by CJ Williams
He didn’t get any further. Sunchall leaped into the air and planted one foot on the guard’s breastplate. Using it as a stepping stone she climbed onto his shoulders and wrapped her other leg around his neck and then threw herself toward the floor, pulling him over. On the way down she continued to spin, winding up on his chest as he hit the marble tiles with a crash. Before he could react, Sunchall had cold cocked him with his own truncheon and then bounded to her feet to assume a protective stance in front of Carrie.
Carrie was impressed. “Who was your instructor?” she asked interestedly. The girl flicked a glance at Choego. Carrie chuckled and turned back to the guard captain.
“The women stay close to me.” She looked at the lead guard once more. “Let’s go!” The man hurried down the hallway in the direction he’d been headed. Jeff, have a doctor check out that guard. Make sure he’s not injured. Carrie hoped that Sunchall had been smart enough not to seriously hurt the guy.
A moment later one of her guardsmen opened two wide doors into the banquet hall. There were four rows of round tables on the main floor, and at the far end of the room a large rectangular table sat on a raised stage. Heavy blinds covered the windows, only letting in thin streams of sunshine. The sunbeams illuminated floating specs of dust. The air was cold and everything was covered with cobwebs. The ballroom had been unused for quite a long time.
“Jeff. Get some housekeepers in here to spruce this place up. Guard Captain, have your men open the windows. We need a little daylight.”
The guard captain was learning. He shouted orders and in no time the sunlight was reflecting off tarnished fixtures. To alleviate his bruised ego, Carrie stood next to him and listened to his thoughts about setting up a protective perimeter around the room. He had several good ideas and she asked him to take care of it. She added a warning not to impede any of the department heads as they arrived.
The first few showed up, huffing and puffing. She had the early arrivals help her move the head table from the stage down onto the main floor. They were agog at having to do such manual labor, but she ordered them about sternly.
Several cleaning maids arrived and Carrie put them to work dusting off the tables and wiping things down. She stopped them from sweeping because she didn’t want the hall filled with dust.
Tolliver appeared, his face reflecting bewilderment and frustration. Carrie wasn’t sympathetic. When he tried to voice his concerns, she pulled him by the elbow and made him sit at the head table with instructions to count the department heads as they arrived. It wasn’t that she cared how many showed up, she just wanted him out of the way.
People continued to enter the hall and the buzzing of a confused crowd was beginning to grow.
Carrie stepped onto the stage and stomped her feet for attention. The guard captain took the hint and cried out for silence, his command voice cutting through the noise. The people filling the room obeyed and Carrie sensed they were dying to know what was going on. Many were wondering who was the strange old woman giving orders to everyone. Carrie made a note that she needed to take some time and adjust her appearance. If she was going to play the part of a princess, she might as well look like one.
She motioned to the captain to join her on the stage. He bounded up and assumed a position of attention at her side.
“Introduce me,” she said. “They don’t know who I am.”
“Yes, Highness!” he replied obediently, stomping his feet like a Prussian general. He faced the crowd. “Attention!”
The room quieted and the captain barked at his guards to forcibly seat anyone who remained standing. While they did so, Carrie saw the captain muttering under his breath. She realized he was talking to JF307.
Once the room was quiet, he began again. “Attention! I have the honor and the duty to introduce to you Her Royal Highness, Princess Paeli Pokeuneo the First, by the Grace of God, of Japurnam Five and the Nobility Dominions beyond the Stars, Defender of the Faith, Sovereign of the Most Excellent Order of the First Family Empire, Sovereign of the Most Ancient and Noble Order of Lavender of Mars of the Ancient System of Sol and the Dominion of the Milky Way Alliance, and Third Daughter and Beloved Heir to the Great and Royal and Most Noble Monarch of the First Family and His Majesty the Great and Honorable King Peyha the Second!”
With that the Captain dropped to one knee and bowed so low that the top of his helmet touched the floor. In an instant, everyone in the room bowed obsequiously.
