by Jim Rudnick
"Sir, yes, Sir! I would love to make that change with you. It's still the Navy, it's at your side, it's a brand new super-destroyer, and most of all, I don't have to wear a uniform if I don't want too!" he said and smiled at his captain.
"You do realize that leaving the RIM Navy would be, what, a career-ending move, at least for us? We would be seen by many as traitors to the Navy even though it's done every so often, Lieutenant. Once you leave, you'd probably never come back under the blue and gold dagger ... you'd be an outcast at many official Navy events too.
"As I suspect you too would be shunned, Captain. Is this something that is well, decided or ...?" Bram said as he stood and moved off the stool to come and stand closer to Tanner.
He shook his head.
"Not a decision I've made, but it is good to know that if I do go, I'd not go alone, and that is important to know, Bram," he said, wiped his face once more, and then tossed the towel aside. Sliding in his seat closer to his feet, he once again took the oars by the handles, and gripping them firmly, he began to push away from the end of the contraption and pulled on the oars at the same time. He pushed all the way back to the full extension, and then using his leg muscles, he compacted his body on the down-stroke and then did it over and over. Exercise, he thought, just might be a saving grace ... sweaty, heart-pounding, aching grace ... but still it kept him away from the bottle ...
#
Faisal moved the dolly through the doorway into the interior of the lab and not a single gourd fell off, which as he knew was a real accomplishment. Should'a built a lip onto the top of the dolly, he thought and smiled to himself. Picking them up one at a time, he laid them on the bed of the conveyor and started it up to have the gourds pass along and under the x-ray scanner that sat above. He checked and the tape was running, so he waited until the twenty-five gourds had all passed through and then re-stacked them all back onto the dolly.
Tibah entered the lab just then and stood beside him to await the beep that would tell them that the x-rays were complete and they could look at them on-screen, which lit up when Faisal clicked the monitor button.
The lineup slowly went by, one by one, the gourds represented by the single outer heavy dark line that represented the outer skin or rind. As the gourds were all part spaghetti squash and part mango, they were very transparent to the x-ray beams, but anything inside them would, if made of something more tangible than vegetable matter, show up.
While they awaited the line to complete its path, Faisal looked over at her.
"Tibah, how is Nusayr? How is he holding up?"
She looked away for a moment then back at her number two.
"He's okay. He's not used to the Pod Plant work, but he does say when he cleans a new pod, it's sparkling. More than that, I don't know, as we visited yesterday, but I do know that he's chafing at being here. He needs out. That I do know," she said quietly. Acknowledging that their whole reason for even being on Halberd was the freeing of Nusayr was not even worth mentioning, but it was the reason.
Tibah smiled as the gourds paraded by.
"I see that the insertions worked perfectly, Faisal. Congratulations," she said and clapped him on the back.
Nodding, he acknowledged the compliment and smiled back.
"Can you tell which of the gourds on the dolly does not have an insert?" he said and pointed to the pile in front of him.
Tibah took a step closer, picked one up, shook it, and felt not a single vibration or tremor that might show there was something inside. She picked up quite a few and shook them all, and not a single gourd reacted any differently.
"How many did you do?" she said.
"There are twenty-three here that are perfect copies of the normal fancies we sell. They are all part spaghetti squash and mango, with the same exact look and feel of the fancies. Except as you know, we put together these couple of dozen by hand, melding the halves exactly as the GMO fancies are grown. They are totally waterproof, and they float perfectly like the GMO ones too. I can’t tell them apart, and neither could you just a minute ago. So they carry their payload just like planned, and as they're the same looking as the ones we grow and sell every day, they should raise no suspicion by anyone.
"When do they go into the river?" she asked.
"Tonight at close to midnight, so that we get the full tidal bore to take them out to Max Island. Should be on the beach there first thing tomorrow morning, and I'll Ansible Nusayr in a bit to let him know we're on target."
Tibah shook her head.
"No, that's a job I want to do, Faisal. You get them ready for their swim and then take some time off tonight, much thanks to you and your team," she finished off and gave him a hug.
He looked at her and grew solemn.
"Ma’am, you do realize that once this is started, there will be no way to stop this, Ma’am ..." he said and held her by the forearm as she nodded.
"Has to happen—Nusayr is the true leader of the Olbian people, and this will be the first step on his road back to taking that title back from the Caliph."
Her voice got a bit strident, but she was right. Nusayr would be free and soon, and she needed to speak to him too with the news that the Caliph would be here for the Anniversary event.
CHAPTER EIGHT
At the access point into the Max Island prison, Tibah stood with others and waited to pass through to have some time with her brother. After a few minutes, she was at the front of the queue and smiled at the prison guard behind the desk.
"Morning, Sergeant, good to see you again," she said as she dropped off a plain paper bag that looked quite heavy. Inside were a few of the fancies, and the bag was quickly scooped up by the guard, and a big smile ensued.
"Countess, yes, good to see you as well, and I take it you'd like to see the Count?" he asked as he made the correct notations on his tablet. The turnstile in front of her beeped, and she walked onto the prison grounds.
