The RIM Confederacy Series: BoxSet Four: BOOKS 10, 11, & 12 of the RIM Confederacy Series

by Jim Rudnick

  “Over the past thousand years that the RIM Confederacy has been in existence, there have been two times previously when such a set of events—not exactly the same but similar—have occurred,” he said as he looked at the circled faces around him.

  “First, back six hundred years ago, in the Barony itself, a baron passed away, and his illegitimate son was not as yet born, but he inherited anyways. Yes, there were court battles, and, yes, there was more conversation than one might imagine, but the son was born and inherited the Barony. That would, we feel, press home the point that someone can inherit a Royal title, regardless if the one offering up the title is alive or not.”

  He shuffled down a couple of pages then and stopped once more. “Point two is the case of the Caliph who inherited the title about one hundred and fifty years ago, and it reinforces the same item. Seems that the Caliph in power, with over a hundred wives and perhaps five hundred children, did not want any of his children to inherit the title. So he had his will include a codicil, whereby any Caliphate citizen who could scale their huge Mount Makalu, in less than one day, would be named his son—and inherit. I know, I know, gender specific and the rest of the arguments, but in fact, more than a hundred young men died trying that. But one did make it—the records show that he had nine minutes to spare, but he climbed that solid ten-thousand-foot-high ice mountain in less than a day. And he was named the new Caliph.”

  The attendees were restless, and he realized that, Helena saw, but she did not interrupt him.

  “Yes, I know, but that instance shows us that someone can inherit a title having no regard for any kind of bloodline either. This, too, helps our case,” he said, and he closed the binder.

  “What we have are two precedents for inheriting a Royal title—both from a title holder who was dead. As far as I am concerned, in any kind of RIM Confederacy Supreme Court case, the precedents speak for themselves. The late duke can will—and did will—the title to Lord Scott. If he wants it, it’s his, and I stake my reputation on the court case being settled in Lord Scott’s favor.” He pushed the binder away from him and looked at the faces around him.

  Admiral Higgins cleared his throat. “In the case of the Barony title, the illegitimate son carried the bloodline of the Barony, and surely that fact would make it easier to see as a successful item,” Admiral Higgins said, more as a question than a statement.

  Professor Boven nodded and said, “Yet while that is true, it’s the result of a dead Royal’s codicil. The will has power that the dead Royal no longer has … do you see that, Admiral?”

  Admiral Higgins nodded in response, and the Professor looked around the table.

  Ambassador Bedre nodded too. “I follow and concur, Professor. Your own research backs up our own—there is no way that bequeathing a Royal title in one’s will makes it any less of a normal codicil. As we said months back directly to Lord Scott—if he wants the duchy, it is his,” he said quietly.

  Prime Minister Lazaro spoke up then. “So let me see if I understand this. A person—a Royal in this case—can leave his title to anyone he chooses. And if it is accepted by the recipient, then the title moves to that person. Right?” he asked, his voice slightly up in tone at the end.

  Helena had no idea if Kondo was questioning the right of her husband to accept the title or if he was questioning something of a personal nature.

  “Do you doubt the findings of the Professor, Kondo?” she said, using his first name to be more personal.

  He shook his head. “No, My Lady, not at all … it’s just going to be a real stretch, I think, for most of the citizens of the Confederacy to accept such a thing, I might think,” he said.

  Tanner leaned forward. “That’s even if I do want to do this, Kondo … but the facts are as Professor Boven has presented them. I could take the dukedom and the duchy would be mine,” he said, his voice trailing off at the end.

  Helena knew he’d not yet decided, but she also knew she needed to add just a bit more fuel to her fire. “Admiral—can you see any problems, or troubles, in combining the Barony and the Duchy d’Avigdor from a navy point of view?”

  His head tilted to one side, as he thought about just that for a minute or so, and then he nodded to her. “Ma’am, I see no problems. The Barony has currently almost thirty-three ships now online—the duchy I believe about twenty,” he said as he looked over at Ambassador Bedre and received a nod in response.

