by Rob Buckman
“Yes, sir. The last time we managed to nip that little plan in the bud.”
“Yes, we can’t have the Royal Navy building new warships without the Government approval, now can we.” He smiled slightly thinking of the last time the Royal Navy tried that when he was just a lowly MP.
“No, sir. Wantonly spending public fund without prior approval of His Majesties Government is a serious matter and should be looked into immediately.”
“Yes, good idea. Get in touch with the Inspector General’s office and have them put someone on investigating this rumor. Do we know where this ship is being built?”
“Not yet, Mr. Prime Minister, but if it exists, we’ll find it, even if we have to search every shipyard on Earth, and in orbit.
“And if he or she should find something?”
“Then he, or she, has the authority to shut the project down and arrest anyone involved.”
“Including Naval Personnel?”
“Hell yes. Throw them in jail for a while, or better still, go up the chain of command and prosecute anyone, and everyone involved.” The PM snapped. “Let's show those arrogant bastards just who the hell they are fucking with.” The PM’s beefy face took on a reddish hue as he let his emotions get away with him, something he didn’t usually let happen. He was an old political combatant and knew the value of holding onto his temper in the political arena.
This being his third term in office, he’d managed through a variety of dirty tricks to gut the loyal opposition to the point it was nothing but a shadow of its former glory. Through a constant winnowing of his own party, he’d ensured his continued leadership by eliminating anyone who posed a threat to his position. Gradually, all the social and political elements were coming into position for his final move, and he’d be damned if he’d let a bunch of jumped up toy soldiers and sailors were going to screw up his plans. He would be the first President of the Republic of Earth, and send the English Monarchy into the trashcan of history, once and for all.
“How are our plans for nobberling the Royal Navy when the time comes?” The PM looked across the room to the silent, nondescript man sitting on the other side of the room. The PM Chief of security looked up from the report he was reading and gave the PM a tight, thinned lipped smile.
“The R & D weenies have completed the new operating system for all classes of ship.” He straightened up in his chair and leaned forward. “The new hard drive units are ready to ship on your orders, sir.”
“Have them shipped at once. I want all RN ship to have them installed as soon as possible.”
“They might also serve as a deterrent if this rumor of a new ship is correct.”
“How so?”
“If they are building one, they will need an operating system for it. As none of the current ships in service have the new systems, it would be a simple matter to send the trigger code on the RN communications frequency and disable the ship completely. They would never get her off the ground, let alone into space with it installed.”
“Might be a bit premature, don’t you think?”
“No, sir. Any ship that received the new system would simply think it’s just a computer glitch, at least that’s the way it's supposed to look. Just a series of cascading problems with no central point of origin. It’s only when we send the second priority code that the ship’s system shuts down completely.”
“Sounds like a plan. Do it.”
“It’s already underway, sir.”
“Good. The sooner we get control of the RN, the happier I’ll be.”
“That still leaves the question of what to do about the military, and especially the units such as the Royal Marines, SAS, Guards Units, and the Ghurkhas.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been reading your report, and it’s clear that our stalking horses aren’t doing too well on the recruiting side.” The PM frowned at his security chief.
“Sadly no.” He sighed, ignoring the PM’s dark look. “There seems to be a streak of loyalty within those particular units to the King and the Royal family that surprises me.”
“Coming from the Republic of America, your association with Kings and Queens is a long time in the past, and like your forbearers did several hundred years ago, this country needs to get rid of all this bowing and scraping to a bunch of over weaned pompous assess that think they are better than the rest of us.” The PM’s private secretary and his security chief sighed inwardly, knowing from experience when the PM was going to get on his soapbox and start pontificating.
“It’s time that the common man took his place at the helm of the ship of state and march shoulder to shoulder into a bright, happy future. We can no longer afford to carry the so-called elite, self-aggrandizing pretentious upstarts who have the temerity to claim they are the ruling class…”
“Yes, sir. We all understand that, and agree with you.” Gordon Atkins cut in, hoping to quell the long-winded condemnation of anyone he thought was better than he was. Thankfully, it worked, and the PM cut off in mid sentence. The PM gave him a dark look.
“I’ll have you know that was a popular speech.”
“Yes, sir, I am aware of that, and it did go down well with the great unwashed and get you elected… again.” He left unsaid that most of the educated majority had fled Earth for greener pasture on other Planets. Those that were left were too old, sick, or stupid to leave in the first place. The remainder would elect anyone who promised more handouts, unemployment benefits, or free anything.
“I feel it is my duty, even considering your opinion of the Royal Navy, to bring several disturbing items to your attention, sir.” The PM took another sip of his brandy and waved for Gordon Atkins to carry on.
“We have numerous reports from the Department of Transportation concerning an inordinate number of bulk carriers vanishing into the ‘Rift’.”
“Do we now. And pray tell me what we are supposed to do about it?” For a moment, he suspected he knew where the ships had vanished. “Wait! You said the ‘Rift’?”
“Yes, sir. Several of the large interstellar shipping lines have filed reports of missing ships with the DOT.”
