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Master of Formalities

Page 8

by Scott Meyer


  “Yes,” Lord Jakabitus said. “So everyone could see him get pantsed.”

  Lady Jakabitus glared at Lord Jakabitus, then said to Rayzo, “Your father and I are going to have a discussion about this later.”

  “Yes,” Frederain agreed. “Don’t worry, son, we’ll think of a way to straighten you out.”

  Lady Jakabitus ignored him. She put a hand on Rayzo’s shoulder and said, “I’m proud of you, son.”

  “Imagine how proud she would have been if she’d actually attended,” Lord Jakabitus said.

  Rayzo imagined it, and did not like the result.

  “Here they come,” Wollard called out, breaking the tension. He was looking to the sky, shielding his eyes with his hand. High in the stratosphere, a black dot was shooting toward them, leaving a white line of fire and vapor in its wake. It slowed as it approached the ground, and the staff and the ruling family heard the distant sonic boom that had been generated while the craft was still high above the city of Koa.

  The craft leveled out just above the buildings. It was a streamlined metallic lozenge, devoid of sharp angles or distinguishing details, save for the windows. The craft cruised straight through the palace gates, but it decelerated and yawed sideways shortly before reaching the outer gate. The casual viewer might be forgiven for thinking the craft was skidding to a stop, but it was merely turning to afford its important passengers the best possible view of the palace as it continued its approach.

  The craft slowed to a stop, then held its position as firmly as if it were set in concrete, though it was, in fact, untethered and hovering several feet above the ground. Through the craft’s windows, several heads were visible, but the interior was too dark for anyone on the outside to make out details.

  The surface of the craft rippled. A rectangular portion of the outer skin became fluid and poured down from the craft, hardening into a ramp with steps, leaving an open hole into the craft’s interior.

  An armored soldier stepped out into the light, and Wollard and Phee walked out to greet him. The two men spoke in hushed tones for a moment, then the soldier returned to the transport. Wollard nodded to Her Ladyship.

  The soldier reemerged from the transport, this time with Hennik Hahn. The boy was in his midteens (fifteen, they’d find out later), and tall for his age. His build and features were lean and angular, and his pale coloring was of a type never found on Apios. His hair was so blond it was nearly white. He wore a skintight jumpsuit, colored unevenly in patches that ranged from drab to dark. His bearing gave the sense that he felt in command of the situation despite the facts that he was quite young and his wrists were manacled. Behind him, wearing similar clothes and restraints, followed an adult female with sandy-blond hair, darker skin, and downcast eyes. She too was quite tall and thin, though in her case her gauntness seemed more the product of malnutrition than genetics. Another soldier accompanied the woman, leading her by the elbow.

  They walked to the middle of the courtyard in silence. The soldier and Wollard exchanged more words. The soldier shook his head, then manipulated the manacles on Hennik’s wrists. Like the skin of the transport, the manacles became fluid and poured off of Hennik, pooling into a metal ball in the soldier’s hand. The second soldier did the same with the woman’s manacles. The soldiers bowed deeply to Lady Jakabitus, then hustled back into the craft and flew away silently, at great speed.

  Wollard stepped toward Hennik Hahn and said, “Know that two thousand, one hundred, and seventy-one conventional years have passed since the Terran Exodus. Today is the fifty-sixth day of the third month. We meet on the planet Apios, in the inner courtyard of the palace of the ruler, Lady Joanadie Jakabitus. I am Wollard, Master of Formalities for House Jakabitus, and I am honored to welcome you, Master Hennik Hahn, to your new home.”

  Hennik turned to the woman who had been delivered with him and said, “I see the Formalities are just as tiresome on this world.”

  Wollard let this statement pass, as it was not directed at him. “We are sorry for the manner of your transport here. Under better circumstances you would have been conveyed in a manner more in keeping with your status, and you would have been allowed traditional Hahn formal attire.”

  “This is traditional Hahn formal attire. We have fewer inadequacies than others, so we don’t need to hide them with useless ornamentation.”

  “Of course.” Wollard smiled. “As I said before, I am Wollard. I know you are Hennik Hahn, son of Kamar and Inmu Hahn. Your companion is . . .”

