by P. S. Power
Richard understood the idea. It was simply wrong. His entire life had been one of constantly learning new things. Right until the last ten years, as he waited for death to find him. Not learning anything new was really how he mentally marked the end of his life. The point where he’d given up and knew that death was the next adventure.
“I don’t know, Prince Alphonse… I’m ninety-four… Ninety-five now, I think. If I can learn new tricks, there’s no reason for you not to as well. Besides, you’re immortal, right? That’s got to change the equation. No one that’s going to be around in fifty years has any excuse for being lazy that way.”
The words got a sour look and then a chuckle, as a large hand on his back moved Richard to a large sofa. It was sitting again, instead of walking, or running for exercise, but it felt good. Different muscles being brought into use, stretching and relaxing as the cushion took his weight. His behind, which was bony and a little lacking in padding at the best of times, actually felt a bit bruised from being on the hard floor for three days. There was no raw feeling of bed sores yet, which was nice, now that he thought of it.
Those had been a constant threat near the end of his life.
The Prince, playing servant, jogged out of the room, only to come back ten minutes later with a large platter, heaped with more food than Richard was going to be able to eat. Even on a good day it wouldn’t have been happening. It was a bit odd, being spiced meats and cheeses mainly, with slices of tart fruit and a spread of some kind made of chopped veggies. That and oil, he thought.
There was a little paddle that he was supposed to use to spread the stuff on bits of cheese. At least Alphonse did that, before trying to feed him bites of food, like an invalid. He smiled at that, then did the work himself. He was tired, but that was all. Besides, it felt a bit creepy, being fed by a man like that.
Finally, as the food was mainly gone, the giant man, his face a bit heavy at the cheekbone and jaw, even if he was thin enough otherwise, laughed a bit.
“There is that, isn’t there? The rules for a person who might live hundreds or even thousands of years have to be different than for one who is halfway through with it all already. I’ll see to doing it then. Learning what Tor has pushed me to for nearly twenty years already. I hear that you used guilt to get Dareg Canton and Timon Baker to learn the language of the Ysidril as well? There was some indelicate use of your name, I believe, after the fact.”
The man actually seemed reticent to mention that part of things. As if he were telling on his friends, rather than joking about what a pushy a-hole Richard was.
Then, Richard hadn’t been trying to use guilt at all, in the first place. Really, it had been an attempt at kidding with Tim Baker, at the time. The man had simply taken his words to heart, for some reason. Not that it hurt anyone to know more than they did before. That kind of misunderstanding was a danger of working with a different culture like he was doing. He simply didn't know enough to actually prevent that kind of thing from taking place, even if he was careful.
So he simply nodded.
“Well, they get to punish me by coming up with training for customs and protocols here. They can do that? You can help them with it.” That had been the plan the last that he’d heard.
Alphonse shook his head, seeming happy though.
“I already did that one, with the wizard Taman. She’s attractive, isn’t she? I haven’t had a lot to do with her before these last days, being that we run in slightly different circles and all that. Still, she spoke highly of you, several times.” The man stopped then and rolled his eyes a bit. “Which, once you have the teachings we were working on, you’d recognize as me trying to set you up to date her. She’s a bit small, physically, or I’d consider doing that myself. I’m related to Tor, by odd chance and machination of an Ancient, but not her, even if he’s her older brother. There was genetic manipulation used to make Tor into a clone of his grandfather, where her mother is actually a clone of her grandmother, so there is no crossing there at all.”
The words got him to nod, taking bites of food, slowly, as he thought of what to say. Finally, he went with the truth. Ignoring the complicated parts with the family line. That they had cloning in their magical world was neat, though not that surprising. They rode horses around and still had space colonies. He refused to be shocked by anything they did, given that.
“She’s a doll. Lovely, I mean. Perfect, really. Nice and intelligent as well, which are great traits to have. I’m just… So much older than she is. Also, from a different world. That has to be a problem, don’t you think?”
The words got Alphonse to shake his head, which seemed to mean the same thing there as it did back home.
“No? No one would think anything of her marrying a man nearing a hundred if he had a high enough station, after all. You seem to count for that, given your work. Plus, we weren’t talking that kind of thing yet. Just that you date. Go on outings and possibly have relations, if you both want to do that sort of thing. That… I think the rules here, for nobles, are different than what you are used to? At least Ambassador Mableton mentioned something like that. You don’t regularly have more than one person you are seeing that way, do you?”
The cheese he was eating had a rind on it, that was highly spiced. Not hot though. It flavored the whole thing as he ate it, with the vegie mash. That was a lot like pesto, though not as strictly green. The flavor was mild enough.
“Well, me, personally? I haven’t dated or done anything like that in… Decades, to be honest. Most people back home only see one person at a time. You can do more, but that tends to be a bit sketchy. Not done by polite and good people. I’ve sort of had my eye on Kerry Yoder, to be honest. Again, she’s young for me. Even if I do look like this now. That part is new. Three, four months back I looked old. I mean, clearly ready to die in my bed, that kind of thing. It’s hard to make changes like that.”
