One small saving grace was that he could make tea or coffee in the kitchenette, and even knock up some bacon and eggs if he got peckish. The only feature that was a little off putting was the knowledge that there was an armed Swiss Guard at his door. Knowing a little of their mercenary history and reputation, he decided against storming out the door and making a run for it. Well, for the time being anyway. Instead, he decided to make some tea.
A gentle and seemingly polite knock at his door during the second sip of his freshly made cup of tea startled him, and he managed to spill a little on his relatively clean t-shirt. Then getting up too quickly to answer the door resulted in a more substantial spill on the small table onto which he had tried to set down his teacup. Finally giving up on managing the minor flood and deciding to leave it until later to attend to, he went to the door.
‘Hello Halbert,’ a man of fine cut and probably in his mid-forties said as Hal opened the door. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’
‘Er no, I was just having tea.’
‘Well, sorry anyway. Look, my name’s Everett Emberly and I’m your Praefectus Socium. Can I come in?’
‘You’re my what?’
‘Your Praefectus Socium. Sort of like your school prefect.’
‘Well, that helped. I suppose you’d better come in then,’ Hal said as Everett entered and Hal closed the door. ‘Take a seat, I just need to clean up a little accident,’ he said as he went to the kitchen to fetch a cloth. ‘I was just having a cuppa, would you like one?’ Hal asked as he wiped up his mess.
‘Thank you, if it’s no trouble.’
‘No trouble at all.’
Hal took the wet wreckage of his cup and saucer to the kitchenette to start again. The distant sound of a cup smashing to the floor, plus a sneezing fit, led Everett to believe that his acceptance of a cup of tea might have been a little more than no trouble at all for Hal. However, within ten minutes Hal returned with a tray complete with a fresh pot of tea, cups and saucers, sugar and milk.
‘Sorry, I don’t have any biscuits,’ Hal apologised as he set the tray on the table, only spilling a small quantity of milk in the process.
‘Oh that’s fine. Can I pour?’ Everett suggested, noticing that Hal was not the most dexterous person he’d known around hot liquid.
‘If you like,’ Hal said with just a little hint of disappointment.
‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here?’ Everett asked as he poured.
‘Well, who would be a good start.’
‘Oh yes, I should explain. I’ve been charged with your induction process. You know, to make sure everything goes along swimmingly for you. We all get a touch nervous at the very beginning, so I’ll be around to hold your hand so to speak. Show you the ropes.’
‘Are you a member of this Star Chamber group?’
‘Yes, my ancestry goes back to the original members of the Camera Stellata.’
‘And how long have you been, eh, a member?’
‘Oh about ten years now. All came as a bit of a shock really. My father accidentally electrocuted himself in the bath, so I was thrust into this at an early age like you. That’s why I’ve been chosen as your Praefectus Socium I believe.’
‘Did you play rugby Everett?’
‘Actually, yes.’
‘What position?’
‘Fly half.’
‘Right.’
*****
Although tempted once or twice, Hal gave up on the idea of tackling the Swiss Guard at his door, and probably more of them if he made it past that one without a bullet in his back. Everett had been very courteous and helpful, and with his help and guidance, Hal started to understand the workings of the Camera Stellata. Not that he was all that head over heels with some of the facets of its operation and propensity for autocratic global rule.
‘But what about democracy?’ Hal had asked Everett during an induction session.
‘What about it Hal? We make sure everyone gets a choice.’
‘Yes, but it’s a choice between villains on the same team, appointed by us.’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t you think that’s undemocratic?’
‘No, not at all. People still get to feel important, and have a vote.’
‘It’s hardly different to dictatorship.’
‘And your point is Hal?’
‘I suppose we appoint the dictators as well?’
‘Yes, of course Hal.’
‘And end their rule too?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what’s the point?’
‘Simple Hal. The whole world gets to believe in politics, participate and have a jolly good time arguing and protesting, debating and fighting each other while we get on with our job of running this silly little planet − unnoticed.’
‘So is there’s no difference between democratic states, communist regimes and dictatorships?’
‘Oh yes Hal, a lot of differences. It’s just a matter of local control and efficiency. Horses for courses so to say. But if necessary, all of them can be changed to accommodate different eventualities.’
‘And there’s never been a challenge to the authority of the Camera Stellata?’
‘Not since 1641 Hal. But then again, how could there be? No one knows it exists.’
‘Surely someone during that time has opened his mouth in the wrong place, or even intentionally tried to give the secret away.’
‘Possibly Hal. But the Camera Stellata has always managed to keep its secrets safe. One way or another.’
Hal reflected on this conversation he’d had with Everett a few days earlier, and began wondering about Everett’s father. Accidentally electrocuted in his bath. And his own father, accidentally killed on the polo field. Accidents to keep secrets secret perhaps? Hal wished he had beer.
With one week of his sentence completed, Hal tried to relax as much as possible and let time float by as easily as it could. Having CNN and BBC in English on his television helped pass the time, and feel that at least he was in contact with the real world. He just hoped he would get to see it for real again very soon.
