Invardii Series Boxset
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“But you’re going to need a queen,” she continued, “which won’t be difficult, because you’ve already got one lined up, haven’t you.”
This time it was almost comical. Cordez sat rigidly in his chair, impaled by Sallyanne’s gaze like a rabbit in a headlight.
“You don’t think I’ve noticed how much Regent Ming means to you?” she inquired gently.
This time it was Manoba’s turn to blush, if that’s what it was under his dark Brazilian complexion. He was certainly very uncomfortable.
“Political marriages have never worked,” he tried to explain, “at least not between equals. The supposed ‘gains’ have always been illusionary, and rarely outweighed the upheavals in both camps.”
“But that’s not the case here, is it?” said Sallyanne. “This is not about political power, Manoba, this is about leading the Earth by popular mandate in a time of crisis. You may have to give up whatever political aspirations you have, but it would be for something of infinitely greater good for Earth.”
“Okay, okay!” he said irritably. “You might have talked me into believing Earth is going to need a king – goddammit, King Manoba, who would have believed that – but why do we need a royal couple?”
“Don’t you want Asura?” said Sallyanne bluntly.
“No, no, I didn’t say that,” said Manoba, looking away.
“There has always been a royal couple,” said the sociologist quietly. “Throughout history. It has become a race memory, an archetype. The unconscious attraction the people will have to a royal couple will outweigh that of a king alone, or a queen alone.
“You know as well as I do that it will be in part a figurehead position, someone standing for something worth fighting for, and asking for the support of the people.”
The Regent nodded. His psychology wasn’t learned out of books, but he had a fine grasp of what motivated people.
“So what about another ‘royal couple’?” he suggested.
“Cut it out, Cordez,” she snapped. “You are top of the list of candidates for the position of king. There is only one woman sufficiently powerful and well known to be queen, and that’s Asura Ming. And she wants you as her king. QED.”
Cordez was shocked that she used his surname. Sallyanne and he were on a first name and personal basis, so she had deliberately used his last name to shock him. It had worked.
But then he began to wonder how Sallyanne knew what Asura wanted? He said so, and Sallyanne looked at him with disbelief on her face, then she quoted a line from literature at him.
“There are none so blind as those in love.”
He looked uncertain, a man in a woman’s world of emotional intrigue. She almost had to laugh.
“When the time comes, you will be accepted as King Manoba, appointed by EarthGov – King Manoba the First presumably, since there is unlikely to have been a precedent.”
Sallyanne was openly smiling now. She was enjoying this. “Then you will put the call out for a queen, and the ‘royal romance’ will be played out in the media for, oh, shall we say six months?”
Manoba looked indignant, and Sallyanne began to laugh.
“Then you will marry Regent Ming, in a ceremony lasting a number of days, across all time zones, and appear regularly on the evening news to talk about matters of great import to Earth, and encourage people to do more for the war effort.”
“Shtick, it sounds terrible,” said Manoba, pulling a face.
Sallyanne laughed. He looked as if a tantrum was not far off, though she knew he had a great deal more control than that.
“Which bit of it is the worst bit?” she teased.
“All of it,” he replied. “Every bit of it is equally as bad as the next bit.
“Anyway,” he continued, “don’t try to change the topic. How do you know what Regent Ming wants?”
Sallyanne leaned back into the sofa. “Her office talks about what she gets up to, the same way we talk about you here.”
Manoba’s eyebrows lifted marginally. He couldn’t really object, it was understandable.
“And we have to arrange things for our employers, like your trips to the Summer Palace. Sometimes we make friends with other staffers. I’m close to Louise Wei on Regent Ming’s staff – her cultural attaché. We have a lot in common.
“But I didn’t need confirmation from Louise. You’ve not really been yourself for some time, though I must admit your work hasn’t suffered.” Then Sallyanne smiled mischievously.
“But I can say this. Regent Ming will be taking a little personal time at the end of the month, and I really think you should visit her then. Your secretary has been keeping that week free of appointments for you.”
Manoba looked up in astonishment.
“It’s a conspiracy, I always knew it. Women do hunt in packs!”
Sallyanne laughed.
CHAPTER 21
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Regent Cordez was immaculate. If anything was going to let him down tonight, it was not going to be his attire.
He was wearing a perfectly tailored white suit and matching waistcoat. While it would have been the epitome of elegance in his home country of Brazil, it had in fact been subtly altered to include an Asian influence.
The waistcoat in particular was silk from Asura’s home province, and she would recognise the material. In other ways as well, the suit was that much less angular, and had hints of colour in it.
The collar of his shirt turned down, but it had a little of the look of the upright court collar favored by Mandarins in the earlier periods of Asura’s homeland. He wore a simple gardenia in his buttonhole, but the scent mingled with the oils in the cleansing gel he had used to create a refreshing and ultimately stimulating combination.