The man said a single word, which was “Hmm.”
Then he grinned.
“Then, get over it? Move past that and forget that you had that going on, except for the lessons it brought you? After all, if I have some alien man telling me to finally get off my soft behind and finally learn magic, you can see a few women and not feel bad about it. After all, you look no older than… What? Fourteen or so?”
The man seemed to mean it, which had Richard smiling.
“Back home I’d be closer to seventeen or eighteen that way. Do people age differently here?”
That got a hand to wave in the air.
“Honestly? It’s the size. By fourteen I was nearly six-six. I can see that you have older features, so made a guess. It used to drive Tor crazy, when we were boys at school. Everyone thought he was a first year student, even after three or four years there. Nobles here tend to be tall and to look down on those who are too much smaller. It’s a failure of my people. I had that trait removed when I was made immortal, myself. That doesn’t mean I don’t have any prejudices left, clearly. Sorry about that.”
The man didn’t seem to be doing that in particular with Richard or the IPB personnel, as far as Rich could tell. If anything he was more polite than they deserved. He was a freaking Prince, after all. The rest of them were just… People. Worse, Infected ones.
Still the advice was good, so Richard nodded up at the man.
“Right. Well, I could try that, I suppose. Not that I know how to start. I’m so far from that kind of thing, dating, that I don’t really recall how it’s done. Worse, I’m pretty certain that what people did when I was a boy is actually different now.”
Alphonse, seeing that the meal was done for the time being, took the large silver tray, most of the food still on it. Then he stood up.
“Easy enough, then. Ask about it. Ambassador Mableton will tell you, for your world and possibly ours. As for Taman… Well, she told me that you were interesting that way. Several times. Send a note and suggest an outing, with a way for her to politely decline, if she wants? I doubt she’ll say no. Not
without at least a counter offer. Not that she’ll expect anything too rapidly from you that way. Is there anyone else you have an eye for?”
The words weren’t leading, though there actually was.
“Eve Benson? I don’t know if you know her. She’s the one woman that I’ve actually had some success in getting to know, since my change.” He meant sex and wasn’t going to say it that way. Oddly, the tall man nodded, seeming to pick up what he really meant.
“Ah? Ambassador Benson? She’s lovely. Much like a young Queen Tiera. Back when she was shorter, I mean. That, three women, is a good start. As for her people’s customs… I suggest asking her directly. That or Jim, the teacher of such things from their world? He’s a fascinating fellow, as well. A school boy, selected from there to come here and teach us about their people. The idea originally was that if we had to kill him for insult or failure, no one with an army would mind that much. A fiction of course, since abusing a notable such as him would be insane. The ploy used means that we can ask him such things as how to use the bathrooms in his world and how to get Ambassadors into bed without it being rude, however. You should make an appointment with him.”
Richard could see the use of that kind of person, really. They probably needed to both get someone in from Noram for that and see if they could collect up this Jim for his world as well. Not that it was Rich’s job to do things like that, strictly speaking. He had a specific task for the IPB already. Bringing that kind of thing up or even making it happen was a good way to get in with a lot of different people if you made sure to be useful enough.
The more he was involved in things, the easier it would be for him to find out what they had and to get his own crew hooked up that way. Since that was a group of people that kept growing on him, it was important to expand his reach, if possible.
“How do I do that, do you know? Get an appointment like that?”
“With Master Jim? Easy enough, find Ambassador Benson and ask her about it. She normally sets his arrangements that way, I understand?” There was a smile then, telling the other man that the Prince understood the irony of doing things that way.
Still, it could work and was an excuse to meet up with the woman.
Not that he was going to be doing it that day.
“I need to get some sleep, then get up and start trying to… I’m learning to move other people at a distance, if I can manage it. My powers might allow it. I’ve been told so. I’ve only ever moved a cat before, with me. There are some tricks to it, I think.”
Those words got a nod.
“Come, this way, then. We have a room selected for you. Will you require me for the next portion of things? To serve you?” There was a nod toward the food in his hands from the giant man.
Looking up at him, Richard nearly said no. After all, he wasn’t going to be sitting in place, needing to be given sips of water as he struggled not to be in agony.
Then he realized that he could use a bit of help with the whole thing, if it worked at all.
“Yes? Not to serve me, since I can do that for myself. I need to practice moving people around if it works at all. Would you be willing to do that?” He didn’t add that it might be dangerous. After all, that was just the truth and should be apparent. The Prince was a brave man, though, so it seemed to be about right that way.
To show that portion of things, the man nodded, easily and without hesitation of note.
“I can do that. I should come and get you in… A day? To allow you to rest after your ordeal here?”
That sounded nice. Richard shook his head, making the move bigger than he felt like doing.
“Eight hours. I really don’t have time to rest. Which is a shame. I’m really good at resting. It’s definitely in my top ten list of skills.”