Yes Boss
Sir Bradley Sidebottom sat alongside William Minor-Morris, Archduke of Chester in their Luxury Class seats aboard the Cosmic Cruiser, heading to Gloth for their regular briefing of the Glothic Grand Council.
‘My word, I always look forward to a glass or two of Fozzoxly when we travel to Gloth. Nothing on Earth like it, eh what?’ Minor-Morris commented.
‘Indeed. I do hope they’re serving the Onglets of Tirdd with that yummy Yuretha Jus this trip. Although I must say that I don’t mind the twice-baked Begrogol fillets either.’
‘Yes, well I’m sure we’ll be treated to some wonderful delights as usual Sir Bradley. Now, how’s it all going with our new recruit?’
‘Very good reports my Lord. Young Emberly has been keeping me informed, and says all is proceeding rather well. Sandro Gregorian has young Halbert Hoop fully monitored, and sees no cause for concern.’
‘How long has he been in tuition?’
‘Just over a week now, so still early days yet.’
‘Very well, I’ll make a note to follow up on young Halbert in a couple of weeks. Hopefully he’ll be ready for our next meeting.’
‘More Fozzoxly gentlemen?’ the slightly green faced reptilian steward asked.
‘Oh yes, indeed young man,’ Emberly enthusiastically replied. ‘So what’s on the menu today?’
‘Well it’s a real treat this trip sir. Whole Poached Winkie Flyers stuffed with Fresh Krinquelain Faeces and a salad of Viddiam Lymph Glands.’
‘Sounds delicious. What is it?’ Minor-Morris asked as the steward carefully poured the Fozzoxly.
‘Well gentlemen, Winkie Flyers are a very small bird native to the planet Mini-Squele and are famed for being a one mouthful taste sensation. The Krinquelain Faeces is quite unique as it’s one of the only known edible varieties of animal faeces in the universe; with a taste very similar to truffle
in fact. The Viddiam Lymph Glands are served cold with a spicy vinaigrette. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy your meal today.’
‘Sounds absolutely scrumptious,’ Sir Bradley replied.
‘If there’s anything you need gentlemen, please call me.’
‘Well I suppose we should get on with this damned report for the Grand Council,’ Minor-Morris said as he took a sip of his Fozzoxly.
‘I think it’s just about complete my Lord. It’s been a rather quiet month, so very little to mention in fact.’
‘How is the oil project coming along?’
‘There’ll be an invasion shortly. The Bush fellow will be paving the way for a bit of political support. Should keep the masses occupied then. But for the moment, we have product flowing at a very good rate.’
‘And the financing arrangements?
‘Ready to take a profit from the sacrifice of Enron. Should suffice.’
‘Any removals?’
‘Surprisingly no. But it won’t be long I suppose before we have to. Never is quiet on that front for too many months on end.’
‘Yes, it has been a while hasn’t it? That Massoud fellow in Afghanistan wasn’t it?’
‘I believe so.’
‘So, all in order then. We can enjoy out trip.’
Although both men had made the journey to Gloth many times, they never tired of such a relaxing trip. From a private airfield just outside Rome, they took a very plain, but Gloth owned private jet, which rendezvoused and then landed within the bowels of the Cosmic Cruiser, just west of Ireland. Although the size of a small moon, with its shields in operation it was invisible to both the naked eye and all forms of radar, sonar, pulsar or any other form of Erdean ‘ar’ at all. As all technology on Erde was originally designed on Gloth, this was no surprise. There were some things Gloth didn’t share. In addition to the odd passenger or two, the primary reason for the regular Cosmic Cruiser run to Erde was to collect its valuable exports. Gold, silver and industrial minerals.
*****
‘Welcome yet again gentlemen. I trust you had a pleasant journey,’ Grand Councillor Heptuss Kklaakk said as he greeted his Erdean guests at the Cosmic Cruiser Port.
‘Very pleasant as always Councillor,’ Minor-Morris replied as he shook Kklaakk’s hand.
‘Good, well I’ll deposit you at your quarters and let you prepare for tonight’s Grand Council meeting. I hear the Supreme Potentate will be attending to deliver a policy directive.
‘Oh, I’ll certainly look forward to that,’ Sir Bradley said with enthusiasm. ‘I’ve only seen him once before at a meeting and that was for only a brief few minutes.’
‘Well March the Fourth does tend to keep out of the limelight somewhat for a Supreme Potentate, but I assure you he is a very hardworking and diligent leader who misses nothing. He keeps us Councillors on our toes. Anyway, will you join me for dinner this evening before the Grand Council meeting? I have two guests from Outer Multitudinous here. A very charming couple who can only attend once a year because of the distance.’
‘They’re the reptilian race with four heads, aren’t they?’ Sir Bradley asked.
‘Yes exactly. Always fun having a conversation with them.’
‘Of course, we’d be delighted,’ Minor-Morris accepted graciously.
‘So, let’s get moving then gentlemen.’
