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. Dion rose, gave his hand to the queen. Astarte extended her apologies calmly, managed to make this all look as if she were returning to the limojet to retrieve a forgotten lipstick.
Warden was on his feet, hastening after the king, the cameraman at his side.
The Royal Guard closed their ring of steel around the Royal Couple, hustled them back to the safety of the limojet. "What's happening?" Warden demanded, frustrated.
A ripple of motion and a collective gasp from the crowd attracted his attention. His commlink buzzed.
"You're right, Mr. Warden. Something is up. The Navy's gone on red alert around this planet! My source doesn't kmow why."
"I do," said James M. Warden.
He stared in astonishment as a drop ship plummeted out of the blue, cloudless sky, thrusters firing to slow its descent.
At first Warden thought the ship was intending to land in the midst of the million or so people gathered to watch the ceremonies--in which case the carnage and death would be horrendous. He was directing his cameraman not to miss that shot, when he realized he had misjudged the entry. The drop ship was actually landing in a parking lot about one kilometer from the platform.
An assassination attempt? Armed uprising? A publicity stunt?
The king and queen were being hastily and unceremoniously bundled into the limojet. The dignitaries were bewildered, incensed, indignant, or hysterical; the Royal Guard swarmed the platform
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