Schmidt with the awesome power of the atom? The brochures have stated on numerous occasions that I am capable of anything and who am I to fly in the face of public opinion?”

“I see,” the Princess said. I see that you are utterly mad, she thought. “Well, you have more conventional defense systems, do you not? Using nuclear missiles to discourage flies would be too excessive even for you.”

“Nothing is too excessive for me, but your assertion is correct. My mansion is equipped with eight HH-48 AA laser turrets with Type 3 anti-kinetic field generators. We mostly use them for visual extravaganzas. For reasons already stated, however, they can only be manually controlled, and they are located on possibly the deadliest of locations at this particular junction in time—on the roof.”

The Princess shrugged as if fighting through a horde of sunbeam-shooting, razor-sharp space starfish were common practice and Von Schmidt was just being a great big ninny.

“Surely, men of your skill can break into any location in the castle. The chornoi are, after all, merely starved refugees.”

“I volunteer,” Ivanov stood on unsure feet and raised his goblet, adding some burgundy to Jean’s otherwise pristine lapel and leaving very little wine for himself in the process. “I do this for the people.”

Tanaka punched the table. “I come to ensure totality of success!”

“Yes, yes, this is most commendable,” Von Schmidt said dismissively, waving his hand as if to shoo away this excessive display of bravado. The Princess felt quite pleased with herself at squeezing some semblance of misery from this hardened reprobate. “Will you be able to operate the turrets?”

“Drunk boy can operate turrets!” Ivanov announced. What a fascinating glimpse into the childhood of a Russian hero, the Princess thought.

“All right,” Von Schmidt said, massaging his temples unhappily. “Martin and Martin,” there was a subtle difference to the names that made them sound dissimilar enough to be recognized as different names, but without giving their owners the illusion of personhood. “You will accompany our champions to the eastern elevator. Once there, you will return here for further instructions. The password for the turrets is ‘Es werde Licht.’ Try not to mispronounce it. The turrets don’t like it. Martina, fetch us some tea and marmalade while we await the outcome of this drama.”

“Make it three,” the Princess said. “I do not care for cold tea.”

“Sending the serving girl an extra time simply to ensure your tea is hotter than the other guests’; this could start a most wonderful new trend in the courts of Terra!” Jean exclaimed.

“Mais oui, c’est genial!” Jean replied. “Now I’m positive we must have this Princess. With proper coaching, she could le plus terrible de tout les enfants terrible!”

“Quoi? Non!” the Princess instinctively answered in French and then made a spitting motion, as if cleansing her mouth of the foul tongue. “I meant that I would accompany Ivanov and Tanaka on their mission rather than stay here for tea. Afterward, however, some tea and jam would be appreciated.” She smiled at Martina, and Martina made a small courtesy that possibly also included the hint of a smile. It was difficult to tell due to poor illumination and excellent breeding.

“Nyet!” Ivanov protested. “Your safety is top objective for all. You stay behind where is safe until we return.”

“I fully agree that my safety is the highest priority,” the Princess replied, glad that the young Russian had blundered straight into her trap. “This is exactly the reason I prefer the company of two of Terra’s finest warriors over that of an old man three decades past his prime and two dilettantes who are more concerned about the condition of their nails than I am! Besides, given your ‘champions’ history of mispronouncing English words, I doubt they could pronounce this German phrase if their life depended on it, which it does. I, on the other hand, had an Austro-Lunar governess, and can affect a perfect German accent.”

Von Schmidt laughed. “By the stars, this young woman is likely to end up rescuing you two! Whatever price the winner of the auction will end up paying, up to and including his life, I will consider myself the thief.”

The Princess considered mentioning that Von Schmidt actually was a thief but decided against it. It would be ever so much more satisfying if this fact were presented to him by a jury of his peers.