  “With over twenty-five thousand Barony Navy personnel plus more than ten thousand marines and air force members, we’d simply add in the duchy forces, and all would be fine. Well, there’d be some hiccups, yes, and some new SOP items to contend with, but on the whole, navy issues are non-existent if the Barony and the Duchy d’Avigdor become one, Ma’am,” he said.

  Having the admiral chime in was a good thing, Helena thought, and she smiled back at him.

  “And Amasis, with its huge manufacturing industry, would you say that the addition of the Duchy d’Avigdor to our realm would cause any kind of economic issues, Kondo? In fact, as we see it, you would become the head of the combined economic faction for this new merge.”

  He shook his head. “No, Ma’am, not in the least. Dover and Waterloo, both duchy planets with big similar manufacturing capabilities like our own, would be a great merge with us. And more than that, we’d be greatly happy to have that extra technical ability as well at our beck and call, Ma’am,” he said.

  Helena checked off the constitutionality checkbox, the military one, and the economic one. All positive and all able to be worked out should there be any arising issues. She looked over at her husband who had sat quietly listening and taking it in.

  He returned her gaze, and she was surprised to see a very slight shaking of his head. “I would like to thank you all for your efforts on this matter,” Tanner said, and he made sure to catch each person’s gaze as he went on.

  “But at this point, I do not want to proceed any further. I have not made up my mind on this matter, and I believe I have, what, about eight more months to make up my mind, yes, Ambassador?”

  The Ambassador nodded his positive response.

  “Fine. Then I’d ask that you please keep this confidential. At this point in time, I’m thinking that I will not go ahead with this acceptance, but the next few months will allow me to make a final pragmatic decision. Thank you all, and especially thanks to the Lady St. August for working so hard to keep this away from me until today,” he said, and he had that silly grin on his face, Helena saw.

  She smiled at him, rose, and took him by the hand as they left the room together … leaving the rest of the group to be shepherded by the EliteGuard colonel who had the task to sneak them all out without anyone seeing them.

  #####

  Bottle was not the kind of planet one would imagine would have large, impressive government buildings and administrative infrastructure, but as the Baroness came down the ramp off the BN Compass, she learned she was only partially correct. Visiting the planet’s actual capital, Corinth, meant she was in unknown territory. She usually visited one of the resorts for a week or two on vacation each year. But today, the Compass had set down at the landing port in Corinth, and she was semi-impressed.

  Ahead of her, the Compass captain led the way down the ramp to meet with the greeting group of Bottle government officials. As she walked in her heeled boots, she was careful of her steps, and she held out an arm for support to the EliteGuard at her immediate left. She’d requested him to be there, and she knew that she looked a bit overdressed, somewhat more girly than usual, and not very confident or authoritative as she walked with slow steps, watching the deck below her feet.

  At the bottom of the ramp, she let go of the guardsman’s arm and stepped forward to be presented by her captain to the waiting officials. A quick glance at them showed her that her opening gambit had worked—they all thought she was somewhat less than her reputation said. She had needed help in walking down a ship’s landing ramp—that worked well, she thought
as she smiled and nodded as the introductions were made.

  The Bottle Premier, one Harley Cooper, still had his one eyebrow cocked as he leaned forward to bow to her.

  She smiled at him. “Premier, so nice for you to come out to meet with me in person,” she said.

  His face showed a painted-on smile as he nodded back to her. “Ma’am, we are honored that you’d visit Bottle, and we’d like to make you feel comfortable,” he replied as he half-turned to escort her to the row of limos on the landing pad tarmac.

  His chauffeur opened up a rear door on one, and she made her way into the comfortable back seat while he went around to the other side and got in.

