But the adrenaline rush she got from her performances soon faded though she continued the tour like the trouper she was. Finally, having done Africa, Australasia and most of South America she got the message her heart had cried for, ‘The Pendorans were coming!’
“Yaf! Yaf! Yaf! My man! He’s coming,” she screamed down the phone to Elfi.
“The Robin’s coming with the first contingent of Pendorans and supplies. There’s no guarantee Yaf’ll be with them.”
“Of course he will. You’ve got to get Shap fixed up and I’ll introduce Yaf to my Dad and then we’ll all live happily ever after, like it says in the fairy tale.”
“I just hope the Riaz read the same books. Anyway, calm down, Princess, I still haven’t figured out how to fix Shap.”
“You’ve had months! You just don’t care about my happiness!” Simla complained.
“Hey, honey, I’m working my little tushy off here, while you’re gallivanting about on the glory road. Cut me some slack.” Elfi was feeling tetchy after months of burning the midnight oil on war work but hadn’t meant to snap at her friend.
“The only work your ass is doing is on a mattress under some man. And an ugly one at that, I’ll bet.”
Elfi gave a loud sigh. “I admit you’ve not been a priority, Simla, but I’ll get right on it.”
“Promise, sister?” Simla pleaded.
“Promise, sweetie. I’ll put my top guys at the Institute onto it. You might have to bring Shap over for tests.”
“Any time you say, I’m bored of this showbiz thing.”
Elfi was surprised. “I thought you’d thrive on it.”
“Naah, no room for ad-libbing in this show. I tried a couple of jokes once but they went down like a lead balloon, so now I just stick to the script. Anyway, not the point, what do you need to do to fix Shap?”
Elfi paused, uncertain. “We have to let him allow us access to his neural net without feeling threatened. Then, with luck, we’ll find where the conflict lies and sort it out.”
“I’ll bring him over right now.”
“Whoa, little lady …”
“You said priority, Elfi, and Yaf docks tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell everybody to drop everything to bail out the distressed Princess.”
“Hey, Princess of Old Earth and Avenger of Halven. I insist on my full title these days.”
Elfi yawned wide in the holo tank. “You’re full of shit.”
Simla and Shap took a flight from Lima to Elfi’s Institute and were there within two hours. Despite their speed Elfi had already set up a lab with her best technicians for the task at hand. Shap was instructed to lie on a couch while Simla took a chair beside him.
“Not much equipment here,” Simla commented.
“First phase,” Elfi explained, “We have to get Shap to allow us near him. And the only way to do that, short of blowing him up which would be very hard to do, is to talk to him.”
“Talk to him? You said he couldn’t be reasoned with.”
Elfi grinned. “Despite that, he’s a sentient being. We can only hope he’ll listen to logic if I can make a valid case.”
Elfi had dressed the part, wearing antique reading glasses with her white lab coat and carrying a clipboard. “Now, Shap,” she started “In your command hierarchy, what has priority?”
“Defence of mistress Simla.”
“What is your secondary command?”
“Defence of mistress Simla’s honor.”
“Define honor.”
“In this context, her virtue or chastity.”
“Are there sub-commands attached to this?”
“Affirmative.”
“Relay.”
“Honor is to be defended only until a suitable candidate for marriage is found.”
“What criteria would you apply to a suitable candidate?”
“Programming defines.”
“Relay programming.”
“The strongest of the strong, the bravest of the brave, the wisest of the wise, the most honourable of the honourable, the kindest of the kind..”
“That’s impossible!” Simla exploded.
“Quiet”” Elfi hissed before turning again to the android. “You know that such a suitable candidate is unlikely to exist?”
“Affirmative.”
“And that the lack of a husband will make your mistress unhappy?”
“A sad outcome, but according to programming.”
“But is your mistress’s happiness not included in your command hierarchy?”
“It is.”
“At what position?”
“Third.”
“It should be first!” Simla bawled.
“Simla!” Elfi reprimanded, “I’ll get nowhere if you keep interfering.”
“It’s my life,” Simla replied petulantly.
“May I comment, Dr Vilek?” the android asked.
Elfi was surprised. “Why, yes, Shap, of course you can.”
The android sat up. “You seem to be operating under the illusion that my programming is flawed. I can assure you that it is not.”
Simla jumped up from her chair. “Yes, it is, Shap. You’re denying me happiness by making it impossible for me to be loved.”
The android seemed to be affronted. “On the contrary, if a candidate fulfils the requirements of my programming I will not interfere.”
“You’re talking in riddles. You said such a person couldn’t exist.”
“I will rephrase. I have not yet encountered a suitable candidate.”
Simla slumped back in her chair. “I don’t get it.”
Shap turned his impassive metal face to her. “Your father programmed me, mistress, and he is a wise man. Dr Vilek examined the programming and discovered what she thought was a flaw, but if you examine my sub-command to command two you will find that the solution lies within it.”
“That’s the kindest of the kind stuff,” Elfi said, glancing down at her clipboard.
