My Life: An Ex-Quarterback's Adventures in the Galactic Empire

by Colin Alexander

  I agreed. I doubted that I would have much else to do.

  “Good.” Valaria clapped his hands together. “Father, I am sure, said nothing about your quarters. The North guest suite has been set for you. Your old rooms would not be very appropriate, would they Jaenna?”

  “No,” she said, turning even redder. “If you must go, Valaria, I would like to see Haranyi and Norboh before everyone goes to the celebration tonight. Are they around the Residence?”

  “Haranyi, certainly. He’ll be at his cottage now. I can have the guard call him when I leave.” Then he paused for a moment. “Norboh, I’m afraid has not been very, ah, visible of late. I really don’t know and can’t go into it now. I have got to fly. You do remember your way?”

  Jaenna knew her way, but the way she went was not toward the guest suite. Valaria’s tossed off remark about Norboh, a name completely unfamiliar to me, seemed to weigh heavily on her. She wanted to see Haranyi, as soon as possible if not instantaneously. Myself, I would have preferred the guest suite and a nap, but my curiosity soon took over.

  Haranyi was the commander of Tyaromon’s guards, which meant all the ground forces on the planet. He was also the person who had trained Jaenna. For a long time, I had wondered what he was like. In my mind, I pictured him as a little, old Japanese in a kimono. He turned out to be small, five foot six tops, and old, with snowy white hair, but his pale blue eyes and pug nose were not the least bit Asian. By virtue of his rank, he enjoyed a small cottage away from the main Residence, set amidst a grove of trees.

  The door had been left open for us, with Haranyi awaiting us in a chair in the entryway. He greeted me in the way one would expect him to greet someone he had spent much of his life preparing to fight, cool but very correct. Then, he turned to Jaenna. His face might have stayed impassive, but there was a twinkle in his eyes when he took her hands in his.

  “I rejoiced when I heard you were still alive, child, and unlike most, I don’t feel compelled to take issue with how you did it.”

  Jaenna’s answering smile was relaxed. Clearly, this greeting was what she needed to reduce the concern that mention of Norboh had raised. She did stick up for her brother, however, pointing out that he had shown no reservations either.

  “Bah!” was Haranyi’s response. “Valaria may feel that, he was always a good boy, and he may say it in private, but he is becoming mindful of his place in the hierarchy. You’ll see that he is much more circumspect now, in public. Certainly, he will not go jogging around the Residence with you on his shoulders.”

  Jaenna laughed in return. “It has been several years now since I was small enough for that. I can’t fault Valaria if he begs off.”

  “No, I suppose not,” the old Srihani said. “At least he isn’t a debauched ass like so many of the heirs today.” Haranyi put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on out back. I have a small daymeal waiting.”

  “Out back” the house opened onto a shallow bowl, in which a pond was set. A row of trees resembling willows stood on the far bank. On the near bank a table was set at the water’s edge.

  The table was granite, the top polished to a mirror. Three chairs were arrayed around it and looked to have come from the same stone, but that was deceptive. A firm cushion greeted me when I sat.

  The meal consisted of sliced fruits and nuts, complemented by a cold soup. The conversation belonged, almost exclusively, to Jaenna and Haranyi. I might as well have been another chair. It reminded me of coming home from my first semester at school, a recitation of all the events since my departure played back at the table, albeit with a few inappropriate bits snipped out. It was my turn to blush when they fell to discussing our adventures and battles.

  This was odd. Normally, other than telling my own stories, I like nothing better than to hear someone else tell them, especially with suitable embellishments. But this wasn’t going to be a panegyric. They were so caught up in their talk that they seemed unaware of my presence as they dissected my moves and decisions. I thought of a number of uncharitable comments about Monday morning quarterbacks, but left them unsaid. By the time a hot spiced drink arrived, the conversation had shifted to the more comfortable topic of family gossip. At least, it was comfortable for a while. Then Jaenna mentioned Valaria’s comment about Norboh.

