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They were back on board their ship but still docked in the parking area where they had landed to attend the Leadership Meeting, which was now winding down. More Mistresses had wanted to speak to Mirabella, but she had been tired and had wanted to leave.

Lynx couldn’t say that he blamed her—the news that she would choose someone to take her place as the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven had brought every opportunistic Mistress in Opulex running.

All of them were willing to swear to do their very best for the planet but it was clear almost none of them were trustworthy. The avarice in their eyes was plain to see. Indeed, some had outright offered to pay Mirabella huge sums of money if she would name them her successor.

This had made Mirabella—who was a very honest and forthright person—extremely angry. She had announced that anyone who attempted to bribe her would never get a place on the Sacred Seven—which made several of the richest and most powerful Mistresses almost as angry with her as Mistress Bloodmuch was.

As far as Lynx could see, getting off planet was an excellent idea—they needed to get Mirabella away from all the powerful Mistresses she’d “pissed off” as the humans said. And consulting the Oracle on Delphi Prime also seemed to be a legitimate way of choosing Mirabella’s successor as the Ruling Member of the Sacred Seven. According to all he had read, it was extremely accurate in its predictions and its advice was always good.

“So you really think we should go ask this…thing who our little Mistress should pick to take her place?” Saxon growled, raising an eyebrow.

“It gets impeccable reviews,” Lynx told his Bond-Brother. “And it’s free to consult the Oracle.”

“What? But Mistress SpeaksLoud said it always charges a price,” Mirabella pointed out.

“Yes, but the price isn’t monetary, apparently,” Lynx said. He pointed to the article about Delphi Prime he’d been reading on the screen. “It says here that the Oracle may ask something of you, but that money or credit never changes hands.”

“In that case, maybe we should go ask it,” Saxon rumbled. “Anything is better than sitting around here, waiting for one of those pissed-off Mistresses to try and take revenge,” he added in a low voice.

Lynx nodded. It was clear he and his Bond-Brother were on the same wavelength. They needed to get Mirabella out of Opulex and off Yonnie Six until she was ready to make her announcement as to who would succeed her. After the disastrous Leadership Meeting, the whole planet had suddenly gotten a little too hot for her.

As though to underline that point, the viewscreen beeped with an incoming call and when Lynx hit the answer button, the worried face of Mistress Hottalot came on the screen.

“Oh, Miri—there you are!” she exclaimed, seeing that Miri was sitting between Lynx and Saxon in front of the viewscreen. “I’ve been so worried for you ever since you left the meeting. Whyever did you say all those awful things to everyone?”

“You mean why did I call out Mistress Bloodmuch for trying to drug me or tell people I wouldn’t accept bribes?” Mirabella looked incensed.

“Yes, all that!” Mistress Hottalot fluttered her gloved hands, like frightened pink doves. “You’ve got half of Opulex angry with you—and it happens to be the richest, most influential, and most powerful half!”

“I don’t care about that,” Mirabella said, lifting her chin. “I can’t be bought and they might as well know it.”

“You’d better care! Some of these Mistresses command private armies, you know!” Mistress Hottalot said. “In fact, I think it would be best if you’d get out of Opulex for a little while…just until things cool down, you know?”

“That’s fine,” Mirabella said. “In fact, I was just plotting a course to another solar system. I’m going to seek some outside wisdom to help me choose my successor.”

“Oh, well…that sounds fine, I suppose,” Mistress Hottalot said. “When will you return?”

“I hope to come back within a few days,” Miri told her. “I’m not sure how long this will take, but not longer than that, I don’t think.” She glanced at Lynx, who nodded. According to the Outernet, a visit with the Oracle was generally no longer than a few hours time.

“Well, have a safe journey,” Mistress Hottalot said. “I hope you’ll let me know when you get back into town. I can have it all arranged for you to make your announcement, transfer your power to your successor, and get away quickly so anyone who’s upset can’t come after you.”

“I’ll let you know,” Mirabella promised her. “Thank you, Mistress Hottalot.”

“Just be safe, my dear!” Mistress Hottalot blew her several pink kisses and the viewscreen went blank.

“Well…” Mirabella sighed. “I guess that settles it—we’re going to visit the Oracle.”

“Plotting a course for Delphi Prime now,” Saxon rumbled, punching coordinates into the Nav-com. “And I’m putting in a call to the Mother Ship to ask them to fold space for us.”

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