“I don’t have one,” I said apologetically.
It was Flerrionna, proposing to move the cats to a spare suite. Much as I was loth to part with them, I agreed but suggested she move them one at a time. Trying to get one cat into a cat basket when the other is trying to get out is not an easy task at the best of times and I didn’t want her getting scratched.
“Something I should know about?” the lawyer asked as I handed back his communicator.
“No. Just some personal arrangements.”
“Do you know what’s going to happen today?”
I laughed wryly. “No. I don’t even know where we’re going.”
He looked surprised again. “You seem very calm about it.”
“A wise being said to me that the universe is so vast that, if you let it, it can overwhelm you. To survive you have to shut it out and deal with the here and now. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“A wise being indeed. Well, I can tell you we’re going to the Bartimarm Holy Stadium. It’s a sports arena come concert hall come convention centre. It’s the biggest in Geretimal and one of the biggest in the whole sector.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking but how many does it hold?”
“As a concert hall, which is probably how they’ve got it configured, about a hundred and twenty thousand.”
I shook my head. “I knew I’d regret it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stick with me like glue. As soon as they give me the contract, I’ll pass it to you. You look it over. Take as long as you want. Anything you see… and I mean anything… that looks suspicious or doesn’t explicitly state what’s been agreed, you query. I don’t care if it takes all night.” I gave a lupine grin. “No contract, no Lottery Winner, no Ceremony.”
It was his turn to grin. “That’s what I thought. I think I might enjoy this. Let’s go over the terms as you understand them just to make sure I’ve got them all.”
We spent the rest of the journey clarifying exactly what we expected to see.
The stadium was vast. I’ve never seen the Superdome or the Astrodome in the States but I imagine they must look something like this. The main arena was a huge white egg shape, painfully bright in Capella’s light. Piled up against the sides were clusters of hemispheres that housed, I was told, the subsidiary rooms; changing rooms, restaurants, bars, lecture theatres, meeting rooms and, of course all the necessary facilities. Unlike a stadium at home, though, the Bartimarm Holy Stadium was surrounded by parkland with large concourses for attendees to walk along when entering or leaving. There wasn’t a vehicle in sight. The car park was, of course, underground.
I was met by a welcoming committee. They introduced themselves and I promptly forgot their names and titles; they were minders, nothing more. They startled to hustle me inside. Honesty-in-Trust’s cry alerted me. I stopped.
“That being is with me,” I said.
“Nonsense,” one of my minders said. “Come along.”
They pressed around me, trying to force me to the entrance. I refused to move.
“I will repeat… that being is with me.”
One minder gave an exasperated sigh. “He can’t come with you. Only authorised beings are allowed inside.”
“Then you’d better get him the necessary authorisation and quickly.”
“It can’t be done. All accredited passes were issued months ago. Now come along.”
He grabbed my arm and tried to drag me inside. I shook him off angrily. I was totally sick of the arrogance everyone connected with the Commission seemed to show.
“If you so much lay another finger on me, I will sue you for assault and battery and attempted kidnap.”
They stopped and stared. I folded my arms and looked each of them steadily in the eye.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, you’re the Lottery Winner,” one said disdainfully.
“Good. For a moment I thought you believed I was just a hunk of meat. I am the Lottery Winner. Remember that. Now, I will say it a third time. That man is with me. Where I go, he goes. Do you understand?”
“You really are being most unreasonable even for a barbarian. No-one is allowed inside the premises without a pass.”
“I don’t have a pass.”
“Yours is waiting for you inside.”
“Good. And there’s better be one waiting for my companion, too.”
“That's impossible. It takes months to issue a pass. Now will you please come along? There’s a lot to do and you’re holding everything up.”
“I’m holding nothing up. All you have to do is issue my companion a pass that lets him be with me and I’ll come along as nice as ninepence.”
“And I keep telling you that it can’t be done. Only you are allowed into the building.”
This was going nowhere. I spun on my heel and pushed rudely past one of the gaggle of minders.
“Where are you going?”
“Away. Have a nice ceremony.”
“You can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
They exchanged looks and started after me. One of them stretched out a hand as if to restrain me. I raised my hand and glared at him.
“I warned you.” I said. I raised my voice. “Honesty-in-Trust, are you recording this?”
He waved his communicator thing. “Every bit.”
“Have we got enough for an official complaint?”
“Probably but we won’t need it. The media’ll have a field day.”
I grinned. “I can see the headlines. ‘Lottery Winner refused entry to Ceremony arena.’”
The minders looked aghast. This obviously wasn't in their game plan. I noticed one of them was jabbering into his communicator.
“You’d better call a taxi,” I said the Honesty-in-Trust.
The minder with the communicator stepped forward.
“Who are you?” he said aggressively to Honesty-in-Trust.
“He’s my companion,” I interceded.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he sneered.
“But I was to you. As far as you’re concerned, he’s my companion. That's all you need to know. Now…” I leant forward and stuck my face into his, “…is he going to be allowed to accompany me or am I leaving now?”