The man laughed at the joke, and it was meant as one, so Rich was able to smile. Then he let himself be led to a room directly, the tray of food being carried the whole time instead of being settled on a table or taken to wherever it needed to be dumped off, first.
The room he was given was just up the stairs, to the right of the grand staircase. One level up. As rooms went, the thing was larger than his entire apartment back home. To be honest, it was nearly three times the size of that, with a single vast bed in the middle of the room. Slightly toward the far wall. There were windows and they showed that it was still daylight out.
The Prince made that go away, with a touch on the wall, standing near the door. It didn’t shutter the window, just cause the thing to become part of the wall. A thing that now looked to be made of wood or stone that was covered with gold and cream-colored silk.
That was magic, of course. The whole place was built of it. Instead of offering to steal one of those for himself, Richard simply changed his clothing, to make lightweight, blue colored pajamas. Those left his feet bare, which didn’t get him glared at or anything. It was, more or less, what he was used to wearing to sleep in.
The Prince gave a very gentle bow from the door, so he returned it, just before crawling into bed.
The man spoke as he closed the door.
“Eight hours then, Mr. Drake. I’ll be here… Do I insist that you get up, if you can’t?” There was some doubt in the words.
Richard understood the idea behind them. He was, there in Noram, a dignitary of sorts. Even if he wasn’t important. Pounding on the door too loudly might be a rudeness that would require a war to these people. At least in theory.
“If I don’t wake up fast enough, you have permission to dump a bucket of ice water on me. That and drag me from bed. If that doesn’t work… Well, then call a doctor. I’m not that hard to wake up, normally. Not since I changed.” Back at Shady Lane there had been times when he’d slept most of the day away, of course.
No one had been bothered by that at all.
Really, it was probably easier on the orderlies and nurses that way, if he wasn’t going to be able to get up and actually take care of himself. Not that he blamed them for it. Shady had been typical of its kind of place, notable in that the people there actually did their jobs well. He was the one paying for it, so had been careful about making certain they weren’t secretly monsters. The worst thing they’d done to him there was abandon him to drown when a hurricane came.
Him and several other patients.
It was murder, since they knew what would happen to them all, of course. Not that he hadn’t gotten the basic idea at the time. The ones left were all so old that they probably couldn’t have gotten out of bed safely. Except for Gary, the whiner. He’d clearly been left because the staff there simply didn't like him.
In the end, Richard had saved his life. Along with help from several other people. Tank and his crew. If any of the older people still lived, he didn't know. Howard, what he’d been called at the time, had simply vanished in the storm. He’d be presumed dead, of course.
So had the old cat that lived there, Tabby.
That was what he was thinking about, when his head hit the very soft pillow. The last thing he was thinking of, right until the bucket of incredibly cold water hit him, hours later.
Gasping, he sat up straight. A guilty looking giant, in a very nice suit of clothing, which was black and purple, seeming to be a uniform if a foreign one, standing over him, holding the tub that had been once filled with bits of ice and what seemed to be twenty gallons of liquid.
Rather than snap at the man that he’d been using a figure of speech, he simply nodded and shivered at the same time, still sitting in the now soaking bed.
“That worked! I’ll get up now, I promise… How do we clean this up?”
The man smiled then, since he wasn’t being screamed at, as Richard scrambled from the now soaking bed. The cold water brought to mind the last time that had happened to him. This time when he stood up there was no chest deep plunge into cold water at least. Richard also didn’t think he was dead, so it was better, even if he wasn’t that comfortable for the moment.
Alphonse smiled at the sce
ne, instead of seeming upset by the idea that they’d see to that themselves. Richard really didn't want the maid wondering if his bladder had failed him in the night.
The Prince waved at the bed.
“I can handle that. Perhaps you should clean up for the day? I don’t know what you need… Food first, perhaps? Some coffee?”
That sounded good, to be honest. He was going to drag through the day without something to prop him up, even if he had a full eight hours of rack time. Worse, he needed to hurry and not linger over things. If he was able to do anything at all, it was going to be down to luck, he feared.
“Some toast and that coffee? Black, if it’s a thing here. Then… Well, I go into the mirror and see if I can shift you around to a different room. Warning, you’ll probably be standing around for hours, before anything happens at all. This kind of thing is mainly trial and error for me… well, fingers crossed?” He wasn’t superstitious at all, but did it anyway. Just in case he was wrong about that sort of thing.
The large Prince, rather awkwardly, copied him. Then he fled the room, to the hallway, calling out in a hushed voice.
“I need some toast and black coffee for Mr. Drake. At a run, please!”
Then he returned before Rich even figured out that the door across from him led to a bathing chamber. He didn't allow himself a lot of luxury that way, even if the room with its giant tub and tiled shower invited that kind of thing. Instead he simply used the provided materials to shower, shaved with a straight razor for the first or second time in about forty years, brush his teeth with licorice flavored paste and brush his hair. That was still professionally short, so did what he wanted well enough.