by Jim Rudnick
Behind him, he did hear some chattering, and he only got a dozen steps off when someone behind him shouted, "Sir, please?"
But he did not stop, and after a few more strides, he could hear someone behind him running him down, so he stopped and turned to face the EliteGuard lieutenant who caught up to him and was puffing slightly but remembered to salute him.
Tanner stared at the lieutenant and did not return the salute at first, and the lieutenant followed Navy custom and had to hold his salute frozen, which he did until a full minute later, Tanner snapped off his own salute, and they faced each other.
"Sir, sorry, there was no attempt to make you uneasy at all, just our own Sterling Navy custom is that, well, Sir, when you guard Royalty all day, you get used to forcing all armed men away from the Lady, but in your case, we'd like to 'bend' our rules. Sir. If you would care to come back, Sir, we can admit you, with your Colt on your side, Sir. If that's okay, Sir?" the lieutenant offered and then waited.
Tanner smiled at the lieutenant and said, "Shall we?" and they both went back to the bottom of the landing escalator for the Sterling. The major wouldn't even look at him, but Tanner smiled at all who did and then rode the escalator up behind the lieutenant whose job it appeared was to escort him to the dinner. Up they went, then down the landing deck to the lift, and all the way up to Deck Nineteen where the dinner would be held. Mentally, Tanner compared this standard frigate with the RN Kerry, his previous ship that was also a frigate and yet still so different.
Here, he was reminded a Royal owned the ship, as the finishes were so luxurious and posh yet in a refined sort of way. As he followed the lieutenant to starboard as they left the lift, the carpet was plush and the walls covered with small objets d'art, sculptures, and paintings. He recognized a beautiful wall carving of a Randi waterfall done in some kind of a wood and bronze mélange that he knew would be a year's pay for a captain like him. Rich is as rich does, and if the Barony thought that walking him down this corridor wouldn't make him up his price, they were wrong. Royalty, he thought and snorted. The lieutenant, who may have heard, didn't say a word.
At the doorway to one of the rooms that on the Kerry would have been a large conference room, the lieutenant knocked gently three times, then turned, and simply walked away, so Tanner just stood there.
Moments later, the door flew open and the Lady St. August stood there, grinning at him and motioning him to come in. In one hand, she held a sauté pan, and in the other, she held a knife that had a big glob of butter on it. She wheeled away from him to return inside, so he stepped in and stopped cold.
He was at the edge of what could only be a true gourmet kitchen, but that was not all he could see. There was a bank of stoves and grills and several more stainless steel appliances, all with a huge hood over the top. The Lady scurried behind a well-littered counter of some type of wooden block construction, and he could see bowls, ladles, and some kind of scaly looking crawling live foodstuffs too. On the counter was a propped-up tablet that had a movie running. Closer to him as he eased up to the edge of the counter was an upper-level dining bar that looked like it was set with only two place settings. Two wine glasses each, he saw, and that made him thirsty, but he just stared at the Lady.
Wearing an apron that had some stains on it, she looked, well, she looked pretty, he thought. He knew she had the normal beauty that went with Royalty, but now, the chef in her made her look, well, more human, he guessed. He smiled at her and pointed at one of the bar stools at the front, and she nodded as that glob of butter hit the hot sauté pan. She pointed to the bottles of wine standing at one side of the counter. He smiled and still having not spoken a word to each other, he went and got busy with the opening of a bottle. Red, full bodied, yes, there was one he knew from Quaran, and while their Chablis were the finest, this red, a Petite Verdot was an excellent choice. He opened it, poured, and then walked around the edge of the counter to put her glass close to her.
Smiling, she nodded and then hit the tablet to stop the movie. With a gloved hand, she lifted the lid of a huge Dutch oven on the stovetop, and he could hear the liquids inside it boiling away. Into that pot, she scooped up the various live crab-looking creatures and tossed them right into the mixture, and after a couple of more trips between the counter and the pot, she put the lid back on top and adjusted the gas flow to turn it down. She looked at Tanner then directly.