  Haranyi’s face darkened visibly at the name and it was a while before he replied. “Norboh had a problem here,” he said carefully. “I don’t know what it was, and anyone who does isn’t talking about it. The fact is, one day he was here, the next gone.”

  “And who was Norboh, and why does it matter?” I asked. Those were my first words since saying hello. Jaenna’s face had already told me that he was someone who mattered.

  “Norboh was one of Tyaromon’s advisors,” Haranyi told me. “He was also one of Jaenna’s first teachers.”

  That figured. “Are you saying that he had a falling out with Tyaromon and got killed for it?”

  “No, not killed.” Haranyi stroked the side of his face, almost absently. “I would know about a killing. Which also means that it was not Tyaromon. The rumor is that his fight was with Valaria.”

  “My brother?” was Jaenna’s shocked question. “What could it have been about?”

  “I don’t know.” Haranyi looked more ill at ease with each passing minute. “I’ve had our forces search for him, but without success. My guess is that he has left the system, which makes a certain amount of sense. If you are going to feud with the heir apparent, it’s smart to leave before said heir is invested with real power.”

  “I can’t see my brother having Norboh killed,” Jaenna insisted. It makes no sense. He has served Kaaran and our family too long and too well. Haranyi, he saved your son’s life, many years ago. You always told me that story when you wanted to make a point about what a debt of honor was.”

  “True. All true.” Haranyi sighed and looked even older. “Unfortunately, it’s hard to repay a debt if you can’t find the creditor.” On that gloomy note, our visit ended.

  We tromped back to the main building, Jaenna out of sorts and me tired and confused. I doubted that I would ever understand life on Kaaran. Too many players, too many motivations that I couldn’t fathom.

  But at least the accommodations were decent. Decent is an understatement. The North guest suite was on the upper floor of the Residence. It was appointed in a manner similar to Tyaromon’s study, but it was huge. We could have lost the entire strike force in it. Windows looked out on a grove of trees whose tops extended far above the roof. I took one good look outside, one deep breath and then collapsed on a low couch. Physically, I’d done nothing the entire day, but I still felt as exhausted as if I’d partied all the previous night and played a game that day.

  “Why don’t you take a nap, Danny?” Jaenna suggested. “We should be at the celebration tonight, and I’m sure Valaria will be back too. In fact, you can count on being at the celebration each night until the ceremony.”

  Somewhere between Texas and the Galactic Empire, I must have gotten old. Usually, just the word party was enough to perk me right up. Instead, I lay back on the couch. My eyelids were closed before she finished talking.

  Chapter 23

  “Danny, wake up,” interrupted my dream. I moaned and turned over, not wanting to give it up. I was directing a winning drive in the Super Bowl in front of a packed stadium and Sam Doroty was the other coach. I wanted to finish that dream. “Danny, wake up.” The voice wouldn’t let me.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The fantasy was gone. I was back in reality, a thousand parsecs from the nearest football field.

  “Danny, tell me what you think.”

  The voice was Jaenna’s, but I had to rub my eyes again, wondering if I had fallen into another dream. Gone was the plain gray shipsuit she always wore. In its place was a filigreed dress of a fabric that lay against her skin without a single wrinkle and changed from translucent to opaque white depending on the angle you were looking. It had a high neck and ran to wrist and mi
d-thigh, but it concealed little. Her slim legs were bare below it and she wore sandals with nearly invisible straps on her feet. A flower made of jewels glittered in her hair above one ear. She was one of Tyaromon’s crystal sculptures come to life.

  What did I think? There was no question in my mind, it just took a long time to get the words out.

  “Jaenna,” I said, “I told you a long time ago that I thought you were beautiful, but this is stunning.”

  “Do you really think so?” She smiled and laughed when I nodded. “Good,” she said. “I had this made nearly two years ago, but I could never get up the courage to wear it in public.”

  An interesting statement that was, coming from my Strike Force Commander. Makes you wonder what courage is anyway. Regardless, that was my invitation to join the celebration. I thought we made an odd couple, Jaenna looking gorgeous and me in my plain old tunic, groggy after only an hour of sleep. Fortunately, Jaenna didn’t seem to mind.