Carrie gaped in surprise, taken aback by the Captain’s long-winded introduction. She had expected something like, Hey everyone, listen up to Princess Carrie.
She closed her mouth and tried to look regal. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you. Please rise. Thank you.”
The captain vaulted to his feet and others also rose, but more slowly. People already in the room hissed at those who were still entering, forcing them to drop and bow, while no doubt wondering what was going on. “Would you get me a chair, Captain?” Carrie asked.
The captain barked an order to one of his men, but Tolliver hustled over to intercept the men, whispering to them urgently. The guardsmen looked shocked, nodded, and left the room at a dead run, motioning at two others to follow. The captain groaned as though he had forgotten something important and cast a worried look at Carrie.
She shrugged, wondering why getting a chair was such an ordeal.
A moment later the guardsmen returned, supporting an ornately decorated wide bench between them. It was a throne, probably hustled over from a throne room deep inside the palace. They placed it on the stage and stood back at attention.
Carrie tried not to look like a hillbilly. She nodded her thanks to the captain and took her seat. The throne, more of a wide bench with high, straight back, was hewn from a deep red material that felt like ivory. The entire surface was covered with intricate carvings depicting fearsome winged creatures with shark-like teeth. Carrie felt woefully underdressed to occupy such an elegant, if ugly, chair.
Tolliver bustled from one table to the next. Carrie realized he was having the department heads sit in functional groups. An all-the-gardeners-here, all-the-plumbers-there kind of thing. That would be helpful.
Well within the one-hour time limit, everyone was in their appropriate place. Carrie stood and everyone in the room rose to their feet. The buzz of whispers grew silent. Carrie spoke to Tolliver. “I’m going to greet all the department heads personally,” she said. “You will precede me and introduce each one by name.” She gave him a stern look that would brook no argument.
“Of course, Highness.” He turned and walked to the first table. As Carrie followed Tolliver, Choego and Sunchall followed Carrie, one step behind. Two other guardsmen fell in behind them. It was quite a retinue. When Carrie approached the first table, everyone looked very nervous.
The first individual was an elderly gardener. “Highness,” Tolliver said. “This is gardener Wonsa.”
“My lady,” Wonsa said, bowing stiffly, his old bones not very limber.
Carrie took his hand in both of hers and smiled. “Hello, Wonsa. I’m pleased to meet you. How are the gardens?”
“Fine, milady. A bit dry this year. Not as much color as we usually get.”
“How often do you water them when it’s dry?”
“Every third day,” he said quietly. Carrie detected a bit of sorrow in his voice.
“Well, from now on, water them as much as you think necessary. Nice to meet you, Wonsa.”
She stepped back and glanced at Tolliver, who moved to the next person—a woman, and also a gardener. “Highness, this is gardener Jeong.”
“My lady,” Jeong said with a curtsy.
Carrie took Jeong’s hand. “What about you, Jeong? Any problems this year aside from water? Tell me, how old are the garden tools you use?”
For an hour Carrie went from one person to the next. She spoke to each individual while clasping their hand in hers, asking two or three questions, on a couple of occasions even more. By the time she f
inished speaking to each person in the assemblage she knew a lot about the estate and the people who ran it.
Governor Lindsey had taught her the technique; he had once been an inspector general in the military. He said that if you asked a few basic questions to several hundred soldiers, you knew what was going on in the unit.
Carrie came to several conclusions. First was that they were generally good people, knowledgeable and dedicated. Second was that a few of the managers probably had to go. The palace supply director was crooked; the senior security director was not just incompetent, he was evil, and a mid-level woman in beds and linens was repeatedly short on her inventory.
Tolliver, while honest, was unfortunately in a job beyond his capability. Most delightful, the little old gardener to whom she first spoke knew his stuff and was beloved by all other gardeners. Unfortunately, he was too old for the job he was trying to do. Carrie didn’t care about that. Loyalty was a precious commodity to her. She would promote him into a special position where he could keep gardening, but with a junior assistant to do the hard labor.