The shirt, ceremonial handkerchief and cummerbund had more of the colours he had seen Asura wear, and which he presumed were her favorites. He omitted a tie or cravat, gently introducing the idea of an informal but exceptionally well-dressed aristocrat.
He checked himself in the mirror. He was perfect. Oh god, he thought, as long as it’s not all downhill from here!
There was a knock on the door of his suite. This was an example of the minimum use of technology at the Summer Palace. The same tall young man who had collected him for dinner on previous occasions was waiting for him again.
The two of them talked intermittently in the Regent’s native Brazilian dialect on the way to the Jade dining room. Cordez was able to ask a few questions to satisfy his curiosity. Yes, Madam had requested someone fluent in Cordez’ dialect, and she had done so on each occasion he had visited.
By way of explanation the young man added that there were a number of functions taking place in the Summer Palace in any one week, and all the world’s major languages had to be be catered for. Yes, it was unusual for Madam to be so specific about a dialect from one country.
The corridor ended in familiar double doors, richly decorated in jade inlay.
“Would that be all, Sir?” said the tall young man. “Yes, that would be all,” replied Cordez.
Cordez entered the Jade room alone.
Asura rose to greet him in a simple gown that hinted at quality and elegance, but gave her a sensible freedom of movement. Cordez could see at once that his choice of colour and style had been inspired. They could have been fitted out at the same fashion house, with the express intent of making an entrance together.
Asura eyed him up and down with a minimal bob of her head, and arched one eyebrow while she pursed her lips. Manoba waited in nervous anticipation for any comment she might make. She lifted one slender finger to her staff in the kitchen, to serve the meal, and waved him to the seat opposite hers.
As the first course, a selection of appetisers, was brought to the table, they talked about the busy month that lay behind them. There were many projects, big and small, that they had been working on. Manoba was content enough with this. Nothing personal needed to be introduced until later in the evening.
The main course wa
s excellent, as if the chef had for some reason outdone himself. That was quite an achievement considering the standards Asura set for the Summer Palace. Manoba complimented her warmly, and Asura coloured slightly.
“It is an old family recipe,” she offered, in an offhand way; and then hurried on to a description of the next course.
That was odd, thought Manoba. He had rarely seen Asura discomfited, and he wondered what the reason might be. It was almost – but that was silly – as if the dish had a tradition in her family of being served to someone special, someone more than a friend.
Was this the case, and had she prepared it herself? He dismissed the idea.
After a selection of digestive teas, Asura motioned for her staff to leave, as she had done previously when they dined together. What they discussed at these times was too much of a security risk to be heard by her employees, whatever their security clearance or loyalty to her personally.
She led him through to a smaller room that had a more homely, lived-in feel. This was the one he had come to recognise as the most comfortable place in her extensive apartments, a place where she came to relax.
She pointed to the plain Hao-tsing chair, the pressure point chair, but he shook his head. She made a little shrug with her shoulders, and smiled. He put his cup down and stepped toward her, until he could look down into her eyes and see the green flecks scattered through her brown pupils. He took her hands.
“There is one thing we never talk about,” he said quietly, pouring all of his regard for her into her eyes and hoping his affection would pass through into her depths.
She looked away, and he squeezed her hands gently. She looked back at him.
“An alliance between Regents would normally be out of the question,” he began, then corrected himself. “A personal alliance would not stand between two Regents when each must be seen to be a strong force for their trading block. One would inevitably be seen as weaker.”
She put her head down. Before she did he saw how suddenly tired she looked.
He began again, but she placed a finger against his lips. She shook her head and turned away, collecting his cup and moving on for hers.
Manoba felt the moment slipping away from him. Following her into the kitchen he tried again, “but what if there was a situation in which both took on new roles, if things were different.”
She didn’t wait for him to finish, but put the cups on the broad preparation table and went to brush past him. He placed a hand on the servery and prevented her from doing so.
Why did I do that? he wondered to himself, and then realised this had to go one way or the other. It couldn’t stay unresolved. If she refused to ever work with him again, at least he would have a clear answer. And maybe, over time, he would be able live with that. But he had to know.
Asura backed into the corner before him, a number of emotions working their way across her face. She must have known she was in no danger from him, and the turmoil seemed to come from within. He stepped nearer, and put his arms on the benches on either side of her.
They were so close now he could smell the exotic fragrance of green tea on her breath. She seemed to be trying to say something, and then she was trying to stop herself from crying.
All he could do was wait. She was in no state of mind to listen to him at the moment. After a while she calmed herself, and then a gentle smile appeared on her face.
“It appears I am at your mercy, kind sir,” she said quietly, and put her hands up behind his neck. He put his arms around her, and the gentle pressure of her body against his was unbearably sweet.