There was a furious squawking from the communicator. The expressions on the minder’s face were almost comical. He went from arrogant to angry to concerned to angry again and, finally, to resigned and then disgusted.
“It seems your ‘companion’ is to be issued with a pass.”
“Excellent, “I beamed. “One that entitles him to accompany me at all times, of course.”
“Of course.”
We trooped into the vestibule, Honesty-in-Trust with us.
“If you would wait in here. I’ll see to the passes. I’ll need your ID cards.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “Neither my nor my companion’s ID cards leave our possession.”
“But I can’t issue a pass without it.”
I shook my head sadly. “And I thought I came from a backward planet. There are two very simple solutions; either take us to the equipment or bring the equipment to us. I’d’ve thought even a being with your limited mentality would see that.”
His face would have soured a lemon. “Come along, then.” He seemed to like these words.
He led us to an office where we duly presented our ID cards to the scanner and were issued with very impressive-looking passes with green ribbons which we were told to put round our necks. We were taken to a lift and the arrogant minder started to walk away.
“One moment,” I called to him. He turned. I fixed him with the coldest stare I could muster and said in a hard, flat voice. “If I was not a civilised being you would, at this very moment, be lying in the road out there with the life-blood draining from your dying body for the insults, indignities and humiliation you have heaped upon me today. I will not forget.”
His eyes went wid
e, his face paled and he swallowed nervously then turned and scuttled off.
“That was a bit over the top,” Honesty-in-Trust said as we entered the lift. “Would you really have done that?”
“Of course not. D’you think I’m a barbarian or something.”
He laughed. The two minders who were accompanying us looked as if they wished they weren’t.
We were led down endless corridors; obviously service corridors for we passed numerous beings of all shapes, sizes and colours. Some were guiding carts and trolleys laden with I had no idea what. Some carried, pushed, pulled or guided mysterious pieces of complicated equipment though I suspect they were probably the local equivalents of vacuum cleaners and such like. Finally we stopped by some imposing doors. Our minders whispered to someone inside the room, the doors hissed open and we stepped into a huge conference room dominated by a table of very dark wood. Seated around it were a number of beings, the majority being Capellan. They stood as we entered and began waving their hands and chanting ‘hub, hub, hub’. I stopped in alarm.
“They’re applauding you,” Honesty-in-Trust hissed in my ear.
It sounded strange to me but I took his word for it, painted a broad smile on my face and bowed. The applause grew louder. Finally, the Chairman of the Commission stepped forward with a smile as sincere as mine.
“Welcome, Sir Crawford MacAdam of Earth, thirtieth winner of the Galactic Lottery.”
Jesus, I hadn’t realized I was supposed to make a speech. Screw them.
“Thank you. I’m very glad to be here,” was all I said.
It seemed to be enough. I was ushered to a seat at the table and everybody sat. There was a moment’s confusion as a seat was found for Honesty-in-Trust. He was taking my instructions very seriously indeed.
“And who is this?” the Chairman asked.
“He’s with me,” I said shortly, challenging him with my gaze.
“Oh, right,” he said and sat down.
Another Capellan stood.
“Right. Seeing as we’re all here I’ll get started. We’ve a lot to do.”
I had no idea who he was but he went round the table and various beings stood and reported, essentially, that their area of responsibility was under control. There were the inevitable bits that weren't, of course, and some to-and-fro discussion about how they could be resolved. All in all, it was just another project meeting and I was impressed with how well organised it was. As I’d been a bad boy up to now I decided it wouldn’t hurt to mend the odd fence. As the project leader finished summing up, I raised my hand.
“May I say a few words?”
He looked surprised but nodded. I stood.
“Sirs and Madams,” I’d gathered that this seemed to be the correct mode of address, “I’ve attended quite a few project meetings in my time and I have to say that, if everything is as you say it is, we’re going to have a very successful event. Whatever the public see, it’s your hard work behind the scenes that makes it all happen. Thank you.”
To my surprise, they all applauded. Even the Chairman was forced to join in, albeit reluctantly.
“Strike one for the good guys,” Honesty-in-Trust murmured in my ear.
The project leader was smiling as he turned to me.
“You’re probably wondering where you fit into this. The truth is, you don’t. However, we’ve found it better, in the past, to let the Winner get a feel for what goes on behind the scenes. It makes it easier when all sorts of people start bossing you around. It may seem off-putting but there’s a reason for it all.”
“Just so long as they’re polite about it,” I said. “I’ll be bossed as much as necessary.”
“Good. Now, from here you’re scheduled for a press conference. The media people will ask you a lot of silly questions about your home planet and how you feel about winning…”
“Say no more,” I interrupted. “We have them at home.” I mimed holding a microphone aggressively and intoned breathlessly. “So tell me, Sir MacAdam, how does it feel to know your entire family have just been killed in a spaceship accident?”
