Impulse

by Dave Bara

  She smiled impishly at me. “What better place? I have a captive audience,” she replied.

  “That you do, madam,” I said.

  “First, I want you to know that this meeting is an informal one to welcome you and your people. There will be no serious exchanges made at this time. Tonight, however, will be a state dinner, and both the prince and princess will be there. This will be a formal occasion and you will be expected to talk business. Don’t be surprised if the prince offers his most serious proposals after dinner in some informal setting, over an after-dinner drink or even during a walk in the royal gardens,” she said.

  “Understood,” I replied. “About the prince—”

  “He is only twenty-one years old,” she continued, “but don’t mistake his youth for innocence. He was well trained by his father in preparation for leading our people.”

  “And where is his father?”

  She grew somber. “Both parents are dead. The mother from complications after the multiple birth, the father just a few years ago from heart disease,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “We have many treatments for heart disease that our Earth friends have given us. We would be glad to share them with you.” She was still smiling, but I could see there was pain behind it.

  “That is something you can discuss with the prince,” she said.

  “You mentioned a multiple birth. Are the prince and princess twins?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “Fraternal, obviously. They are joint regents, but tradition dictates that the male heir controls most of the decision making.”

  I nodded. “Traditions are difficult things to break,” I said. She replied only with a wry smile, then:

  “And one more thing, Sire Cochrane. At some point the prince may propose an alliance, not between our world and your Union, but between his family and yours. It is critical to proper protocol that you do not refuse this proposal,” she said.

  “You mean I have to say yes?” I said. “Tell me you’re not talking about marriage?” She looked at me very seriously.

  “You may conditionally accept,” she said, “Without refusing. This will be acceptable and likely create a strong bond between you and the prince. His family thrives on strong personal connections. Do you understand?”

  “I think so,” I said. “And what of the princess?” At this she stood to go.

  “Treat her with dignity and respect, and you cannot go wrong,” she said. Then she started out the door.

  “Madam,” I called after her. “I don’t even know your name. Will you be at dinner?” She turned halfway back to me.

  “I will,” she said. “And you may know my name then.” At that, she was gone, and I was left alone with my tub of bubbles.

  A few minutes later, I finished bathing, then dressed in one of the formal suits left for me, which fit perfectly, and headed out of the bedroom suite to the living area. I was surprised to find Serosian and Dobrina waiting for me, Serosian in his traditional Historian’s garb and Dobrina in one of the formal female business suits. My two attendant girls giggled again when I entered the room. I quickly shooed them off so we could talk.

  “I see your accommodations were a bit more personal than ours,” said the captain. I shrugged, refusing to take the bait, then sat down on a sofa.

  “They seem to value royalty,” I said dryly. Serosian smiled.

  “They do indeed. Which brings up some interesting questions,” he said.

  “Such as?”

  “Levant was once a republic, back in the old days before the civil war. They seem to have regressed back to a class structure here that favors the monarchy in decision making. That puts them much more closely in line with the old form of Imperial government than with the Union’s system,” said the Historian.

  “Which brings into question how good a match for us they would be,” said the captain. Out of uniform, in her business suit, the captain, no, Dobrina, seemed suddenly much more at ease to me, and much more feminine. It was a development I noted before returning my attention to the conversation.

  “It would certainly be a better situation for Levant to come into the Union than to fall back under Imperial influence,” said Serosian. “Hopefully they can be persuaded to adopt a more open form of government, perhaps even a parliamentary system, as a condition of entry into the Union. Still, a constitutional monarchy is not the worst form of government possible after a century and a half of isolation.”

  “It would be in their favor if they were to adopt more modern practices, both socially and politically,” said Dobrina.

  “They do seem to favor males in most social customs,” I noted.

  “Really, and how have you discovered that?” asked Dobrina, clearly annoyed at the concept.

  “The woman from the station paid me a visit. She explained how things work here in some detail,” I said.

  “How much detail?” she asked. I sensed the slightest bit of jealousy in her, which intrigued me. I ignored the implications and went on.

  “It seems that the prince will likely wish to deal directly with me,” I said. Serosian nodded at this.

  “Your diplomatic skills will undoubtedly be called into play. Prince Katara will likely only negotiate with you because of your royal lineage,” he said.

  “I am no diplomat,” I said. “I’m trained for the navy.”

  “That is a failing of your rather egalitarian upbringing,” commented Serosian. “One we will have to adapt to. You were trained early in your life as to the protocols of royalty, weren’t you?”

  “Only as a necessity,” I stated. “I was the second son, not destined to be burdened with the problems of governance and protocol. So I avoided them as much as I could get away with. My experience in these matters is minimal.”

  “Perhaps it would be better, as mission commanding officer, if I took the lead,” said Dobrina. Serosian shook his head.

  “With apologies, Captain, that seems unlikely,” said Serosian. “Not only does it appear that women carry less authority here, but so does the military. You saw how General Salibi was treated. I think our best bet here is to let Peter take the lead, with me as his attaché, and you as military commander.”