  I need to take a moment here to explain about this celebration. In a typical American wedding, shotgun or otherwise, the party follows the ceremony. Not here. The original custom, as I understand it, was that the son’s family provided an open house for a full day prior to the signing ceremony for the tie. Anyone affected by the tie was welcome. This meant, for example, that if the tie involved the ownership of a farm, then anyone who worked on the farm, or a competing farm, or who bought from the farm could come to the open house. There was no entertainment, simply round-the-clock food and drink and talk. Apparently, it was generally accepted as a time to gorge yourself to the point of bursting while also drinking yourself blind.

  With time, the custom became more elaborate, although the binge eating and drinking remained unchanged. In the modern empire, one day was the minimum time for the celebration. The greater the status of the family, the longer it went, but always around the clock. Instead of an open house, the family would set aside a special room. For multiday affairs, the family would customarily only attend from midevening until dawn, although guests could come by and help themselves at any time. For the son of Tyaromon, heir to a principal world of the empire, the celebration was done on the grand scale. Since two worlds were affected by the tie, technically the whole population of both was invited. This, of course, was impossible, but Tyaromon had opened celebration centers in all the principal cities of Kaaran to increase the number of inhabitants who could attend. The family, naturally, attended the one at the Residence, to which all the aristocracy and hangers-on flocked.

  I was curious to see the room Tyaromon was going to use for this event. There were so many arriving guests, dignitaries from many worlds, delegates from most kvenningari and members of Kaaran’s upper crust, that I doubted any room, even in the Residence, would be able to hold them. As it turned out, there was none. What I had not appreciated from the outside was that the Residence was built around an open courtyard. That is, perhaps, a mild term to use for an area the size of the LA Coliseum, but the size of the surrounding residence made it seem relatively small. The builders of the Residence had taken advantage of a natural depression in the center of their building site. The structure rose from the higher ground around the declivity so that you walked out the door and down a gentle slope. The courtyard was covered with native Kaaran grass, which was a little bluer than I was used to and had broad stubby blades. The engineers had run a little brook through the courtyard and created a small pond near the center. The willow-like trees I had seen at Haranyi’s cottage grew around the pond, and others with multicolored leaves dotted the courtyard. The initial impression was reminiscent of a fall scene on Earth, but I soon found that the orange leaves were every bit as fresh as the green ones. Quite possibly, many of the trees were not native to Kaaran. It didn’t seem reasonable for the courtyard to be open to the weather, but the sky was clear and I could see no evidence of support for a roof, transparent or retractable.

  There were tables laden with all sorts of food and drink. There were, almost certainly, intoxicants other than alcohol as well. Despite the number of people in the area, the acoustics were such that only nearby conversation was audible. Many of the younger, and some of the not-so-young guests, were visibly intoxicated. One was a young Srihani who lay on his back, only a few feet from one of the tables, warbling at the sky. Another had fallen into the pond and was imploring his friends to pull him out and save him. The water where he stood was only hip deep, so they sat on the bank and laughed themselves silly. If there was a drunk on the ground in your path, you stepped over him. If one was toppling over next to you, either you caught him or stepped out of the way to let him fall. No one seemed to care.

  In all that diversity there were only Srihani—not a single member of any other species. I also saw none of the plain gray and black uniforms of the Fleet. I wondered about those absences, but Jaenna I knew, was more concerned with someone who should have been there. Valaria. We made two quick circuits of the courtyard, then cut across the middle and neither saw him nor anyone who had. By custom, Valaria, like the rest of the immediate family, should have been there each night. Jaenna could think of no good reason for his absence and, given the political importance of the event and the additional mystery around Norboh, she could think of many bad ones. Spotting her father, she went off to see if he had any explanation. Since I had no desire to see Tyaromon again that day, I was left to fend for myself.