  “Irrelevant,” Hennik said, “as are you. Is there anybody important I can talk to?”

  Wollard gestured toward the ruling family. “Lady Joanadie Jakabitus, ruler of Apios and your adoptive guardian, is waiting to meet you.”

  “She’ll do,” Hennik said, barging past Wollard on a direct course for Her Ladyship. The Hahn servant made brief, but distinctly apologetic, eye contact with Wollard, then followed Hennik.

  Wollard and Phee moved quickly, and were able to reach Lady Jakabitus at the same moment as Hennik did.

  “Your Ladyship, please allow me to introduce Master Hennik Hahn. Master Hennik, this is Her Ladyship, Joanadie Jakabitus, ruler of Apios.”

  Lady Jakabitus smiled. “Welcome, Hennik. We hope you will be comfortable here.”

  Hennik made no effort to bow. He looked Lady Jakabitus directly in the eye and said, “My father tells me that you’re silly and weak.”

  If Lady Jakabitus was pushed off balance by this comment, she didn’t show it. “Hennik, your father and I have never met.”

  “Which makes it all the more impressive that he has you figured out.” Hennik turned and looked at Lord Jakabitus. “Who’re you?”

  Wollard deftly ducked around and behind Hennik, moving to his other side before bowing and saying, “This is Lord Frederain Jakabitus, Lady Jakabitus’s husband.”

  “My father never mentioned you,” Hennik sneered. “Clearly, he considers you a nonfactor. And you?” he asked, turning to Rayzo.

  Wollard said, “I introduce Master Rayzo Jakabitus, Her Ladyship and His Lordship’s son and heir.” Hennik stepped in front of Rayzo, much closer than any Apiosan would dare. Hennik was a bit older and a bit taller. Rayzo looked up at him and said, “Hello.”

  Hennik laughed. “No wonder they wanted a replacement.”

  Wollard said, “Perhaps I should introduce you to the staff.”

  Disregarding Rayzo, Hennik stalked off toward the staff, followed by Wollard and the Hahn servant. Lady Jakabitus put out a hand to block Phee from following. It was unusual for her to address Phee directly, but Wollard was busy.

  “Is this the Hahn honesty we were told to expect?”

  Phee avoided eye contact. “I’m afraid so, Milady.”

  “And Wollard knew about this?”

  “No, Milady. It’s not my place to say, but at the briefing this morning he had no more reason to expect this behavior than you did.”

  “Tell your mentor that we will have words. Soon.”

  “Yes, Milady, but I suspect he knows.”

  Wollard, meanwhile, bowed, flourished, and said, “Master Hennik, it is my pleasure to introduce the Jakabitus family’s personal staff.”

  Hennik surveyed the six people lined up before him, an amazed look on his face.

  “Pathetic,” he spat.

  “I believe you’ll find them more than adequate,” Wollard said.

  “You’re mistaken.”

  Hennik approached Glaz at the head of the line. She was a woman of substance. Middle-aged, but not old. Direct, but not unpleasant. She was the kind of person who commanded respect from strangers and loyalty from friends. Hennik smiled at her.

  “Master Hennik, I present Glaz, the palace expediter.”

  Glaz bowed and said, “Master Hennik.”

  “I will never remember your name,” Hennik said, then moved on to the
next person in line.

  Wollard said, “I present Hartchar, Master Rayzo’s, and soon-to-be your, chief trainer.”

  “You are physically intimidating,” Hennik said, “We’ll see if you can back that up.”

  “Yes, we will, Master Hennik,” Hartchar said.

  Moving on, Wollard said, “I present Barsparse, the palace chef.”

  Hennik said, “I’m told Apiosan food is swill.”

  “I assure you,” Wollard said, “Chef Barsparse is one of our world’s finest chefs.”

  “The best at making terrible food,” Hennik said. “You must be so proud.”

  Wollard gestured toward the sous chef. “I present Pitt, the sous chef.”

  “I will never remember your name.”

  “This is Ebbler, deliverer of edibles.”

  “I will never remember your name.”