  She nodded a lot. Oh, she did hear him prattle on about how proud Bottle was that she—well, the Barony perhaps, he said as he corrected himself—had purchased that new resort, were running it, and how successful it was, and how much he’d heard good reports. Blah, blah, blah, she thought and yet continued to smile at him.

  As the limo moved along the small tarmac area, through the gates to the field, and then down a broad landscaped street, she looked out the window and smiled. “Are we going to your offices, Premier?” she inquired.

  He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. We wanted to provide you with an official setting for whatever it is you might want to discuss,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Not needed, really, Premier. Instead, why don’t we just pick out a local restaurant—with a nice outdoor patio—and have lunch together, just you and me?” she said. Her aides had come up with the names of five such restaurants, and she already had undercover EliteGuards at all five, carefully salted with the real customers.

  He looked surprised but then leaned back, and in a few seconds, he replied. “Yes, Ma’am, that would be a nice surprise. Why don’t I see if my aides can arrange just that kind of private lunch at, say, the Gremlin or the NorthSeas—both have great patios—right here in the city?”

  She nodded as he quickly used the limo intercom to get that started.

  The limo went on for a bit and then spun to the left to go down a wide boulevard that paralleled the waterfront. There were enormous hotels on their right and the sea on their left, and she was truly amazed at how beautiful Bottle was. It was a new experience, which she’d missed when she flew in to a resort well to the south.

  As the limo pulled up to a restaurant that rose a couple of stories on their left, the premier spoke again as he hung up the intercom. “Ma’am, we’ve gotten a very private table at Gremlins—this is it. But it’s up on the top—the second floor—and they have no escalator or elevator. Will that be okay?” he asked.

  She smiled at him and nodded. Good to see that he was remembering that she’d needed support—would keep him off balance. She followed him up the outer stairs to the patio.

  After being seated and looking around, she was happy with their location. They sat at a private table tucked into a part of the patio that jutted out toward the beach below with no one closer than at least thirty feet. Seated at the closest two tables were her undercover guardsmen, and no one else sat any closer.

  She smiled at the premier. “This is perfect, Premier. Might I suggest that we forgo any alcoholic beverages at this point and just have something cold? An iced tea perhaps or a fruit-ade of some kind? I’ll leave it to you to choose, ” she said and smiled at him again.

  Showing the premier that she was a woman who relied on a man to make the decisions and that she needed physical support at times were important to her reason for her visit and part of her plan, little did he know.

  He ordered two iced teas, and they sipped on them as he told her about the importance of their tourist-based economy and how it was, again, so nice that she had taken over her new resort.

  She nodded. “Premier, I thank you for the kind words on our recent purchase. As you know, Lord Scott and Lady St. August spent more than two months there for their honeymoon recently—and the remoteness was an important piece of his recuperation from the events at their wedding. But more than that, Premier, is what I’ve been considering since we became the owner of that resort, which is my reason for my visit here today. I want Bottle to join the Barony—and I expect to get a positive answer from you here today,” she said nicely.

  His eyebrows arched up as far as they could go, and an expression of surprise was frozen on his face. This was no surprise to her, but before he could even say a word, she held up a hand to stop him.

  She nodded to the table where two aides sat with two of her EliteGuards, and one of the aides rose to come over to stand beside her. She handed her a fat folder of documents and a tablet and then she retreated to her own table.

  His eyebrows couldn’t arch up any farther, the Baroness thought, as the Premier noted the documents and tablet in front of the Baroness.

  The Baroness slid the folder toward him and then clicked a few buttons on the tablet as a vid began to play. What appeared to be a standard tourist video for Bottle played for a few seconds. A spreadsheet with a report on the planet replaced it. The Premier leaned in to look at it, and once again, she held up her hand to stop him from replying.

  “This is a report about Bottle. Your economy, GNP, planetary debts, and forecasts. Most importantly, we have factual information on your current climate—and upcoming changes to same. You are not a dumb politician, Premier. I know that you have had the same climate forecasts done as we have.