Simla planted her elbows on her knees and rested her forehead on the palms of her hands. Her father had programmed Shap. He wouldn’t want her to be unhappy. So, where was the clue, because he was smart enough to leave one and expect any daughter of his to figure it out. Think like father, she ordered herself. What’s important to him, what expectations would he have?
Slowly it dawned on her as the appropriate neurons in her brain fired and she jumped up again. “Got it!”
Elfi had been fussing with a computer at her desk and whirled round. “What? What have you got?”
Simla smiled smugly. “It’s as dangerous as hell and if I’m wrong Yaf might end up with a broken neck, but …”
“Tell me, tell me, I’ll run a simulation through the computer,” Elfi pleaded eagerly.
“I don’t need a computer for this one, Elfi, this is just my Dad’s cruel joke, and I will make him pay by having my children despise their grandfather.”
Elfi wondered what she meant, but the glow of triumph in Simla’s eyes convinced her that she was on to something, especially if she was planning children.
“Father,” Simla said disarmingly on the holo-phone, “are you going to the spaceport to welcome the Pendorans?”
“I suppose,” the Great Father answered gruffly, “though I’m getting a little fed up with the other Worlds and their contributions. I keep telling them I don’t need more men, trained or not, and to build shipyards and munitions factories instead and each and every one gives me the same line, ‘We can’t motivate the people if we’re not allowed to fight’.”
Simla let him hang himself but offered a little incentive, “I’m sure the Pendorans will be bringing some of their delicious beef as well, to help with feeding all these extra mouths.”
Derkon slapped his thigh, “Pendoran beef! The very thing to put fire in the belly. Yes, I’ll be there to welcome the farmers, bless their patriotic little hearts.”
Yaf was first down the ramp from the parked shuttle. He looked smart in
the sky-blue uniform and seemed to have filled out a bit with military training. Simla’s heart raced and not just as sight of him. She knew she was playing a dangerous game.
Yaf led a troop of his men to form an honour guard as Admiral Thrane marched down the ramp and saluted. The Great Father moved forward and shook him warmly by the hand and said, “Old Earth welcomes the brave men of Pendor.”
Admiral Thrane introduced his aides and the Great Father held Yaf’s hand for longer than a handshake. “Ah, Mr Alrick. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“And I, you, sir.”
“My daughter, Simla, thinks very highly of you.”
“I believe her to be a treasure above all others, Great Father.”
Derkon smiled. “Well said, young man, well said.”
The Great Father now led the Admiral and his aides, including Yaf, along the line of welcoming dignitaries, first of which were the Princesses of Old Earth. At her father’s insistence Simla had foregone her jerkin and kilt and was wearing a fuschia, knee-length, dress with her hair piled atop her head and dangly earrings. It was the kind of stuff Princesses were expected to wear and made her feel totally uncomfortable. She shook the Admiral’s hand politely and guessed correctly that he didn’t recognise her.
“I see you got the braid, Admiral.”
“What? Oh, dear God, it’s Simla. My dear, so good to see you again.”
But as Yaf approached, she tensed. To her intense relief his face split into a wide smile when he saw her. “Simla,” he said, “I had hopes of taking you in my arms the moment I saw you, but I don’t think it would be quite appropriate here.”
She gave him a very un-Princess-like wink and whispered, “Later.”
The rest of the afternoon dragged as speeches were made and bands played and Simla’s butt hurt from sitting on a hard, wooden, pew by the time the whole carnival was over. They would all re-assemble at the Palace for a welcoming ball that evening, and Simla was eager to get back to her apartment to peel off her ridiculous dress and get back into her kilt and tights.
She knew her father would be mad, he’d expect her to be in a ball-gown and tiara like her sisters, but she wanted to be dressed as she’d been when she first met Yaf. Anyway, the jerkin, tunic, kilt, tights and boots were more or less her personal look now and she didn’t want to disappoint.
Immediately after the meal the orchestra struck up and couples started taking to the dance-floor. Yaf came up to her at the top table and offered his hand which she accepted graciously. He led her onto the floor, swept her around for a few circuits and them pulled her close.
“I’ve missed you, my Princess,” he breathed into her ear.
“No more than I’ve missed you, you lowly lieutenant you.”
“I have commendations for obedience and good timekeeping.”
“Really? You’ve kept me waiting.”
“Didn’t seem much point in rushing, with that metal wall between us.”
The metal wall, Shap, was observing them closely from the edge of the dance-floor.
“What are we going to do, Simla?” Yaf asked.
“Do what you have to do, Yaf. Trust me.”
In response he pulled her closer and she could feel the heat of him on her leg through the thin material of his dress uniform.
“Mmm,” he groaned.
“No, not that.”
“But, I .. ” he complained.
She pushed herself away from him. “I am a Princess of Old Earth, sirrah, and unused to such forward advances. You must have some respect for my rank.”
A confused look passed over Yaf’s face. “What do you mean?”
She turned her head and lifted her chin. “Is this the way you romance a lady on your barbarous planet, sir? Do you have no respect for decorum?”
“Simla, what are you playing at?”
“I am behaving as a lady of my rank should, and not some common lady of the street.”