Moving along the terracotta path, she approached the big administration building and went off to one side to sit in the large outdoor patio area and await Nusayr. Looking around, she was grateful that this early in the morning, not a single other visitor was there, and she settled in to wait.
Around her, on the corners of the walls, the prison AI had turrets and sensors that could read any kind of situation or dangerous occurrence, so she knew the upcoming conversation would be a simple talk.
No shouting. No jumping up and screaming. Not a single incident to alert the AI to pay attention. This would be hard enough without that kind of oversight.
She smiled as Nusayr appeared, walked over to her, took the seat on the opposite side of the table, reached across, and took her hand.
"Tibah, as always a pleasure, but I will admit that this is a surprise, sister," he said and squeezed her hand.
She spoke slowly.
She left out not a single item for his consideration beginning with the fact that their cousin, the Caliph, would be attending the 100th Anniversary Celebration event in a couple of weeks.
She mentioned before he could even react that he needed to consider everything before he made any kind of a decision.
Nusayr sat quietly soaking up the new item.
She went on to remind him that the current plan had been in place for almost eight months. She and her crew had left Olbia and joined him and the Council of Nine here on Halberd to help support his escape.
She reminded him the plan to use their superior GMO skills not only worked, but one day might also help support them in the future.
But now things had changed. The Caliph would be within their reach, and as she said that, Nusayr began to nod his head.
"Yes, that is news, and as you can imagine, we can strike a blow here for Olbia. The word escape has no more meaning for me, Tibah ..." he said as she knew he would go and polarize his options.
He wanted blood, and here was his chance.
"Send the gourds as planned, but keep the courgettes back and bring them in as products for
the stadium stall," he said, and they both nodded.
They talked longer, much longer, and they came to some determinations on who'd do what, what the timeline for the celebrations would be, and what the outcome on the best-case and worst-case scenarios would be for them both.
"It's for Olbia and our freedom as a planet out from under the Caliph," she said and he nodded.
"At whatever cost might occur," Nusayr added and they smiled at each other.
#
"Sir, the DS Triumph is landing, thought you might want to know, Sir," Lieutenant Greelay said as he was the Ansible officer this shift. He turned toward his captain and smiled with a knowing look at others on the bridge day crew shift.
"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant, and yes, I know that means that there would have been some talk about an officer's mess, but not this time. As you all know, I'm, uh, I'm trying to be a bit healthier—yeah, that's it. Healthier ..." Tanner said and smiled, but the smile was a bit forced. With the run early this morning where he'd pushed it to a full five miles in less than forty minutes, he felt totally washed out. Add in that the double-double coffees came un-spiked meant that this getting healthy lifestyle was more than enough to swallow. And now, the Duke had arrived, which may cause some issues, he suddenly realized.
"Date of the 100th Anniversary event is, what, thirteen days away, correct?" he said to the XO, who sat behind him and off to starboard.
"Aye, Sir, which means if he's here now, either he's taking a vacation on the RIM prison planet, or he has something else to do here. Sir," he said and Tanner could not get a read on any tone at all, so he turned to stare at Craig.
"XO, do you have any idea why he's here so early?"
"Sir, no, Sir. I don’t think there is game here that would interest him whatsoever. So, your own guess would be as good as my own," he said and shrugged as if to say he had no idea at all.
Tanner turned back to the front screen, and on his left-side chair console, he punched a couple of buttons and the view-screen suddenly lit up with the Triumph as she glided down vertically to eventually take her place on the assigned landing pad here in Andros. Playing with the camera, he turned it to show the pods pulling up to sit near the landing fins of the ship as the escalator slowly was sliding down and into place. Out of the pods, he saw the normal Customs and Health officers climbing out and taking up their positions. He also noted that in front of them the rear admiral had rolled out the Provost corps with more than a dozen of them quickly taking up honor guard pickets and saluting, even though there was no one yet from the Triumph present. There was the mayor, the Farm and Max Island wardens, and more that Tanner didn't even know.
Noting there were officers on the escalator coming down from the ship, Tanner stood and sighed.
Duty calls, he thought and said, "XO, you have the Comm. You can see me on the screen in a minute or two, I'd imagine," he said with a degree of disappointment.
"Sir, will you be joining us for mess later?" his XO said dryly as he too had an idea of what was to come.
"You can count on it, XO. I will be back by dinnertime," he said and then hit the lift and went down to the tarmac.
Moving with a bit of a long stride, he quickly crossed the few hundred yards over to the Triumph in time to see the Duke coming down the escalator and was glad to see that he got a wave too.
I like this man, Tanner thought, especially as he saved my life on Anulet a couple of years back when the Jael I'd been hunting attacked me and the Duke shot him with one round.
Tanner remembered the rest of that adventure. While they were then catching their breath, the Jael's mate had suddenly appeared and charged the Duke, and he'd been lucky enough to kill that huge bearlike creature, though it had taken round after round and even using the rifle as a club to try to finish the beast off.
Since then, his path had crossed the Duke's only a couple of times, most recently a year ago at a RIM Council meeting he had broken into to try to help the Ikarian aliens who had come to the RIM on a Sleeper ship.