  “That seems to be the structure they favor,” I added. Dobrina shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable with this arrangement.

  “Are you absolutely sure this is the preferred protocol?” she asked.

  “That’s how it was explained to me,” I replied. She crossed her arms.

  “By that woman, whose role is completely unclear and whose standing is completely unclear,” she said.

  “She certainly carried weight with the general,” said Serosian. He paused for a second, eyeing Dobrina, who finally gave in.

  “Very well,” she said. “For the sake of protocol and diplomacy we’ll proceed as you’ve outlined. But I am in military command of this mission, gentlemen, and I will make any military decisions as I see fit.”

  “As you wish, Captain,” said Serosian with a deferential nod of his head.

  At that, a military guard appeared at our door, and we were ushered in to meet Prince Sunil Katara.

  He stood to greet me as I came through the door into a sunny dining room, the table set for six. His handshake was warm and sincere, as was his smile. I found myself taking a liking to him instantly.

  He was indeed young, with the dark skin and features of his countrymen. We were quickly seated at the table, with Katara at the head and me to his right, followed by Serosian and the captain in descending order. To his left was a diplomatic attaché named Kemal, a silver-haired man who had the look of a lifelong adviser about him, and lastly General Salibi, seated directly across from Dobrina with an empty space in between them. It was clear that the military personnel were to be separate from the rest of the discussion.

  When we we
re seated, Prince Katara immediately started in with questions as we were served hot tea, cold fish sandwiches, and assorted pastries.

  “Tell me, Sire Cochrane, what is your formal title?” he asked. I gave him my full peerage, with details as to the length of the family line, and so on. He seemed satisfied that I carried sufficient royal linkages, and once these formalities were out of the way he started asking questions that any young man would ask of another.

  “So tell me of your travels! What new worlds have you seen?” he asked. I was embarrassed to relate that Levant was my first stop in interstellar space, and that I hadn’t even been to Carinthia. He asked me about my shipboard duties, and I related them as best I could without giving away too much. I told the story of how we had entered Levant space and confronted the hyperdimensional displacement weapons left by the empire. This seemed to intrigue him the most.

  “We have been trying to leave our system since before I was born. My father used to tell me about the failed missions. He grieved for every man we lost,” said the prince.

  “Without the help of our Historian friends from Earth I fear we would be in the same situation,” I said. This turned the conversation to more practical matters as the prince addressed Serosian.

  “So I gather your mission to our world then was originally First Contact, and got sidetracked by your encounter with our ‘gatekeepers,’” he said.

  Serosian nodded and smiled. “That was our goal. We came here to offer our friendship, trade, and advice, and hopefully to ask you to consider membership in our Union,” he said. I noted that Dobrina and Salibi had been making small talk that had now ended, their attention focused on our conversation.

  “That is certainly something we are considering,” said Prince Katara. “The benefits of an alliance with your Union could be enormous to us, Mr. Serosian. Perhaps you and Kemal could meet to discuss what form such an agreement would take and we can discuss a formal framework tonight at dinner.”

  After the food was taken away, Prince Katara and I went to some side chairs to talk again while the others continued at the table, working out a framework of cooperation. I was surprised at the light air of the conversation.

  “I was a soccer player at university,” I related in response to the prince’s questions. “Some said good enough to be a full-time professional. But I gave up my apprenticeship after two years to enter the Lightship program the first chance I got. Soccer was my passion, but space was in my blood, and my family’s blood.”

  “My game is polo,” said Katara. “The biggest problem I have is getting a fair game. No one wants to beat the prince’s team.” We both laughed at that.

  After an hour, the prince rose to take his leave and the lunch was over, with a formal invitation to the state dinner at eight o’clock. I of course accepted for all of us, and we departed for my suite, there to debrief.

  Serosian related the diplomatic conversation, Dobrina the military.

  “They want a Lightship if they join,” she said. “I tried to explain to Salibi that we only had three and we were trying to rescue one, but he wasn’t hearing it.”

  “It’s a reasonable request,” said Serosian, “as were most of their diplomatic inquiries. I’ll be receiving a packet from Kemal this afternoon. I’ll know more before dinner.”

  Dobrina nodded. Serosian left then to continue his work as I sank into a large stuffed chair, my eyes barely able to stay open.

  “Sleeping on the job, Lieutenant Commander?” Dobrina said.

  “The Lieutenant Commander is ready any time, Captain. Sire Cochrane, however, is in serious need of another nap.” She sat across from me, her legs crossed, one foot gently bobbing in my direction. For the first time since our battle on the fencing court I saw her again as more than just my commanding officer. She was a woman to me in that moment, one I was finding myself drawn to more and more. Her combination of competence, accomplishment, and physical attractiveness was having an effect on me.

  “And how is it the good captain has so much energy in reserve?” I asked, one eye open and on her. She smiled.

  “Perhaps it’s because I didn’t waste any of my rest time on giggling schoolgirls,” she said back. I took that comment as her fishing for information. I readily acceded to her subtle inquiry.