  “This is Shly, deliverer of liquid refreshment.”

  Hennik took a moment to study Shly before speaking. “You, I may use as a toy. It will mean nothing to me, but it will be a great honor for you.”

  Wollard changed the subject before Shly could respond. “There is also Umily, who tends to the ruling family’s personal needs. Sadly, I cannot introduce you to her at the moment.”

  “Why not?”

  Wollard paused. “Because she’s not here.”

  Hennik said, “She’s already my favorite. It’s a shame the rest of you didn’t follow her example.”

  “She isn’t here,” Shly hissed, “because she just found out her husband was killed by the Hahn.”

  Hennik considered this. “Sorry. I take it back. It’s a shame the rest of you didn’t follow his example.” With that, he stepped back from the assembled group and cleared his throat, then launched into a clearly rehearsed statement.

  “I understand that I am to be treated as a member of the Jakabitus family. I am aware that this is an alternative to killing me as a punishment to my father, the magnificent Kamar Hahn, ruler of the Hahn home world. I reluctantly thank you, and grudgingly admit that being treated as a member of your ruling family is marginally superior to execution. I accept your hospitality and will expect to be treated well, but know that I despise you, one and all, and will never stop plotting escape and revenge. Now, I am tired. Show me and my servant to our quarters.”

  Lady Jakabitus nodded, and Wollard led Hennik away. Phee bowed to Her Ladyship and followed. The Hahn servant followed as well, but turned, walking backwards. She bowed so deeply she looked as if she might fall over and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  PART 2

  Communication is unavoidable.

  Making a statement tells others about one’s thoughts and feelings. Not bothering to make a statement also tells others about one’s thoughts and feelings.

  -Excerpt from The Arbiters’ Official Guidelines Regarding the Maintenance of Proper Form When Expressing Sympathy to the Sick and Injured

  10.

  “Know that two thousand, one hundred, and seventy-one conventional years have passed since the Terran Exodus,” Wollard said. “Today is the fifty-seventh day of the third month. We meet on the planet Apios, in the servants’ hall of Palace Koa, the ancestral home of House Jakabitus and its matriarch, Lady Joanadie Jakabitus. I am Wollard, Master of Formalities for House Jakabitus, and I am currently delivering the daily meeting to the palace staff.”

  Wollard looked out over the staff, then plowed into his synopsis of the day’s business.

  “As we all are aware, Umily’s husband and Barsparse’s former sous chef, Gint, was killed in action by members of the Hahn military. We all grieve for him. Umily has been temporarily relieved of her duties, and will be given all the time she needs to compose herself.”

  Wollard took a breath, then moved on to the next item. “Today we welcome a new staff member: Migg, who arrived with Master Hennik last night. I’m certain you will all join me in bidding her welcome.”

  Unconvincing welcomes were muttered in Migg’s direction. She sat at the back of the group, still wearing her skintight, drab yet shiny Hahn uniform. She took up little space, made no noise, and utterly dominated everyone’s attention.

  Migg raised a single finger and said, “Query?”

  Wollard smiled. “Recognized, Migg.”

  “May I please say a few words?”

  “Of course.”

  She was a tall woman, but she seemed somehow smaller when she stood up. Her eyes traveled around the room before returning to the floor, where they stayed as she addressed the group.

  “I just want to say that I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for what happened last night. I’m sorry that I’m making you all uncomfortable in your own home. And I’m sorry your friend’s husband was killed by someone from my world. I’m sorry, but I’m also grateful to be here, and to be alive. Thank you.”

  Migg sat down, and Wollard performed his primary function, knowing how to react when others don’t. “Last night’s formal introduction was not entirely successful,” Wollard continued, “and the situation in general could be described as suboptimal, but that should not reflect negatively on Migg. She did not ask for this situation. She is now a member of our team. Migg will be acting as Master Hennik’s valet, meaning that instead of interacting directly with Master Hennik, we will often be dealing with her instead. Again, I say, welcome, Migg.”

  The staff again muttered words of welcome. Wollard noted that this time they sounded more sincere.

