Tyrant

by Richard F. Weyand

“We have some time before dinner,” he said.

  Peters lay down next to him, facing him. She snuggled into him, laying her head on his arm, and put one leg and an arm over him possessively. He put his other arm around her waist and sighed.

  He kissed the top of her head.

  “Welcome home, Amanda.”

  “I feel like I’m home whenever I’m with you, Bobby. Wherever it is.”

  She snuggled up tighter against him.

  Peters woke to him stroking her hair and humming softly. She twisted her head to look up at him.

  “Time for dinner,” he said.

  Dinner this evening was a goat cheese bruschetta, followed by spaghetti agliata with toasted pecans, and a strawberry sorbet and biscotti for dessert.

  “Oh, I’m going to gain a million pounds if I eat like this all the time.”

  “There’s a private gym on the floor below us. That’s where I work out.”

  “I meant to ask you. What’s on the next floor down? It says Imperial Residence in the VR.”

  “There’s the private gym, a small indoor pool, hairdresser, manicurist, pedicurist, makeup artist, masseuse, barber, doctor, dentist. Lots of stuff. And the Imperial Guard has their on-call duty station there.”

  “Wait. Back up a minute. Hairdresser, manicurist, pedicurist, makeup artist, masseuse?”

  “Sure. You can use those whenever you want. They’ve felt underutilized without an Empress to care for. Just let them know a few hours ahead of time so they can be ready for you. They should be under Imperial Residence Services in your VR.”

  Peters called it up in the lower half of her vision in VR.

  “Look at this list! They’ll do everything but wipe your butt.”

  “Actually, when Adannaya was very old –“

  “Never mind. There’s some things I don’t want to know.”

  Dunham laughed.

  “But yes, those services are all available. They figure any time they can save me is time I can spend either in governance or down-time. And, since I can’t leave the building, they’re all here.”

  That evening, they did nothing in particular. He read in VR, sitting on the sofa facing out the open window wall and down the mall. She read in VR, curled up in one of the big club chairs facing him. It was remarkable in that it was so unremarkable.

  It was as if they had been together for years.

  Peters woke up in his arms, snuggled into his chest, their legs all tangled. She looked up to find him looking at her.

  “OK, this is more like it,” she said. “Enough of that waking up alone nonsense.”

  “Agreed.”

  He kissed the top of her head and sighed in contentment.

  The cold front had moved through and it was warm Saturday. They had a light lunch on the pool deck. After lunch, the pool looked very inviting to Peters.

  “I’m going to change into a suit and do some laps. Is there a guest suit up here somewhere, or do I need to go down to my closet?”

  “Unless I miss my guess, there’s probably a suit in the cabana for you.”

  They both walked over to the cabana, and in the central room above the shelf there were two name tags: ‘His Majesty’ and ‘Ms. Peters. She picked up one of the suits there, and it was in her size.

  “How do they do that?”

  “Never underestimate Housekeeping. They moved all your clothes, remember.”

  “So, one piece or bikini?”

  “Bikini.”

  She grabbed the two-piece and headed for a changing stall. He grabbed the trunks and did the same. He was done first, and was standing on the pool deck when she came out. She pirouetted for him.

  “Ta-dah! What do you think?”

  Dunham turned to the Imperial Guardsmen hovering just out of casual ear shot.

  “Leave us.”

  They nodded and left.

  Dunham looked Peters up and down. She really did look good in that suit.

  “I don’t know. It’s just not quite right, somehow.”

  He walked up to her and took her in his arms. He grabbed a tie-end from the bow behind her neck in one hand, and one from the bow in the middle of her back in the other. He pulled them both, then let go with one hand and phhht! her top was gone. He dropped it to the side, then held her at arm’s length to view his handiwork.

  “Better, but still....”

  His hands slid down her body to the bows on either side of the bottoms. Phhht! and they were gone as well.

  “Much better. I really like that view.”