  “Neither did I, Captain,” I said, looking at her sincerely, with both eyes open. “I’m saving myself for someone special.” This got a rise out of her as her cheeks flushed red, but she had a quick retort.

  “Someone like a princess, perhaps? Or your unnamed bathing assistant?” She seemed perturbed.

  “Captain,” I started in mock protest, “surely you don’t think me so vain and venal?”

  She kept smiling, but then surprised me. “Please, Peter, you may call me Dobrina in social situations.”

  “Is this a social situation?”

  “Well, a state dinner certainly isn’t a military one.”

  “All right then, Dobrina, I have to say that I’m not comfortable with what my social duties may require of me with tonight’s festivities, but I will do all I can to ensure that we complete an alliance with Levant. It seems that we need the allies,” I said.

  “It seems we do,” she agreed, while committing to nothing else.

  “I need allies too. I’m asking you if you will be one with me in these circumstances,” I said. She frowned just a bit at this.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

  I sat up. “Socially, the young duke may be required to do things that the man in me is not comfortable with. I’m asking for your understanding, and I’m trying to assure you that I’ve made no decisions about where my heart lies.”

  Again her face flushed, more broadly this time. She looked at me from across the room for a moment, then answered.

  “Thank you for clarifying things, Peter. But these are matters that are best left to be discussed at a more appropriate time. We’re still in a crisis, and we cannot afford to dawdle here long. I expect you to do whatever is necessary to secure these people’s assistance, nothing more, nothing less, as soon as possible, so we can be on our way and rescue Impulse,” she said. “Everything else will have to wait for another time.”

  “I understand,” I said. She stood to leave.

  “I will leave the young Viscount of Queensland to his rest, and his giggling servant girls. I do suggest, however, that you do rest. You never know, the princess might just be a beauty,” she said, “and that may require all your strength.” She started out the door, stopping only once to turn back and smile at me before closing the door behind her.

  I sighed, then lay back down on the sofa, drifting quickly off to sleep again.

  After a restful nap I repeated the bathing routine, this time by myself, and dressed in the formal dinner wear provided by the palace. The attention to detail by the royal attendants was apparent. All my clothes fit perfectly, even though they had never taken my measurements, and my dinner jacket even featured a version of the Cochrane family crest: Southern Cross of white stars on blue background, vertical chevron of orange, and three boars’ heads on a white standard. The style was out of date but probably accurate for the last time Levant and Quantar had shared diplomatic relations. I had to admit, I was flattered by the effort.

  I met the others, including Marker and Layton this time, in my suite area at 1945. Dobrina was busy checking the enlisted men to make sure they were presentable. Serosian was dignified in his usual all-black and cloak. But it was Dobrina who impressed me the most.

  Her dress was a bright orange-red with gold brocade patterns woven through it. It wrapped around her body in a very flattering, feminine style, and was complemented by a shawl that flowed from her bare shoulders to drape over one arm. She turned to me once she had completed her examination of Marker and Layton. They had done her makeup as well, with dark lines accentuating her eyes in the style I had seen al
l the women here wear. Her hair, although still regulation length, had been manipulated so that it looked very flattering, framing her fine, angled face with small, dark curls.

  I was speechless. I tried to say something but I could only croak out a few mumbled words. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Captain . . . you look, um . . .” Then they all laughed at me.

  Dobrina shrugged. “The service was offered, and I accepted. See what you miss by sleeping the day away?”

  “I do indeed,” I said, smiling my approval. At that Serosian offered his arm to her and we started out of my stateroom.

  Our attendants led us down a long hallway to the rear of the palace, where we had not yet been. The hallway opened up over an enormous ballroom, and we found ourselves looking down on a grand scene.

  The dinner table must have been set for a hundred, adorned with gold and crystal, fine linens, and massive candelabras. It was finery that exceeded anything we had on Quantar. The room was filled with regal dignitaries and their escorts, the men dressed in formal suits, the women in a startling variety of colored gowns in the style worn by Dobrina. There was a buzz of conversation and the gentle clinking of glasses as the guests shared drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

  As we were escorted to the main staircase and down the stairs, an orchestra started up playing music and the crowd broke out in applause. As the leader of our entourage I acknowledged the greeting with a polite wave of the hand, trying to remember my mother’s lessons on royal protocol.

  “You seem far more well versed in this than you let on,” said Dobrina in my ear as she waved to the crowd, still on Serosian’s arm.

  “It must be in the blood,” I deadpanned as we walked down to the table and were seated. This was the signal for the rest of the guests to be seated as well. I sat to the right of the prince’s ornately carved wood chair, with Serosian, Dobrina, and the enlisted men in descending order of rank. We were greeted by Kemal, the prince’s adviser, and his wife, as well as General Salibi and his wife. Both women were pretty, but not overly so, and both worked to make the acquaintance of Impulse’s captain, no doubt another cultural norm on Levant.