  “I know that the changes will mean that the global warming is only a slight issue but that the rise in sea levels—especially for your huge island resort industry—will be a problem. You know it’s going to mean, in some cases, total island flooding and loss of the major part of the Bottle tourist industry,” she said.

  She stopped, took a long pull of her iced tea, and smiled at him. “Your ice caps are melting at a rapid pace. No one knows why, but I suspect that your scientists have some interesting ideas on your sun and its output perhaps. More than we have, but that’s not important. Your oceans will rise. And the rise in sea level is estimated to be at least four feet and as much as nine feet. Small numbers, it’s true, but it would mean that most island resorts—yes, our own too, will be underwater. Bottle is changing, Premier, we know it. You know it. But we offer a hand out to the planet, if you’d consider this,” she said.

  He gulped some iced tea and just stared at her.

  “Bottle will join the Barony with full realm member privileges. You will retain the premiership for at least, say, ten years as my own contact here. We will, with our newfound riches from our Barony Drive and our Ikarian longevity vaccine, fully support the Bottle economy and bypass any economic catastrophe that you might face. Nothing else will change, Premier—if we help your planet to survive …” she said, and she leaned back to sip her iced tea again.

  He fiddled with his straw in the tall frosted glass and said nothing for a full five minutes. While she wasn’t sure yet about which way he’d jump, she did see that he knew the economic catastrophe would cost him his premiership for sure. He knew that. What she’d offered was a way out.

  “Full membership? Realm status? Seat at the RIM Confederacy Council behind you?” he asked.

  Done, she thought, and she smiled broadly at him and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “Guaranteed, Premier. Welcome to the Barony, and I’ll have my people get in touch soon to get the paperwork started. Now, what’s good here for lunch?” she said.

  He blinked at her and almost stuttered as he reached for a menu and tried to move on.

  The Barony has just grown by one more planet—we’re now eleven and closing on the Alex’n hegemony … with the duchy to be added soon, she thought. I will soon be RIM Confederacy Council chairperson … not too shabby. She smiled as she listened to the premier talk about salads and other menu items he’d recommend.

  #####

  Taking the Sword up to the Hospital Ship had been an uneventful trip, but as Tanner looked out the window from his seat on the starboard side of the cockpit, he realized quickly that h
e missed space.

  The emptiness of the blackness out here on the RIM was one thing, but that made the much fewer stars that he could see all that more important. The giant band of the galaxy was off to his far right, and he always enjoyed seeing that, yet being here on the RIM was somehow better. Somehow more fulfilling, he thought, and as he realized he was starting to reflect more than he wanted to, he snorted out loud, and beside him, his pilot, Lieutenant Cooper, started.

  “Sir, all okay?” he asked.

  “Roger that, Lieutenant—just thinking on something else,” he said as he shook his head.

  No sense in waxing philosophically, he thought as he watched his pilot pivot the Sword so gracefully to port, enter the enormous landing bay, and taxi up to the lit-up landing space reserved for them.

  “Back in a bit, Lieutenant, but you’ve time for lunch if you’d like. Try the CPR Café up on Deck C, near the far left end of the main corridor. It is about the best on the ship,” he added as he left the cockpit of the Sword, moved down the main corridor to the landing ramp, as it now jutted out, and walked down the ramp.

  He grinned right away at Maddie and gave her a big hug, and she squirmed a bit as he did that.

  “Lord Scott, that’s not right, My Lord … you are Royalty and Royalty—”

  “Never gets a chance to be personal, I know, I know, Maddie. But I have missed you and wanted to just say hi!” he said.

  The blush on her face meant much to him, and she looked down at her shoes as she was embarrassed by his display of obvious affection. Their relationship had been pretty intense back some time ago, and she was more than aware that here in the landing port, others might have seen his hug. And while that didn’t worry her at all for herself, she was worried about what it might look like to others on his behalf.