*****
Minor-Morris and Sir Bradley made it to the Grand Council Hall with minutes to spare after a thoroughly entertaining dinner with Kklaakk along with Splittlik Kwil and Seemazso Laittli, the two guests from Outer Multitudinous. A riveting conversation about the proportional head and arm voting system used during Grand Council meetings to equalise the voting weight of multi limbed and or headed councillors. They found their allocated seats just as the President of the Grand Council of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth was about to rise to his feet to open the meeting.
‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family,’ Hillfried Tripplett, The Puissant of Kornankle and President of the Grand Council began his address. ‘It is with great pride that I welcome you all here again, and thank the many of you who have travelled great distances from within our Twelve Sun Systems to be here. Our meeting will be honoured by the attendance of March the Fourth, our Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth, who will deliver a new policy directive for our consideration.’
Most of the delegates and ambassadors who had been around a while knew this was code for being approved or else by the Grand Council, but it was always politely referred to as consideration. There would be a vote of course, but there was never any doubt as to the result.
‘Therefore, we will be asking delegates and ambassadors to lodge their written reports only for this meeting. Ushers will make their way to you during the meeting to collect your reports. We will more than likely return to our usual presentation and Q&A format at our next meeting. I will now ask High Councillor Schmeggup to address the apologies and proxies for this meeting.’
‘Well not much to do this time then?’ Minor-Morris whispered to Sir Bradley as Schmeggup began a long list of procedural items.
‘No sir. I know how much you look forward to questions from the High Councillors,’ Bradley smiled.
‘It’ll be your turn one day,’ Minor-Morris whispered back with a hint of sarcasm.
After over two hours of procedural matters dealt with by Schmeggup and three other High Councillors, Hillfried Tripplett, The Puissant of Kornankle finally rose to his feet again and thanked the High Councillors for their work. He then moved on to a much more interesting matter.
‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family, would you please rise.’
The lighting in the Great Hall dimmed and the Dodecahedron by the side of Tripplett turned from a very dark black to a very dark blue as he made his announcement.
‘Welcome, March the Fourth, our Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth,’ and with that announcement all the standing ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family raised their hands, and gave the traditional Glothic two-fingered, one thumb salute as March the Fourth entered to the sound of a fanfare and some rather elaborate lighting. It was some time before the theatrics were over, as it took poor old March some time to get to the elevated dais of the High Councillors. During what seemed like forever, everyone kept on politely saluting. At last seated along side Hillfried Tripplett, March too waited for the musical and lighting extravaganza to conclude, filling in the time by doing some return saluting.
Finally finished with the royal entrance extravaganza, the hall went quiet, the lights dimmed and March the Fourth rose to his feet. Slowly.
‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family, it is my duty today to address you concerning some changes that need making to our policy directives to ensure the smooth operation of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth. These minor changes are recommended by the High Council as well as myself, and I ask for your deep consideration. Firstly, the Royal Gregorian and Gloth Symphony Orchestra will hereby be forbidden from performing for free at ambassadorial functions. The cost of transporting seventy-eight musicians and the conductor around the entire Twelve Sun Systems is becoming quite expensive, so there will now be a basic, all inclusive fee of seventeen trillion-billion Glocklars for any future performances,’ March paused for effect. ‘The second item is one of even more importance. It is proposed that we standardise the Royal Glothic salute so that the salute can only legally be delivered with the right, or further most right hand. We fully understand the dilemma this will cause those of you from Lefticious Nine, but would ask that the salute be delivered with your singular left hand from behind your head, thus delivering the salute from the correct side, adjacent to your right ear. Armless races will still be expected to stand on one leg during times of required saluting,’ March paused again to clearly punctu
ate his list of directives. As he only had one more, he took his time. ‘Lastly I would like to address the small issue of non-derivative cash flow forecast returns on fully-bound Gloth Bonds and the hexadecimal formulae by which both performing and non-performing assets and long term debt are attributed to profits and losses in any given fiscal period, and the base cross rate used in formulating such for the purposes of inter-planetary exchange and monitoring of transportable assets between Sun Systems be approved. Although a minor change, it is our view that this will simplify the process and provide clarity for all reporting financial officers. An adjustment of zero point six percent, factored by the productivity index over the Gloth Bond IRR and multiplied by the quotient applicable to the asset will be necessary, however we see this as an extremely modest request.’ March paused, folded up his notes and sat down; with a little plop, as his old legs were clearly tired. As he plopped, everyone else of course stood and saluted. With the new right hand correction noted of course.
‘What did that last bit mean?’ Sir Bradley asked Minor-Morris.
‘He just doubled the inter-planetary tax rate.’
‘Oh, is that all.’
The Council President, Hillfried Tripplett, The Puissant of Kornankle rose to his feet and gave the command to vote on the three issues by asking if there were any objections to the motions. After a few seconds, there weren’t, so he sat down again and the business of the meeting concluded.
‘How does one object?’ Bradley asked Minor-Morris.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen it happen, so I have no idea.’
‘I see.’
The Adventures of HAL: The Second Hilarious Glothic Tale (The Glothic Tales Book 2) Page 9