“Ah no,” he protested gently, “I have been at your mercy since I first heard the sound of your voice, and came under the spell of your extraordinary charm.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and leaned into him. He held her quietly for a while, and then led her back into the wider room. Sitting with her on a straight-backed settee, he outlined Sallyanne’s suggestion that the world needed to face the rising threat of the Invardii with an old concept. One that had echoed in the minds of Human beings down the centuries, the idea of a king and queen.
A slow realisation dawned across Asura’s features. “It might work!” she said at last. Then she became quite excited.
“That’s brilliant,” she said, “and completely unexpected, and I think that’s half its appeal.”
“So you think it might work?” he repeated with a smile, happy simply because she was happy. Then a sudden realisation struck him.
“But you didn’t know that in the kitchen,” he said, in disbelief. “You didn’t know I had this idea in mind, and you were prepared to surrender to me!”
He looked at her in wonder. She put her hand over her heart, and looked up at him innocently, as if to say “surely not.”
He bounced in his seat, amazed that she had let him see her real feelings. “Don’t look at me like that. You would have done anything for me, I know the signs!”
She looked at him and smiled sweetly, and then composed her face into a neutral mask.
“How can you suggest such a thing!” she protested. “I was just being sympathetic, that was all.”
“You were not!” he said. “You would have let me make love to you – dammit, you wanted me to!”
He paused, stunned by the realisation. “You would have risked everything for me, your Regency, your future.” His words died away as he realised it was true.
She picked up his hand and held it in hers, and said nothing.
“You do love me,” said Manoba at last. “You were prepared to make any sacrifice. God in heaven – I don’t believe it.”
He stopped, unable to continue.
Asura squeezed his hand. “Don’t expect to trade on that in the future,” she said, and her voice hardened to the voice he normally heard her use as Regent of the powerful Asian trading block.
“And your proposal of playing queen to your king, an equal position as queen, I must add, is acceptable – as long as my advisors see no lessening of my position in it. And,” she continued, making a pained face, “as long as you can convince the Board of Regents of your crazy plan, and then EarthGov.”
“Ah, good then,” said Manoba, “So pleased that’s . . . settled.”
He’d got what he wanted, but the moment seemed to be slipping away from him. He had no intention of his relationship with her being limited to what was politically expedient, and her actions in the kitchen had told him she felt the same way about him.
“There is one thing,” he continued, “just a minor point you understand.”
“Hmmm?” said Asura, getting up as she prepared to make them another drink in the kitchen. He pulled her back onto the settee.
“About you being prepared to do anything for me,” he continued. “Your unspoken admission – the one we are never to talk about.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling broadly.
“Though considering what I have in mind at the moment,” he said thoughtfully, “that might be better said as ‘with me’.”
“Is that right,” she said, and twisted her hand out of his grasp. Then she dodged behind a tall, solid chair next to him. “Think you’re capable, do you? Enough of a Regent for the task then, mmm?”
He hadn’t expected this. There was a real firebrand behind the proper façade and controlled presentation of his favourite Regent.
Oh well, beats fumbling about nervously and wondering if we’re doing it right, he thought. And the chase was on.
CHAPTER 22
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The Board of Regents had convened in Vienna at extremely short notice. Hoover Runciman from the North Am block was already in Europe on business, and Mbele Rhodes had arrived in short order from Africa. Both were now with Victor Emens, the current Board chairman, at the Euro-Russian trading block headquarters.
The remaining Regents, George Padoulus (Pacific), Asura Ming (Asia) and Manoba Cordez (South Am) were present as holographic images through secure vidlink.
Cordez looked around the room. Good, he noted, everyone had made it, in person or the slightly shiny electronic versions of themselves. Cordez was fitted with a holographic head set, and his view of the room was synchronised to the way his head turned.
Emens called them to order, and the meeting began. It quickly found itself bogged down on whether Earth should commit its forces in defence of Uruk. Some of those present thought Earth should keep its forces back in readiness for the inevitable invasion by the Reaper ships.
Practical matters didn’t seem to be registering with them, noted Cordez with annoyance. The Invardii armada was little more than a day’s star drive from Uruk, and Earth’s forces would be hard pressed to get there in time, even if they started out immediately.
“We have to put our own interests first!” declaimed the North Am Regent. Hoover Runciman had always treated the North Am block as some sort of independent state with the right to ride roughshod over the interests of others. Now he seemed to have the same sort of belief about Earth and its position in relation to the rest of the galactic milieu.
“If we lose half our ships at Uruk,” he continued, “what chance do we have against an Invardii attack on Earth some time in the future?”
He thumped the table, the standard fallback position of someone who doesn’t know how to put their case by reason.
“We have to accept that Uruk is lost. That will buy us time to make preparations here, so we can be ready if those evil bastards dare to stick their noses into our space!”
More rhetoric, sighed Cordez. How can the North Am Regent be blind to the fact we should stick with the Sumerians now, so they will stick with us in the future.