Yaf considered. “I’ll play the game if you want, but that damn machine’s still going to stop me.”
“That damn machine, sir, is my guardian, and charged with defending me from all but the bravest of the brave, the wisest of the wise ..”
And Shap appeared behind her and placed his broad hand over her mouth. “Explanation is not permitted, mistress,” he droned before moving away.
This confirmed everything she suspected and all she needed to do now was somehow convey her theory to Yaf, without alerting Shap.
“What was that all about?” Yaf asked in a bewildered tone.
She had to get him in to the right frame of mind. “It is of no import, sir. My guardian merely wished to remind of a trifling matter. But, let us return to your advances ..”
“Which are wasted while Shap’s malfunctioning.”
“Malfunctioning? Really? But one must remember that he comes from an earlier age.”
Yaf’s mind raced. What was she talking about? Shap was state-of-the-art and she’d said herself that his programming was flawed. She was playing a little game, but he didn’t know the rules.
“There hasn’t been a night passed when I haven’t dreamt of those pretty little titties of yours.”
Oh pick it up, Yaf, pick it up. “Why, sir, what a statement to make, I do declare. You shall make me blush with such talk.”
Where was she pointing him with this arcane talk?
“I apologise, sweet lady, my passions are roused and I am unable to control myself before your beauty.”
Attaboy, you’re getting it. She fanned her face with her long fingers. “I forgive you, sir, for I find you pleasing, but please have respect for decorum.”
She put a fraction of inflection on the last word and hoped Shap hadn’t picked it up. Luckily, Yaf had and she saw the light of understanding spark in his eyes.
“And, in finding me pleasing, milady, would you accept any further advances on my part?”
She smiled warmly, her smart First Minister was getting the point. “My acceptance of your advances, sir, would depend on the manner in which they were made. No honest maiden could reject a handsome suitor if he made his case in the proper fashion.”
“Men are feeble creatures, milady, and need encouragement.”
“What form of encouragement, sir?”
“A kind word perhaps”
“You shall have it, sir, and many more, if you but take the steps you know you must.”
“I should speak to your father then.”
“If you so wish.”
Their conversation ceased and they continued to dance till the music ended. Yaf escorted Simla back to her seat and then approached the Great Father.
“Sir, I would speak to you.”
The Great Father turned his grey head. “Young man?”
“It concerns your daughter Simla, sir. I have not known her long but I find her most becoming and would ask your permission to court her.”
Derkon grinned. “Do young men still ask permission to court in this day and age?”
“If they are brave, sir, and willing to face a killer android.”
The Great Father nodded. “And wise, to know that no man sets a challenge that cannot be surmounted.”
“My wisdom I leave to others to judge. My bravery I put plainly before you. I intend to court your daughter and by whatever means make her my wife. If this leads to my death, so be it.”
The Great father put a comforting hand on the young man’s arm. “Nobly said, and I must ask your forgiveness, I should have known that Simla herself would choose wisely.”
“You grant me your permission then?”
“Gladly and proudly.” He stood up and the orchestra immediately silenced. Heads turned towards the top table but Derkon, the Great Father, ignored them. He turned to Shap, standing at Simla’s shoulder. “Shap, it is done!” he proclaimed.
The android stiffened. “I thank you, Great Father, this programming has been difficult for me.”
“Apologies, noble warrior. You
shall continue to defend Princess Simla, but I pass all command codes to her. She is no longer a child.”
“I haven’t been a child for years,” Simla said sourly.
Yaf came over to her, bent down and kissed her fully on the lips. “Shut up, Simla.”
XII
“And you didn’t drag him back to your apartment and fuck the living daylights out of him?” Elfi asked Simla on the phone the following day.
“No,” Simla replied haughtily, “I am a well brought up lady, unlike the trollops I consort with.”
“But you’ve been desperate to get your hands on him for months!”
“We are at war, Dr Vilek, and some things must wait.”
“Well, you have more self-control than me.”
“Doubtless, but that is because you are a slut. I, on the other hand am …”
“I know, I know, a well brought up Princess. But I don’t think you’ll keep your maiden status for long. Takes two to tango, remember, and Yaf isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you.”
“My beloved is a gentleman,” Simla said, raising her haughtiness a notch, “and will behave like one.”
“He’ll be fucking your brains out within a week,” Elfi replied emphatically.
“Is that what your computer predictioms tell you? They have no understanding of the finer things in life.”
“Blaah,” Elfi said, mimicking vomiting, “If this is the new Simla I don’t like her.” She cut the connection and her image faded from the tank.
Simla curled up on her couch and said, “I overplayed that, didn’t I?”
“A tad, mistress,” Shap replied.
“All that shit you put me through and all a guy had to do was ask my Dad if he could court me.”
“It was a brilliant strategy, created by your father. Fear of me would halt all but those who were truly worthy of you.”
“Yeah, it was smart, but still shitty.”
The android seemed more at ease now that the burden of defending Simla’s chastity had been lifted from him. “It curtailed any carnal adventures you may have had. Is that such a bad thing?”
Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla Page 12