A new world

Dear Diary,

Wayland lies next to me, sound asleep. On my other side, Cordelia is stretched out, her nude body at peace. I never noticed her faint, soft snoring before. I awoke in the middle of the night, Wayland Junior begging for attention. I slid my breast out of my nightgown, and let him suckle until rest quelled his infant spirit. I lay him back down in his Lumawood crib, and smiled down upon him. He grinned his goofy grin, and waved his little arms.

I was never able to finish you, my diary, as intended. You got lost in a drill tank during the battle, and it was a salvager that returned you to me. Much has changed since I last wrote. William Prescott II, now known as William the Traitor, was indeed exposed to have colluded with the Americans to arm the Mole Men and provide them with intelligence with which to strike at our great empire. I'll not recall the gruesome fate that found him, only to say it was far more merciful than he deserved. It was discovered that he had been planning nothing less than the overthrow of the Crown itself.

An Imperial Audit was ordered, and it was discovered that he had been secretly working with the Scots and the New Zealanders to use the Rajah 4 as a base with which to strike Earth, to overthrow the crown and install him as a dictator of sorts with his corperate cronies placed in all major positions of power. Could you imagine a nation ruled by such men? He needed the Americans to do the dirty work, but was unable to find a way to allow them unfettered access to our planet. So, he turned to the Mole Men, whom the East Orion Company had known about for some time.

I feel it necessary to write that at this point in the journal Sir Drake has risen from his slumber, and is currently rubbing my shoulders. I'll have to administer to his needs with my mouth since my swollen belly makes intercourse terribly awkward. I expect Rebecca to arrive in time for Christmas. I'm not sure if its his or Wayland's but at this point it doesn't really matter that much.

King Edward VII visited our colony after the Christmas Battle, the first time our Emperor has graced us. He toured the scenes of destruction, the great cities and the mines. He wanted to understand just what his subjects had been up to. It was he who told me that while even he didn't know who my real mother and father where, the list of possibles was quite, quite limited. This turned out to be a little white lie. Once he found out I was engaged to be wed to Wayland, he produced a simple message from his pocket.

"Maternal line: No direct ancestors, 1st generation, Britannia line. 100% pure." It meant that I wasn't entirely human. I was something new. The Eugenicists had taken the most common traits from royals all over the empire, and; using their art, had constructed me. Well, part of me, anyway. This egg was fertilized with a King's own seed, mine being from King Helvig of Norway, who died some 80 years ago, his seed preserved by the scientists. Out of the 500 original families, I was the only one to inherit his genes.

It was at this meeting that he turned my world even further upside down. "You know..." he said to Wayland as we walked in the garden, my belly swollen with child. "What this colony really needs is someone who knows it. Someone who can combine the Brit and the Hindu. Someone who can stand up to the East Orion Company when its necessary. Someone who is the best of both." Wayland started to protest, but the Emperor waved his hand.

"Its already done, lad. You are now Sir Wayland Windsor Singh, Governor of New India. And of course, you'll need to be wed in grand fashion, as befitting a member of the royal family." Wayland's chest rose and fell in great breaths. "Don't disappoint me, lad. After all, I am my brother's keeper."