  “Glaz will be orienting Migg today—giving her the grand tour, showing her how we do things at Palace Koa. Shly and Ebbler will pick up Umily’s duties. There will be the regularly scheduled postbreakfast briefing for Her Ladyship, and Masters Rayzo and Hennik will attend sports practice after lunch.

  The entire staff pictured Hartchar practicing with Master Hennik. The idea of it made them all happy. Particularly Hartchar.

  “Query.”

  “I recognize Barsparse.”

  “Would it be acceptable if we all rearranged our schedules to be available to watch Master Hennik’s first practice? I could whip up some snacks.”

  Wollard said, “No. I’m sorry, but we don’t want to make Master Hennik uncomfortable on his first day.” This was a rare instance of Wollard telling an obvious lie, but nobody blamed him for it.

  “Indeed, there will be a feast tonight to welcome Master Hennik into the Jakabitus family. Dignitaries planetwide will attend. It will be a formal occasion, and while the Formalities will meet the Apiosan cultural norm, the feast’s main course will be Master Hennik’s favorite Hahn dish, which will be prepared manually for the Jakabitus family and replicated via bulkfab for the guests, in the name of expediency.”

  “Wow,” Ebbler muttered. “That should be something.”

  Barsparse mumbled, “Yeah, something,” then, louder, said, “Query?”

  “Again, I recognize Barsparse.”

  “Do we know what that dish is yet?”

  “Sadly, no,” Wollard said. “Unless Migg has some idea.”

  All eyes turned to Migg, who shook her head. “No. I am sorry. Master Hennik has never been anxious to discuss things he likes.”

  “I see,” Wollard said. “I shall discuss the matter with Master Hennik at the soonest opportunity. In the meantime, I have asked Phee to liaise with the Arbiters to acquire information about Hahn culinary techniques.”

  Phee said, “I will forward the report to your papers as soon as I receive it, Chef.”

  Wollard said, “Splendid. On that subject of research, Phee and I have had more time to study Hahn culture. It seems there is a fundamental difference in our two worlds’ social structures. As I said, they value total honesty, but the differences run deeper than that. On Apios, we measure a person’s worth by how useful they are. Migg, it may surprise you to hear that Lady Jakabitus considers herself to be a servant of the peopl
e.”

  Again, all eyes turned to Migg. “That, wow!” she stammered. “Really?”

  “Indeed,” Wollard agreed, “for it seems on the Hahn home world, one’s status is demonstrated expressly by inconveniencing others. The more people you can inconvenience, the higher your status. Have I been misinformed, Migg?”

  “No. That’s right.”

  “How many staff members does the Hahn ruling family household employ?”

  Migg said, “Several hundred. I don’t know the exact number.”

  “As I thought,” Wollard said. “If a person is capable of doing a job, they have another person do it instead. If the job is unpleasant or dangerous, others line up to watch. It’s a different culture. This, I think, goes a long way to explaining why Master Hennik was . . .” Wollard paused, looking for the right words.

  “Such a hateful little turd,” Migg said.

  Yet again, all eyes turned to Migg.

  She shrugged, “Total honesty flows in both directions.”

  “Indeed,” Wollard said.

  After a brief discussion of a few administrative odds and ends, Wollard adjourned the meeting. Glaz stood, rubbing her hands together with relish. “All right. It looks to be a good day, full of work to be done. We’d best all get to—Umily!”

  Everyone followed Glaz’s eyes to the door, where Umily stood. Though her hair looked slept on and her uniform looked slept in, she did not, in fact, look as if she’d slept. Her eyes, still red and puffy, were streaming with fresh tears.

  “Good morning, Umily,” Wollard said, keeping his tone level.

  “He’s alive,” Umily said, holding her papers up for everyone to see. “I just got a letter from him, sent this morning. Gint’s not dead!”

  The palace staff rushed her, expressing delight, relief, and a strong desire to read the letter. Wollard watched the outpouring of emotion from a dignified distance. He was pleased to note that Phee was standing beside him. She was maintaining her decorum, but she was clearly ready to jump out of her skin with excitement. Wollard nodded to her. She smiled and walked over to the group at a dignified pace.

 

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