“But… but the ‘Rift’ is outside anyone’s territory.”
“No quite, sir. It actually comes under, or is claimed by Avalon, sir.”
“Those damn people!” The PM snapped, thinking of the last Governor he’d sent, who came back with his tail between his legs. “Those stupid colonials and all crazy. Good God, man, they ran the last Governor out at the point of a gun for Christ sake.”
“It could be they have turned their hand to piracy to help sustain their colony. At least two ships were carrying colonist to a new planet in the Taurus System.”
“Colonist?” He asked in surprise. “From where?” Not that he cared, it just meant less mouths to feed.
“Actually, sir, they came from the British Isle, Germany, Australia, New Zealand, Canada,” he coughed, “Western Canada, that is, and South Africa.”
“That is odd… Western you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Humm, that meant no French Canadian’s”
“Yes, sir, you could interpret it that way.”
“What were the other ships carrying?”
“Their cargo manifest showed they were carrying agricultural equipment, industrial machinery, NC machine tools, and general cargo.”
“No exactly high value items, PM.” The Security Chief put in.
“No, you’re right. You expect pirates to hit high value inbound ships.” Gordon Atkins murmured.
“How many ships are we talking about?”
“At least fifty-six at the last count.”
“Good God! That many? You think the shippers would stay clear of the area.”
“Difficult, sir. The ‘Rift’ offers a short cut by jump gate to a vast network of shipping lanes.”
“Damn the man. Why the hell did Max Tregallion have to stumble on such a potentially lucrative planet?” He immediately waved his hand to stop his pr
ivate secretary from answering. “I know, I know. Interstellar survey didn’t think it worthwhile at the time to investigate the ‘Rift’.” He sighed.
“It does pose a problem for Earth shipper, what with Alpha Centauri firmly in the hand of the Sirriens. It’s either pay the high tariff to transship through their jump points or risk going through the ‘Rift’.”
“Hopefully that will all change shortly.” He looked meaningfully at the other two men for a moment. “After that, I’m sure we can come to some mutually beneficial agreement with the Government, if you could call it that, on Avalon.”
“Yes, sir. It’s not as if they have any Navy to speak of, more like a custom and planetary control system, like the coast guard.”
“It’s a pity we can’t send a naval unit to Avalon, to show the flag and all, and remind them they are a Crown Colony.”
“I’ll see what their Lordships at the Admiralty can do about that, sir. I’m sure they have one or two ships that can travel that far without breaking down.” He gave the PM a sly smile.
“See to it.”
“Remember, sir. You have a 10 am meeting with the King tomorrow morning.” The PM immediately pulled a face.
“I hate having to bow and scrape to that man!” He snapped. “The arrogant snot won’t even let me sit! Damn it!” His face reddened again thinking back to his last meeting with the King.
“I’ll like nothing better than to go up there with a squad of policemen and run the whole pack of them out of that Royal Apartment block they live in. All at the taxpaying public's expense I might add.” Gordon Atkins cut him off again before the PM started on another tirade again the Monarchy and all it stood for. Even so, the thought of doing that did bring a smile to the PM’s face for a change.
CHAPTER FIVE:
The Princess Royal was smiling as well, the first time in many days, having just received a message from the Palace Traffic controller. Mike was inbound to the Palace, and her stomach did a flip-flop. She no longer mopped around the Buckingham Palace in moody silence, but rushed around her apartment, opening one draw after another searching for things to wear, and scattering a trail of clothing behind her like confetti. Mary sighed, then smiled tolerantly as she started picking things up. Her baby was growing up. At least this was better than seeing her moping about and snapping everyone’s head off. Gone was the ice-cold exterior, she’d carefully built up over the years, as one fortune seeker after another knocking on her door. She’d quickly learned to see through the facade to the real person behind, finding them all lacking. Mary despaired of her finding the right man, and wondered if she’d end up in some loveless marriage like so many Royals before her. Now it seemed that she had found someone to match her own fiery temper, and control it. At first, she hadn’t really approved of the young man. Seeing him as nothing more than another fortune hunter, a colonial one to boot, but not anymore. He was the real thing, bold, dashing, strong, and compassionate. If half the stories she had heard around the Palace about him were true, he was a young man going places. If so, so much the better. Mary knew something of what the Princess was up to, and knew she would need all the help she could get.
“You know, milady, you could just activate the mirror and see yourself dressed.”
“Oh phooey. It’s not that same. I want to look special tonight.”
“For anyone I know?” Mary asked teasingly. Princess Anastasia gave her maid a dark look, eyebrows scrunching down into a very un-lady like frown.
“You know very well who… whom I am dressing for, Mary.”
“Undressing more likely.” Mary muttered under her breath.
“I heard that!”
“Heard what, milady?” Mary asked innocently, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“I’ve a good mind to cut off your smoke breaks.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t do that, now would you Annie?” She grinned. The Princess sighed.
“No, I suppose not.” She stamped her foot in frustration. “Please help me find something to wear.”