  Peters stood there, naked, with her hands on her hips.

  “Well, what about me, Mr. Emperor Bigshot. Don’t I get a view, too?”

  With that, she pulled a tie-end of the bow in the drawstring of his trunks, then grabbed the hems and yanked them down a foot. They fell to his ankles.

  She laughed, turned, and ran to the pool, diving in.

  Dunham smiled, stepped out of his trunks, and lay down on the chaise where he could watch her swim laps. He was at the narrow end of the pool, and she was swimming laps toward him, then away, toward him, then away. She teased him by swimming the backstroke on the away leg, giving him tantalizing glimpses as the water flowed and shimmered over her naked body.

  After a dozen laps, she climbed out of the pool and walked up to him while wringing out her hair.

  “It’s great swimming nude. It’s easier. No suit binding you up.”

  She looked him up and down and smiled a wicked smile.

  “I see you really did like the view.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  He held out his arms and she climbed onto the chaise with him.

  Afterwards, spent, they lay cuddled up in the chaise. All Dunham’s cares and worries and responsibilities had sloughed away, and the two lovers fell happily asleep together in the warm sunshine.

  Obvious

  When they woke, they went for a quick swim in the pool, then headed to the cabana to get dressed.

  “Oh, you got some sun. Maybe too much,” Dunham said.

  “I know. What about you?” Peters asked.

  “Mostly I was in the shade of you.”

  “My lily-white butt got the worst of it. That’s gonna hurt.”

  “Find out if the masseuse is available. Right now. Have her rub you down with aloe. Get it before it gets bad.”

  “And you?”

  “Yeah, I probably should, too. You go first. You need it more.”

  When Peters came back upstairs, she was much happier.

  “You were right. That feels much better. And she keeps the aloe in the refrigerator. Boy, does that feel good going on.”

  She hitched a thumb toward the door.

  “You’re next. She’s waiting.”

  That evening, they were sitting in the living room of the Imperial Apartment. Once again, it was as if they had been together for years. A comfortable evening at home.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention,” Dunham said. “We have breakfast with Geoffrey and Suzanne tomorrow. Casual, but one notch up from ‘dressed down.’”

  “Who are Geoffrey and Suzanne?”

  “The Saarets.”

  “The co-consul and his wife?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, my God. What do I do? What do I say?”

  “Well, you unpantsed the Emperor on the pool deck today, so don’t do that.”

  Peters erupted in giggles.

  “OK, I promise I won’t do that. But I’m serious. What do I even call them?”

  “Geoffrey and Suzanne. Suzanne decided there needed to be someplace where I was on a first-name basis with people, and she decided the Imperial Residence was it.”

  Peters liked Suzanne right off, without even having met her. Smart lady. And she was looking out for Bobby.

  “She’s probably right.”

  “I know. So it’s Geoffrey and Suzanne.”

  “OK. I think I’ll manage.”

  “You’ll do fine.”

  “I just wan
t to be what you need me to be. Not to create trouble for you with your co-consul.”

  “Then just be yourself.”

  “Good morning, Bobby,” Suzanne said in greeting.

  “Good morning, Suzanne, Geoffrey. I’d like you to meet Amanda Peters.”

  “Good morning, Amanda. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Peters shook hands first with Suzanne, then with Saaret.

  “Good morning, Suzanne. Geoffrey. It’s good to meet you, too.”

  “This way, everyone.”

  Suzanne led them into the dining room. The table was arranged on the diagonal, so no one would have their back to the window wall and be silhouetted during their breakfast. The cook was standing by the sideboard, which was loaded with breakfast dishes. There were also, with the Emperor present, two Imperial Guardsmen standing in the corners of the room to either side of the door from the hallway.

  “It’s buffet this morning, so everyone just help themselves,” Suzanne said. “And let’s not bother with excusing yourself from the table to go get more.”

  They all made their way along the buffet, with little conversation other than ‘Oh, this looks good’ or ‘Try the blintzes, Amanda.’