"I thought it time to meet socially, Captain—may I call you Tanner, please?" she said nicely.
"Of course, Ma’am," he said in return and held up his glass of wine to give her a toast.
She did the same but held up a single finger toward him to emphasize what she was about to say.
"Then, Tanner, please ... tonight and here, please call me Helena." She tossed off a big mouthful of the wine too, nodding to him at the smooth finish and the long-lasting fruit flavored bouquet.
"Deal, Helena," he said and that did make him wonder if it might be the residual Scotch he had in his system doing the agreeing, but then he realized he didn't really care at this point. Captains will do as captains will do, he thought and that made him smile even more as he hoisted himself up on the stool.
What they talked about he really couldn't remember much of afterward, but he did know it was amiable, and if anything, it was of a friendship that was brand new but still unexpectedly nice. She laughed loudly when he told her he almost didn't get on the Sterling due to his Colt, and she added that was the standard operating procedure for the EliteGuard and a Royal. He remembered the topic of his captaincy in the Barony Navy never came up though Helena did mention they would allow him to bring over any officers he wanted too, which sounded good to him.
He remembered she was about fed up with having to be the "one on the scene" all the time for the Barony, she would have to be the head of the 100th Anniversary planning committee, and Gillian always saw the worst in people.
On his part, he knew he shouldn't have shared his own thoughts on the whole prison model practiced here on Halberd, on his own Adept Bram, and how he'd learned to like him, and lastly, on the fact that his mission here was only for five more months.
The dinner was superb. The crabs were from DenKoss, and they cooked up in that stovetop Dutch oven that was filled near the end of the cooking process with rice, sausage, and shellfish from somewhere else he couldn't remember. The dinner was accompanied with the fresh bread Helena readily admitted she did not bake for sopping up the meal—whatever it might have been called.
There was one thing he wanted to happen but it didn't. When the evening was over, he had wanted to kiss her, but he did not, but for a moment in the doorway, he imagined he could have, and he enjoyed thinking about nothing else as he sauntered back to the Marwick.
#
Helena stretched, almost spilled her tea, and smiled as the dollop of liquid jumped out of the cup and onto the meeting room floor. It hit with a plop, and she almost laughed right out loud but stifled that and turned back to the rest of the committee still sitting at the table. Here, in the offices of the Andros City Hall, she was the ranking Royal in the room—on the planet in fact—and that made her the committee chair. All of the seats at the table were full and looking at her for her guidance, and that alone made her antsy. If not for that wonderful dinner—date maybe it was called—last night with Tanner, she thought, I’d be upset even more with the poor group that is sitting at the table.
She turned, re-seated herself at the head of the long table, and looked around to catch the eyes of them all one by one.
Warden Lorenz from Conclusion and of the Max Island Penitentiary, sat to her immediate left. His white furry hands held his tablet, and he looked like he was awaiting orders. Beside him, the Farm prison warden, a Quaran who had been on Halberd she remembered for decades, wouldn't even look back at her but only down at his notes as he doodled with a pen. Next at the table was the Mayor of Andros, a human; the head of the Pod Plant, a Ttseen; and at the other end, the head of the Provost corps,
a major here on Halberd. He looked directly at her, challenging in a way, and Helena thought she'd need to keep an eye on him for sure.
Moving up the right-hand side of the table was the head of the Prison guards, a woman she hadn't met yet, and next to her was the superintendent of the stadium, a Thronian who smiled all the time and kept his eyes on her bosom. Figures, she thought and took a deep, deep breath just to double-check that, and yes, his eyes dilated and she sighed. Closer still was the Power Plant head, a human from Jupiter, and then closest to her on her right-hand side, Rear Admiral Higgins. He too had a glance at her chest but had enough common sense to look away immediately. This was her 100th Anniversary Committee.