The scout car landed in the reserved parking area behind Windsor Castle, much to the displeasure of the traffic Superintendent. It wasn’t every day that an armed assault vehicle landed here. Hidden weapon emplacements locked on and tracked the vehicle as it came in to land, and remain until the traffic Superintendent cleared the board. He watched on the monitor as the hatch opened, and out stepped a tall young man carrying a small valise. Mike stretched and looked around, seeing the town on one side, open pasture and forest on the other with the river running through the town. To all intense and purposes the place looked defenseless, other than the imposing fortress like building behind him, but looks can be deceiving. Somewhere out there were several hundred SAS and Ghurkha troops lay in hiding. They were just the perimeter guard and there to give warning of any attack on Winsor Castle. The whole area out to several hundred yards was seeded with command-detonated mines, and ever hillock and mound probably hid a defense point with automatic weapon emplacements. The guards marching back and forth in their assigned positions were for show only, and in a few seconds could vanish below ground to their fighting positions. When it came to defending the Royal family, wherever you saw was for show and few, if any saw the layered defense screen that had the capability to stop an army. It spoke volumes to how much the Royal family was taking the threat of war.
Mike only knew a fraction of the measures to defend this place, and others the Royal family might use, and, as a Naval Officer, he was only privy to part of it. The gate guard checked his credentials, and the bag, then saluted and stepped back so he could enter the waiting shuttle car. Palace security cameras followed the cars' movements until it halted beside the rear door of the Palace and the young man exited, presenting himself for the second security check. Again, the Superintendent checked his credential, and the invitation, and did a retinal scan before he opened the security door. The valise vanished down a chute, en-route to a complete scan for weapon, explosives, and biological agents before going on to his room.
“Good evening, Leftenant Gray, you may proceed.” His smile was genuine. His sharp eye missed nothing, including the fatigued look on Mike’s face.
“Thank you, sir.” No sooner had he walked inside when Taffy came running up.
“The jungle telegraph said you’d arrived, and thought I come down to meet you.” He grinned. “How on Earth have you been?”
“Busy, Taffy, news travels fast.”
“Yes, the telegraph is good, God you look beat.”
“It's been a busy time.”
“Any problems?” He looked concerned.
“Yes, a lot, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m sure, but a little help from people in the know might smooth the way over the rough spots. Anything I can do at this end?”
“That’s great, but I’m not sure what you can do, but I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Can’t chat now, the party is waiting, but later, or after breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“Great.” With a wave, Taffy pounded off, and Mike shook his head, wishing he had that much energy then followed the page up to his room.
The party, as it turned out, was much more informal than he’d anticipated, consisting mainly of family members and close friends of the Royal family. In a way, Mike felt a little out of place at first, wondering a little why he’d been invited, except for Ann of course. Between the gang, and the Royal family itself, they soon made him feel at home. The Lady Ann kept her distance, but smiled when he caught her eye, and one time blew him a kiss, taking care no one saw. This was more of a pre-Christmas bash rather than the more intimate party tomorrow. At midnight, they gathered round the tree and sang traditional Christmas carols and it brought back memories of other Christmases at home, and his Grandfather and Avalon. They would be doing much the same soon, but Christmas there wasn’t for another two months, based on Avalon’s calendar. After that, and a few eggnogs, they played traditional games before the K
ing, who’d appointed himself Santa, began handing presents. Much to his embarrassment, he received several himself, but he’d hadn’t brought anything, or so he thought. He received ‘Thank you’ from several people, including the King, the Princess, and the gang. A quick look at the Princess confirmed his suspicions that she was the author of the presents. She smiled innocently back at him, flirting with him with her eyes. The games went on until 2:30 am before the King called a halt.
“Have to make my traditional Christmas address to the Nation in the morning, so I do need to get a little sleep,” he smiled, “but do carry on and enjoy yourselves.”
With that, he waved to everyone and left, but after that, the party slowly wrapped up as the children fell asleep in their mothers, or nanny's arms, as one after the other people said goodnight and drifted off to bed. Mike stifled a yawn, and made his farewells, finding he was nodding off to sleep. He needed a cold shower if he was to stay awake, when, and if the Princess came. The shower did wake him up, and he slid under the warm covers to wait, but that was his undoing. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to relax, or so he thought, and that’s how Ann found him twenty minutes later, sound asleep, his tired face relaxed in sleep. The Princess Royal sighed, but didn’t try to wake him, as much as she wanted to. Instead, she snuggled down beside him, cradling his head in her arms, and just held him. He murmured softly in his sleep as she stroked his forehead, and seemed to relax even more, his arms sliding round her body. It was enough, and she contented herself with just being close, holding him, smelling him, and listening to his gentle breathing. There was always tomorrow night. When he awoke late the next morning, he looked around, groaning, mentally kicking himself for falling asleep. Had she been here? The dent in the pillow next to him said yes, and the faint traces of her perfume told him she had. So why she hadn’t woken him?” The breakfast room was empty when he arrived, but the chief steward nodded as he came in and motioned towards the table. Mike sat, yawning.