  Once they were all seated, Saaret started the conversation.

  “So I have to ask the obvious question, Amanda. How did you two meet, anyway? I thought his circumstances had Bobby here pretty well sequestered from any normal contact with humanity.”

  Dunham grunted and Suzanne and Peters laughed.

  “I’m a palace brat, Geoffrey. My father is the head gardener for the rooftop gardens. My brother and I and our friends used to play up there when my father was working and the Empress was busy in her office. When I got older, I was a gardener on the staff working with my father. When I went to college, though, I was out of the palace.”

  “What did you study, Amanda?”

  “Finance and economics.”

  “Ah. A kindred spirit. I was finance and history. I’m sorry, go on.”

  “When I came back to work at the palace three years ago, I was nine-to-five in the palace finance office. I snagged one of the apartments in the new Imperial Research building, though. It had just opened up. And I still had access rights to the gardens, because I helped out my father when things got busy.

  “So I used my access to sneak up to the gardens once in a while when the Empress and her friends weren’t up there. It’s been easier since Bobby became Emperor, though, because he never went up there.”

  “Too many memories,” Dunham said.

  “It made my father sad. He was so proud of his gardens, and how they made life easier for the Empress. But it made it much easier for me to sneak up there. I would walk through the gardens and just dance and sing. I love the gardens.”

  “And then Bobby went up into the gardens last weekend,” Saaret said.

  “Under some pressure,” Dunham said, with a look at Suzanne.

  “Yes,” Peters said. “I was in the big meadow, dancing and singing, and I became aware there was a young man standing there watching me.”

  “She was a vision,” Dunham said.

  “Did you know who he was?” Saaret asked.

  “I had no clue, Geoffrey, or I would have run screaming for the freight elevator. In fact, I told him he wasn’t supposed to be there. They were the Emperor’s private gardens. He told me his name was Bobby Allen and he was in charge of the building.”

  Saaret raised an eyebrow at Dunham.

  “Well, it was true, in a sense.”

  “All good lies are,” Saaret said.

  Saaret turned back to Peters.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Bobby asked me to a picnic on Sunday. So we got together and had a picnic. By then, I knew something was up, because a friend looked it up, and there was no Robert Allen on the palace payroll. So we had our picnic, and we were lying there afterwards enjoying the meadow, when I confronted him about the deception. I told Bobby I knew his secret. He was actually in the Imperial Guard. They aren’t on the palace payroll, and I knew he hadn’t come up on the freight elevator, so he must have come up the escalator. You see?”

  “Yes, I see. Logical.”

  “Yes. Then Bobby told me that wasn’t the whole truth, and told me his last name.”

  “Big surprise.”

  “Biggest ever. I almost ran away.”

  “I had to talk her into staying,” Dunham said.

  Suzanne had said nothing during any of this conversation. She had been afraid Amanda Peters was a gold-digger who had sought out the relationship, taking advantage of the emotionally fragile Emperor. But the slight softness that crept into her voice whenever she said his name, and the way she looked at him, made it clear she was terribly fond of him. Suzanne gave her tentative approval to the young woman, not that it was her place to do so, but because she was protective of the young man fate had made their Emperor, and she was happy for him.

  “And she stayed,” Saaret said.

  “Yes. Thankfully,” Dunham said.

  “And that was last weekend?” Saaret asked.

  “Yes,” Peters said. “It’s been a whirlwind romance, I know, and that’s not my style at all. But Bobby is just so comfortable.”

  She shrugged.

  “I feel like I’ve come home,” she said.

  “You have, my dear. You have,” Dunham said.

  “What a remarkable story. I am truly happy for you both,” Suzanne said.

  “I’m happy as well, for my own selfish reasons,” Saaret said. “Amanda’s idea for dealing with a potential Catalonian Secession is brilliant.”

  “Geoffrey,” Suzanne said, menacingly.