"So, first, let me just thank you all for coming to the table—I believe we have only one real task, which is to plan and coordinate the event from its start to finish and then gather the needed resources to accomplish the task. Could I ask first, from the stadium superintendent what space and resources can you offer up—as I figure we should start with the venue itself, agreed all?" she said and looked around the table. All the heads nodded and then turned to the superintendent.
"Ma’am, first let me just say how privileged I feel that you have allowed—"
"Yes, yes," Helena said, and motioned to him to continue.
"Well, the stadium will be yours—ours I would suppose, for the whole of the day. We will turn it over to you and your security forces when needed that day or earlier even, Ma’am" he said, his pen poised over the notepad in front of him ready to take notes.
"Security should go next," the Provost Guard said and stood to deliver.
"Please, sit," Helena said, and he quickly dropped down into the seat behind him.
"Ma’am, I have concerns, Ma’am. The date is only about thirty days away, and as yet, we've not had confirmed attendance from many of the realms. And without those confirmations, we do not know what kind of security we would need, where to put them, how many to allow to attend, where we will—"
"No need, Major, no need at all," the rear admiral interrupted but turned to face Helena.
"Ma’am, we're going to use the normal force fields installed already to hold the Max Island convicts; the Farm convicts will also be present, and they do not need to be behind a force field. We intend to mount a temporary force field all around the stage too, to protect the VIPs, Ma’am," he said and then looked back down the table to the Provost major.
"Ever know anyone who's broken through a force field?" he said and smiled. The whole table smiled, Helena noted, and that was at least a start.
"So, with force fields to hold the Max convicts and to protect the VIPs, one of which will be me by the way, it seems like the security problem is not a problem at all, do we agree?"
"Ma’am, Sir" the Provost major said, "however, might I at least get some kind of 'contingency' force that could be held in case we have need of them? That would be SOP for anyone having an event like this one, I mean, with Royals and all? A small force even, but again riot equipped and at least a couple of Andros SWAT teams too—all held in abeyance, of course?"
"Agreed, and we'll put you in charge of that detail too," Helena said and then turned to the mayor.
"Mr. Mayor, what can you offer for the event?"
"Ma’am, I would like to say that we would like to feature not only the prisons and their success, but the overall success of the city of Andros too. We'd like to have the Farmers Market—or a small selection of same—allowed to show off their wares and goods for the public to buy and enjoy their summer items. Would that be okay?" he said with a look that said please.
All the heads nodded so Helena had hopes this would go better than she had expected.
She looked down at the female Prison Guard and tilted her head at her.
"Ma’am, yes, we plan on having the usual complement of guards with the Max Island convicts—same as we always have with an Avenger game, Ma’am. We will be behind the force field also as per normal, so there will be nothing new for the convicts with this event. SOP, Ma’am," she said and flashed a smile at the Lady.
"Fine, so we've got security off-site, well at least hidden away as they won't be needed; we've got a Farmers Market to serve up food and items for the public; and we've got force fields to protect us all. Now, all we need are the confirmations from the heads of state or their ambassadors to get our seating plan in order as well as the agenda for the event. From what I'm told, and the numbers are on your agenda, we're going to have ships from all over the Confederacy—more than fifty ships have booked landing pads," she said and shook her head. Throw a free event and the Royals and heads of state showed up to the trough.
"Early evening I would think would be best, no more than say an hour or less of speeches, et cetera, et cetera. And we'd need both wardens to offer up a few words—something perhaps on how important it is to have the 100 years of history of no escapes? That is what is expected," she added and noted both wardens nodded their heads and made notes too.
"Is that it then?" she said and looked around.
Every face now looked at her, and she noted there was agreement around the table.
"Fine, then I will work on the agenda and will accept the heads of states’ RSVPs as they come in and will forward it to all here on an updated basis. It appears that my own Baroness will not be attending, so while I was to be acting as the MC during the event, that job has just been handed over to the Caliph as the Sharia al Dotsa will attend. In all his glory," she added with a big smile and looked around the table again. This time all the eyes were averted as no one else wanted to make a comment, which she had counted on, of course.