We are friends, Tanner thought, well, at least as close as any friends could be when one of them was a Royal.
He waved back and quickened his step to stand at the end of the lineup of officers and VIPs all awaiting introductions to the Duke. It took more than fifteen minutes for the Duke to nod, shake hands, and to accept some kind of a certificate from the mayor. After some more nodding and a few asides to some aide just behind him, the Duke d'Avigdor eventually got to the end of the line and his face lit up.
"Captain Scott, what a great surprise. I am now happy to be here on Halberd ... well," he said and half-turned back to the group of VIPs behind him, "happy even more, I mean," he said and grasped Tanner by the upper arm and moved off and away from the group of people.
He said nothing, and Tanner would not ever speak first. The Duke led him off a dozen paces or so and then smiled again at his friend.
"Tanner, it really is so nice to see you, lad. So what do you have planned for me?" he said, and for a moment, Tanner was worried he was serious. But the outright laugh the Duke broke into was quicker than him trying to come up with some kind of a phony answer.
"Don't worry, Scott, I'm joshing you is all I'm doing, and from the inside information I have, there are no Jaels on Halberd, though I wish that there were," he said.
That got him laughing loudly, and over his shoulder, Tanner could see the VIPs staring at the two of them with open mouths. It is obvious the Duke had a more than casual relationship with me, he thought, and that might help in some future endeavor. And that made Tanner smile too.
"Duke d'Avigdor, again, Majesty, it is so nice to see you again," he said and fully bowed his head to acknowledge the Royal before him.
"Nonsense, Captain, just call me David, well, when we're alone that is, and save the Royal honors for the public. Any man who saved my life deserves no less," he said and he reached down to grasp Tanner's hand and shook it for all to see.
That appeared to cause even more raised eyebrows in the group behind the Duke, and Tanner continued to smile.
"Well, then, uh, David, what can we do to welcome you to Halberd?" he said and squirmed only slightly at his use of the Duke's first name.
"Nothing right now, Captain, as you can imagine, I've got a full calendar of items ‘til early this evening. But you'll be joining me for dinner right after that here on the Triumph, and I won't hear a word of negativity on that. My aide will message you, and please come dressed casually, as we're going to have a wonderful dinner, and then lots of hunting stories, and Scotch ... I won't hear that you won’t be my guest this evening. Captain." He nodded and then turned, squared his shoulders, and returned to the milling group of VIPs that still awaited his presence.
Tanner watched him go and turned to go back to the Marwick realizing that at the Duke's invitation, as if it were an invitation that could be refused, he would be drinking tonight. Again. It'd been almost twenty days since his last Scotch night out, and he knew that tonight he'd not be able to say no to a Duke.
Of course, he thought, if I am trying to find allies out here on the RIM, then the Duke would be one of the best to have. It appeared that their hunting trip of a couple of years ago had made that a reality. The evening would be good for his future.
As he thought that, he was reminded about his soon-to-be-made choice about what to do about the Barony captaincy offer—and that the Lady had said a couple of times that they didn't care if he did imbibe, as long as he did his job—captaining the newest fastest super-destroyer on the RIM.
That made him smile again as he stepped up on the bottom stair of the Marwick's escalator. Scotch with a Duke. How bad could that be?
#
He struggled to roll over to the edge of his bunk and found he couldn't get there before his stomach churned again. He puked all over the edge of his bed, and some slurped over onto the floor. His eyes fluttered a few times and the ceiling above him, rivets, deck steel, and all came into focus. It hurt to focus, he r
ealized, and then the retching started again.
The Scotch wasn't the problem as his liver was still working on oxidizing it, but it was those stupid shots of that damn liqueur from Bacu, one of the Duchy planets, that really was the problem. Bacu was a planet he had been told was the home of the gypsies of the RIM, and they had some of the most interesting food and booze items. “That didn't matter right now,” he said to himself and made the mistake of shaking his head.
The pain traveled all the way down his scalp from the top of his head along the back of his neck to curl around to his chest, and the resulting muscle spasm in his neck caused him to tilt his head backward so quickly he smacked it against the bare steel wall.
He knew this should have hurt more, but he was sure the pain would come soon, so he rolled off his bunk and fell to the floor.
“There,” he said to himself, “that has got to ...” It hurt so bad he had an idea he should call for help but moaned instead. And he moaned again, lying in the puke that had pieces of whatever they had dined on last night.
He knew to try to lie still. He knew to grit his teeth to wait while the pain lessened, and he knew that it would lessen too.
But it did not.
He ached, and ached, and wondered how the Duke felt this morning, but then he opened an eye and saw that the view-port was pitch black, so it was still nighttime and the eastern sky was only marginally lighter.
Still night. Still hurting. Still a sucker for Scotch ...
He moved a foot trying to find the bunk support. After a moment, he got his instep pushed up against the steel column and slowly pushed steadily against it, and that moved his body along the floor toward the bathroom door. But once his leg was outstretched, he lost the ability to push against anything else and had to lay there as the pain caught up to him.