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell her, dear. Amanda and I have no contact during the business day.”

  “Oh, very well,” Suzanne said.

  Peters looked between Saaret and Suzanne, wondering what was going on.

  “I told these two they weren’t allowed to talk shop during our meals, Amanda. But it’s a losing battle, I can see.”

  “Well, we’re actually done eating, dear,” Saaret said. “This is over coffee.”

  Suzanne just shook her head in resignation.

  “Shutting down their communications if the sector governor tries to split from the Empire is brilliant, as I say. And the first indication back from the technical groups is they’ll be able to do it without crashing the communications in the whole Empire. And it’s just in time. She’ll likely move before the coronation.”

  “Do you think so, Geoffrey?” Dunham asked.

  “Of course. She isn’t going to want to wait until after the coronation, when your approval is running high and everyone is in a pro-Empire mood.”

  “Of course. That makes sense.”

  Peters was watching this exchange when it suddenly hit her.

  “She’ll do it on Coronation Day,” she said.

  Saaret and Dunham both turned to look at her.

  “Look. Coronation Day is an Imperial holiday. Tens of trillions of people will be in VR to watch the coronation. It’s the most watched thing that ever happens. Everybody is looking forward to it. And on Coronation Day, she’ll intercept the VR feed to her sector and show her coronation instead. And everybody in Catalonia will say, ‘Of course, she’s the Empress. I saw her coronation.’”

  Saaret and Dunham both looked like someone had hit them with a plank and they just hadn’t fallen down yet. Peters looked back and forth between them. Saaret recovered first.

  “She’s right, you know,” Saaret said.

  “It’s obvious now she’s mentioned it,” Dunham said. “It’s not a hundred percent, but that’s surely the most likely scenario. Can the sector governor hack the VR feed into the sector? And can we counter-hack it?”

  “I’m not sure, but those will be the first questions to Projects tomorrow, you can rest assured on that.”

  Saaret turned to Peters.

  “Nicely done, Amanda. Thank you.”

 
Peters shrugged.

  “It’s kind of obvious. You guys are too close to it. You think of the coronation as something you have to do. Like everybody else, I think of it as something I get to watch. It’s a really big deal.”

  “What do you think of the Emperor’s new friend, my dear?” Saaret asked once breakfast was over and the young couple had left.

  “I like her, actually. I had half-expected not to. I suspected she was a gold-digger or the like. But that’s clearly not the case. They are very much in love. But there’s more than that. They’re comfortable with each other, like a couple who’ve been together for years.”

  “Comfortable. That’s the word she used, too. I can see that. She’s clearly very good for him. I hope it lasts.”

  “I think there’s a very good chance it will, Geoffrey. Comfortable is good.”

  “Sort of an odd match, though, isn’t it? City girl born in the very middle of Empire, teamed up with a boy from the backwoods of a planet in the back of beyond.”

  “You’re looking at it wrong, Geoffrey. Think gardener’s daughter, growing up in the gardens, teamed up with the son of a subsistence farmer, who grew up in the country.”

  “OK. That makes more sense. And she’s clearly smart as a whip. That’s twice in a week she’s pulled the bunny out of the hat on a major issue.”

  “Her talents are wasted in finance.”

  Saaret made a face at her.

  “I’m not talking about you, Geoffrey. You were never a mere functionary in finance. You entered as a senior administrator. That’s different. Amanda needs to be in a policy position, where she can continue to pull bunnies out of hats for you.”

  “Not on the Emperor’s staff, though. That’s liable to be too hard on a new relationship, and having him happy is my biggest concern.”

  “Agreed. Perhaps the co-consul’s office? Senior adviser, perhaps?”

  “Senior adviser is pretty steep for a twenty-five-year-old.”

  “But junior adviser isn’t in the big meetings where you need her. She has 20/20 vision on the big picture. At least once in a while.”

  “You’re likely right. I’ll bring it up with His Majesty.”