There were laughs from around the table. The Chairman, I noticed, was looking unhappy.
“I think you’ll do just fine,” the project leader said with a smile. “Someone will be with you to fend off the most objectionable questions though I think your ‘friend’…” he nodded at Honesty-in-Trust, “…will keep you safe.” It was clear they knew each other. “After the press conference there’s an informal lunch where the President will officially welcome you to Geretimal. After that…”
President?
“Stop a moment. Did you say President?”
“Yes, the President. His Highest Puissance, The Very Honourable Baraham Clinoln. Weren't you told?”
“Not a word. I was only told this about the press conference and the rehearsal. I’m not really dressed for a lunch… never mind being introduced to the President.”
“You should have been.” He looked round for Chairman but that gentleman was engrossed in a conversation. He sighed and turned back to me. “It’s informal but… In-the-Eye-of-God could you see if you can rustle up something suitable for Sir MacAdam to wear? I assume you’ve something for tonight?”
I indicated my suit bag. “I have it here.”
“You’ve not been shown your dressing room?”
“No. I was brought straight here.”
His expression was becoming blacker. “Again, you should have been. I can only apologise for the oversight. We’ll try and do it before the press conference. You shouldn’t have to cart your belongings around all day. Where was I… oh yes… after lunch, you’ll have half an hour to relax before the run through starts. You can sit in the auditorium and watch part of it if you like. I’m afraid you won’t be able to see the real thing.” He grinned. “You’re the star attraction, after all. I don’t know what the director will want you to do. That's his area. After the run-through, there’ll be an informal meal and then you’ll be confined to your dressing room until you’re needed. Any questions?”
“No. You’ve covered everything, I think. I have to say that’s the most comprehensive and lucid briefing I’ve had since I arrived.”
“Thank you. Is there any other business? No? Right, you all know what needs to be done. Let’s get to it and make this a show Sir MacAdam will remember the rest of his life.”
They stood and applauded briefly before filing out. The Chairman went with them, throwing a disapproving glance in my direction as he did. The project leader sidled up to Honesty-in-Trust.
“Is there something going on I should know about?” he said quietly.
Honesty-in-Trust grinned. “Just looking after my client’s interests. Actually, there is,” he went on in a more serious tone, “but it shouldn’t affect you. Best not to know.”
“Okay, you old rogue, I’ll take your word for it.”
“Less of the old, if you don’t mind.”
“A friend of yours?” I asked as we trotted along more corridors.
“In a way. We know each other. He’s one of the good guys.”
“He seems to know his stuff.”
“Oh, he does that.”
We came to a door with a panel with writing on it. Our guide opened it and ushered us in to a good-size dressing room. I managed to take in the comfortable seats, the dresser with a large mirror and covered with pots and bottles and tubs before a woman came bustling over. She wasn’t Capellan. Her hair was a combination of indigo and emerald green streaks, her snub nose had a large gold ring through it and similar rings hung from her ears which had very large lobes. Her skin was pale green, her eyes brown. She was short and dumpy and dressed in a bright orange top and loose yellow trousers.
“Sir MacAdam, I thought you’d got lost,” she said.
“Sorry. They omitted to tell me I had a dressing room.”
“Well you’re here now. We haven’t got much time so I’m going to have to rush you. First, have you got your clothes fo
r tonight?” I indicated my bag. “Good, I’ll hang them up. Do they need any attention?”
“No, I did it at the hotel last night. Let me hang them. I know how it’s done.”
Without waiting for her response, I opened the bag and pulled out my suit. Her eyes widened.
“What’s that?”
“My best suit. I’m dressing like a native, tonight.”
She grinned. “Hold it up a mo. Yeah. That’ll work well. It’s plain and dark and that’ll set you off against all the colour.”
“I’m glad you approve. You’re the only one who does so far.”
“I approve,” Honesty-in-Trust said.
“Okay, so there’s two of you. Can’t I be allowed just a touch of hyperbole?”
I hung up my suit and shirt.
“Shit, I forgot my toiletries; my toothbrush and razor and aftershave and stuff.”
“No problem,” Honesty-in-Trust said. “I’ll call the hotel and get them sent over.”
“Would you? Thanks.”
“Okay, I gather you need something to wear for meeting the President?” the dresser said.
I nodded ruefully. “Somehow they forgot to mention that, too.”
“Try this.”
She pulled out a jacket and trousers similar in colour to what I was wearing but more severely tailored. I looked around for somewhere private to change, couldn’t see anywhere and gave a mental shrug. I stripped off and donned the new suit. It almost fitted. Mostly it was too loose. The dresser tugged and pulled a bit. Amazingly, it felt and looked better.
“That’s good,” I said. “How did you do that?”
“Trade secret. Slip it off and I’ll fix it. It won’t hold for long but enough to get you through the day.”
“Do you have something for under it? A shirt of some kind in white or cream?”
“What’s the idea?”
“Contrasting colour at the neck.”
I Won A Spaceship Page 12