  A party where there was an endless supply of food and drink and complete license to indulge in both should have been made to order for me. These were not, unfortunately, normal circumstances. Maybe I was just allergic to the Inner Empire, but all those power games going on just out of sight made me uneasy and spoiled my appetite.

  I was standing innocently (I swear) holding a drink when I was accosted by one of the ladies. She came right over to me, took hold of my right biceps, and asked, “Are you Captain Danny a Troy?”

  One quick glance and I had to take a longer look. She was nearly six feet tall, somewhere on the border between plump and stout, but the weight was well distributed. Michelangelo would have approved even if Madison Avenue would not. Broad, rounded hips tapered to a waist that was not thin but still gave a good contrast to the hips. Her lower stomach showed a softly padded bulge which then tucked up smoothly under her chest. Her breasts, oh Lord! A man could easily lose his way and smother in that bosom. All of this was revealingly covered by a gown that differed from Jaenna’s only by the many jewels which were attached to it. Her face, when I levered my eyes up that high, was fair-skinned, with pleasant features and blond hair.

  This was, in fact, one of Jaenna’s older sisters, Couloura by name. I noticed that she didn’t claim an ancestor. Looking at her, I could understand Jaenna’s sense of inferiority if local taste indeed ran to this sort of figure. For myself, I preferred Jaenna, but I could certainly see that Couloura was attractive in her own way.

  My next surprise came right after the introductions. We had scarcely exchanged names and I listened to her say, “Have you tried the Komorralani liquor, Captain Danny?” when she propositioned me. Now, pro football has as many groupies as the rock bands and most of them go for the quarterbacks (hey, we get the headlines), so I was familiar with the situation. What surprised me was the heat I felt rise in my cheeks and my inability to find a ready response. I assume the blush and lockjaw resulted from an internal conflict between my body and whatever excuse for a conscience I have. I may have been horny, but I didn’t want to go to bed with Jaenna’s sister. Lord knows, I didn’t want to be caught going to bed with Jaenna’s sister. With some difficulty, I managed to stammer out a polite refusal.

  “Why not?” she demanded. There was a sneer, I think, on her face. “I can’t believe that you’re satisfied with the Little Gray Wraith.”

  At first, I thought I had run into a peculiar idiom, so I asked her what that was. It was a mistake. It just gave Couloura another chance to sound off.

  “My little runt sister is what that is. She goes around like
a lump in that gray shroud of hers; you could mistake her for the laundry. I’d bet my future children that she hasn’t ever had any and probably wouldn’t know what it was if it dangled in her face. All she’s ever done is tag after Valaria like one of the household pets and if he’d been smarter, he’d have kicked her away a long time ago instead of having to put up with all this talk that he actually listens to her. Of course,” she said coyly, “maybe she’s going to turn out to be of some use after all. Sooner or later, Valaria will want your scalp and, when he does, she’ll give it to him. She’ll do whatever our dear brother wants and that includes betraying her own captain.” Couloura smiled at the expression on my face. “You are still just a freebooter in the empire, Captain Danny, and an indulgence is just that. You’ll make a good prize for Valaria, mark my words, and Jaenna will hand you to him on a plate.”

  I wanted to choke. This had started as a come-on, but Couloura seemed to lose her composure when I turned her down. What had come next was pure jealousy and sibling rivalry. At least, I did not think those comments about Jaenna were intended as an enticement. Probably, Couloura had not intended to say all that, because she tried to rectify the situation.

  “Never mind about all that politics,” she said, “it’s not important. Politics is always maybes for tomorrow. What I can do for you tonight, though, that is important. Don’t you want to find out?”

  I truly did not. Right then, all I wanted to do was run.

  It was Haranyi who saved me. I’m not sure whether it was intentional. All I know is that when I looked away from Couloura hoping to find an escape route, I saw Haranyi standing not ten feet away. Our eyes made contact and he walked over as though he had read my mind. His arrival interrupted Couloura’s attack although, I think, she was loath to give up on me. A succession of expressions crossed her face, ending in resignation. She wasn’t going to intrude on Haranyi. When she was out of earshot, I gave him my thanks.