Returning to the stage, Carrie gazed at the crowded room. One thing that surprised her was the affection being directed her way. Almost everyone in the room was thrilled that a royal had returned to the palace and even more that she had taken time to speak with each of them personally. It was an event that would go down in their family history as a treasured memory.
It was too bad that she would have to shatter one of those dreams so quickly. She had no plans to stick around long. Nothing about her living in the palace was going to stop the Bakkui’s advance toward Earth, nor her from going after them.
She gestured for everyone to be seated. They needed some coaxing because protocol meant they had to stand if she did, but she was too nervous to talk to the crowd while seated. She needed to pace.
“Thank you for your friendly welcome,” she said once they were settled. “I am sorry it took me so long to arrive. You, whose duty is to care for the royal family, deserve to know why. The reason for my absence is that my father, the great King Peyha, has personally placed upon me a royal duty to seek out and destroy the Bakkui. How many of you have heard of the Bakkui?”
Carrie was a bit surprised that very few had any idea what she was talking about. In that case, she would not go into detail at this time.
She continued. “Suffice it to say that the Bakkui are a threat to our empire. By my father’s command, I have dedicated my life to eradicating that threat. I will tell you more about them in the future. Second, I want you to know that the next task of my royal mission is to find Princess Gimi. I promise to make sure she is healthy, and if she desires, to assist her return to this wonderful palace on Japurnam Five.”
The words brought smiles to everyone’s lips. Princess Gimi was clearly loved by her subjects.
“Thank you again,” Carrie concluded. “I am so grateful for your service to my family and I will work hard to deserve the love you have shown me today. Please return now to your duties.”
Carrie nodded at the guard captain for him to lead the way out of the room. They escorted her back to her chambers where she collapsed onto the bed. The introductions had taken more out of her than she had expected, as had the sudden change in her situation. This morning she had owned a pub. This afternoon she owned an empire and the items on her to-do list were stacking up.
The ladies-in-waiting reappeared and made a fuss over nothing in particular. This time Carrie, didn’t shoo them away. It was easier to ignore their chattering. She lay on the bed with her eyes closed and concentrated on bringing calm to her swirling thoughts. Mentally reviewing the meeting, she recalled everyone’s surprise at her seeming advanced age.
She had to do something about her appearance. The quick cleanup of the banquet hall had left her coated with dust. Although she had just had one, a peaceful shower would make her feel better.
This time, however, the shower proved non-negotiable. Her attendants prepared a hot bath instead; that way they could help. They scrubbed her back and shampooed her hair. After toweling her off, they wrapped Carrie in a comfortable robe and sat her at a luxurious vanity so they could brush her hair.
Carrie ignored their ministrations and stared at her worn face in the mirror. It was time to start repairing some of the damage. She concentrated on the lessons that Dr. Owens had given her. The wrinkles around her eyes were the first things to go, then she filled out the artificial hollowness in her cheeks and smoothed out the skin on her forehead. She applied the same treatment to her hands. Her fingers softened from the bony appendages of a barmaid back to the long, slender digits that she used to know.
The rest of her body, always hidden under her long granny dresses, needed no sprucing up. Her hair was a different matter. What to do? No doubt her handmaidens could find a rinse to get rid of the gray, but she wasn’t in the mood for fooling with the inevitable drippy mess.
On her own, she could revert it back to its natural dark auburn color; it would just take a few days. That would have to do. Her ladies, murmuring approval as her looks changed, finished brushing out her locks and wound it up into a topknot that looked slightly more formal than the bun she was used to.
Carrie looked out of the window. The sun was casting shadows of late afternoon. She needed to get back to the bar. For one thing, if people thought the Secret Police had spirited her away permanently, they might go through her belongings. She couldn’t afford to lose the plastic design specs. She ordered her attendants to dig out a set of clothes for the outing, something comfortable.