"We will be publicizing that news later today via local media, and as the Caliph is the Vice Chairman of the RIM Confederacy Council, there will be more hoopla than I would have planned, but that's out of our hands," she said and then sat.
The Caliph in person ... my, how big the event had just gotten ...
#
"Last time," Bram said quietly so that he would not be overheard, "you were draped over the treadmill—the blue one, second one in." He smiled up at his captain who was huffing and puffing on the rowing machine near the back of the gym.
"When was that?" he asked between strokes and tried to keep his rhythm steady.
Bram sat off to one side on a stool and grinned.
"Just, what, maybe a month ago or so," he said and kept right on grinning. The fact that Tanner was here in the gym, working out, was an unusual occurrence, and that alone was worth the grin, he thought.
Tanner thought, Been awhile, but then at least I am trying.
It had come to him the day after his dinner with the Lady, about two weeks ago, when he realized one way to keep the dependency on booze at bay would be to find something else to do. Being the Navy officer who was in charge of the Halberd mission was a boring and not exactly interesting duty; but more than that, it could be handled by his crew, which left him little to actually "do."
Finding time on his hands often meant a dip into the Scotch world, and that he had always found to be a fun trip.
Yet for some reason, he wanted to try to stay off that booze tour, and to do that, he needed other avenues to expend his energy, his interests, and his time. Part of that he was able to handle via the early morning run he took from the landing port all the way out to the main streets, to the river, and then back, and he had done that now eleven times over the past two weeks. Further time he spent on running diagnostics for all of the Marwick AI systems, which bugged the hell out of his CPOs, but that was a situation that went with the stripes.
He had also taken to running the EL up top to Pike Station once a week too, not that this killed a lot of time, but he tried to spend at least a couple of hours on the Station learning as much as he could about the pod freighters. Once, he'd been invited onto a Leudi ship to look over the actual loading ramps and the AI that controlled it. He smiled for a moment between strokes, as the Leudi was one of the few he'd ever seen that wasn't wea
ring his neck snake. "With the ship's doctor," the Leudi captain had said. That too struck Tanner again as funny, and he laughed loudly, slowed his strokes, and came to a stop.
"Bram, this sucks. Plain and simple, and if you're reading my mind, then you know that the physical workout is not the most fun thing I've ever done. Been in much better shape just a couple of years ago ..." he said and nodded as Bram held up a towel.
Mopping his face, he rubbed it all over his scalp and hair and then tossed it back.
Bram sat and looked away for a moment and then back to his Captain.
"Sir, can we talk about ... well, about the Lady, Sir?" he said, after looking around and noting that here on the last row of machines, they were alone. He had stopped grinning, Tanner noted.
"Sure, what do you think you know—and what do you want to know," Tanner said and chugged a half a bottle of water in a few seconds and then burped loudly. "Good to see that works at least," he said and then turned his full attention to Bram.
He stared at his lieutenant and thought plainly about the past few weeks of his interactions with the Barony and the Lady. He quite clearly went over the offer of the new captaincy with the Barony Navy and followed that up with the fact that he could—if he wanted—take along anyone he wanted to join him at the helm of the newest, biggest, fastest super-destroyer on the RIM. He tried not to think of the dinner he'd had with the Lady, but he just couldn't keep the taste of that paella away from the front of his brain. He wondered if Bram would catch that as he cocked his head to one side and looked at his Adept officer.
"Sir, how fast again is that new ship going to go—three light-years a day, and that's not even supercharged! Wow ..." he said and smiled.
Looks like my Adept is ... well, more adept than ever, Tanner thought.
"Bram, yes, I have been offered up a captaincy with the Barony Navy, and yes, she'll go three light-years a day. But more importantly," he said as he noted Bram tapping his own chest, "that I have been given the opportunity to take—to ask—any officers I want to come with me. Is that something you might be interested in?" he said and held his breath as Bram nodded his head emphatically.