“Jeff, have someone prepare transportation for me. I need to go back to my pub for a few minutes.”
“Acknowledged.”
This would be an interesting test, she decided. The car better be ready. She wasn’t in the mood to explain her every whim. If they wanted her to be a princess, they would have to accommodate the way she did business and not the reverse.
She walked into the hallway and nodded at Choego and Sunchall. “We’re going for a drive,” she said. The guardsmen obediently fell in trail.
Carrie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the convoy ready and waiting for her arrival. She had forgotten to mention that a battalion-size escort wasn’t necessary but she didn’t feel like arguing that a dozen cars might be overkill. Until she knew more about the threat, she could live with this bit of pomp and circumstance.
Inside the limousine, she settled into the back seat. Choego and Sunchall sat across from her, facing backwards. Carrie questioned them both.
“Either of you married? Steady boyfriend maybe?”
Choego had been married but her husband had passed away years before. Sunchall had recently broken up with a boyfriend. Carrie inquired about their living arrangements. They each had a place in the city; Choego lived by herself and Sunchall had a roomie.
“Any problems moving into the Palace?” Carrie asked. “I don’t want to wear you guys out.” Her new bodyguards thought it was a great idea. “Once we get back, we’ll check into that. No sense in you guys just hanging out in the hall all day long. I’m assuming the other guards have been changing out now and then.”
Sunchall’s relief at the idea was evident. She had no skill in masking her emotions.
“Jeff, when we get back, I want to upgrade my chambers to a suite, not just a bedroom. I want something that has a living room and an office. I also want a spare room where the girls can rest and have a bite to eat. That way, they can be at ease when guarding me and I’ll have a little privacy when I want it. And they’ll need quarters close by.”
Acknowledged.
*.*.*.*
“This will be interesting,” Carrie said as the convoy pulled up in front of her pub. The parking lot was empty. The early morning’s arrival of the Secret Police hadn’t done anything to help business. Before Carrie could say otherwise, a half dozen royal guardsmen had charged through the front door.
Carrie followed at a more sedate pace. Inside, her terrified b
armaid stood behind the counter. Sitting at one of the tables was Germander, looking as though he wished he was somewhere else.
“Hi, Germander,” Carrie called out airily. She irrationally enjoyed his discomfiture. “Sit right there for a minute; I have an update for you.”
Chuckling to herself, Carrie hurried upstairs and several guardsmen followed closely behind. She ignored them and stuffed a few clothes into her old duffel. She had thought about getting rid of the bag from time to time, worried that Nike swoosh might look alien. But it was a bit of home that she might never see again. That made it a treasured possession.
From her wardrobe, she pulled out the plastic block of yacht specifications. It seemed pretty big for a thumb drive type of device but what did she know? It could very well have the Library of Congress included. The Nobility AIs certainly had vast reservoirs of knowledge.
Lastly she had one of the guardsmen pick up her strongbox. Downstairs once more she stopped to add Teeny Jim to the duffel. “You’re coming with me, big guy,” she told the bear. She turned to her barmaid. “Are you doing okay, Ismeral?”
The girl was close to tears, overwhelmed by the presence of the royal guard and Carrie’s changed appearance.
“I don’t know,” Ismeral whimpered.
“Listen to me,” Carrie said while removing all the money from the till and from a small cash box hidden under the back cabinet. “Take this money. As you can see, my circumstances have changed and I have to concentrate on other work now. If you want the pub, it’s yours. But you should close down today and go home and consider all your options. It might be better to take the money and not look back. If you have family, you could go stay with them. These guys are the royal guard and they won’t give you any problems, but I can’t vouch for the local police or anyone else. Think carefully and decide. Here’s the keys. Now give me a hug and get out for tonight.”
Ismeral’s eyes were wide and she appeared to be in a daze, but she took the money and stuffed it into her bag, clutching it tightly as she fled the establishment. That left one more loose end.