Without a word, they dragged him off to a detention cell in the engineering area of the ship. It wasn’t exactly a barbarous space, but the comfort level was one fairly steep step down from his room on the cargo ship. The cot was harder, for one thing, and there was no other furniture. And this one had a clear force field through which a security officer and various engineer-types could peer at him whenever they happened to pass by. He wasn’t sure if she should try to talk to any of them, so he played it safe and remained quiet and, he hoped, nonthreatening.
Eventually Prince Tergus himself arrived to question him. With him was a uniformed man with an ugly-looking club-like weapon dangling at his side and a visored helmet covering his face. Jasno assumed this was intended to intimidate him. He had to give Tergus credit—it did.
With Jasno attempted to smile, Tergus stood in front of the force field and crossed his arms, staring at Jasno as if he were some captive wild beast from a distant planet.
“What is your name?” Tergus demanded.
“Jasno Erys, your Highness.”
“You seem to be at an advantage, since you know who I am. How?”
“I have seen your image…here and there,” Jasno replied. He didn’t feel comfortable speaking of the hologram he’d examined in Darex’s suite. Clearly Darex and Tergus had been friends at one time, but now Tergus was plotting to kidnap Darex. Jasno didn’t care to speculate why.
“Since your initial confinement, I have conducted some research,” Tergus announced after a few more moments of nerve-wracking silence. “Luckily for you, I have come to the conclusion that Prince Darex remains alive and well on Port Equinox. In fact, last I heard he was enjoying a rather uninhibited post-match celebration with Mal Jar the Master after a resounding victory in the gravity-free tournament.” His mouth turned down as he spoke. Whether he disapproved of the celebration, Mal Jar, or Jasno himself, Jasno couldn’t tell.
“I’m glad to hear that, your Highness.” Jasno nodded. He would have liked to see the end of that match, though the outcome hadn’t really been in doubt. He wouldn’t have minded spying on the rowdy celebration either. “When last I saw Prince Darex, he was seated in his royal box, enjoying the match. I promise you, I mean Prince Darex no harm whatsoever. I had his full permission to be in his suite when your men captured me.”
Tergus snorted. “My men? Those louts? Nonsense. They are freelance mercenaries—smugglers, to use the more colloquial term. I hired them to do a simple job for me. Given their background and educational level, I shouldn’t be surprised they did it poorly. I shall be in no hurry to engage their services again, you may be sure.”
“I don’t blame you, your Highness.” Jasno nodded again. “They didn’t seem very bright.” He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d had two face-to-face conversations with two different royal princes in a single day. If Tergus executed him today, at least he could say he’d come up a few rungs in the world before he left it.
“That’s putting it mildly.” Tergus made a cutting motion in the air with one hand. “All right, enough of this useless chitchat. I expect you to tell me exactly what you were doing in Darex’s suite—wearing only one of his towels, from what I understand—and passing yourself off as him.”
“That wasn’t what happened at all! I tried to explain it to your—er, to those men, but they wouldn’t listen to a word I said. I don’t think they were capable of understanding. The next thing I knew, they had knocked me flat on my back. I couldn’t explain anything further because I was unconscious after that.”
“And to think I told them no unnecessary violence,” Tergus said with a sigh. “I apologize if they hurt you. But go on.”
“Well, I was a little dizzy for a while, but otherwise, no harm done.” Blushing a little, Jasno quickly relayed the entire tale of how he had arrived at Darex’s suite to effect some repairs to the foodsynth unit, only to be sprayed with sticky foodstuffs and later accosted by Tergus’s hired men with his uniform still in the washing unit. Tergus listened with a stony expression befitting a haughty prince, but Jasno thought he saw a grin tug at the corners of his mouth once or twice during the strange and rather ludicrous story.
“Well, I’m glad you were not injured by those idiots’ clumsy techniques,” he said when Jasno had finished relating the facts. “You say you are a food synthesizer technician?”
“Yes, your Highness. It’s been my trade since I was practically a child.”
Tergus tilted his head with obvious interest. “Answer me truthfully—are you a good one?”
“I’d like to think so, my lord.” Just then an idea struck him. At this point, there was no returning to the port, but maybe he could find himself a position elsewhere, under Prince Tergus’s sponsorship or at the very least, his recommendation. He recalled the bland food the cargo ship’s processor had spit out and wondered if Tergus’s yacht yielded any better fare. “In fact, I have a special instrument that I believe makes my programs the tastiest in this quadrant, if not the entire galaxy. It’s hidden away in my toolbox, which I suspect your guards took with them. If they could bring it here, I’d be honored to show you what I mean.”
Tergus paused, clearly suspecting some nefarious plot. Still, after some consideration he nodded to the visored guard. “Go and get the box he is speaking of. I believe it remains at the guard station near the landing bay. Have it inspected once more and then bring it to me.”
“Yes, your Highness,” the guard said. He saluted by tapping his chest and hurried away. Jasno was surprised to hear a rather high-pitched, young-sounding voice coming from beneath the helmet.
While they waited, Jasno pattered on with increasing excitement. “I have memorized hundreds of meal plans, and I have my own little tweaks that make every dish special. I realize I don’t have my holocard anymore. It’s in the washing unit with my uniform. However, I’d be happy to demonstrate if you need evidence that I’m telling the truth.”
“I admit I have no reason to doubt you. Not even the royal bard at my father’s palace is creative enough to concoct a tale like that.” Tergus paused again, his brows drawing together as though he were thinking the offer over. “I would, however, be interested in seeing what you can do with my onboard synthesizers. This yacht’s nutritional engineer, Hyrzon, is a bit old-fashioned in his approach. The stars know he has not loaded any new recipes into the system since I was an infant, if then.”
Jasno nodded enthusiastically. At that moment, the guard returned with the toolbox in his arms. He set it on the floor at Tergus’s feet and waited for further orders. Tergus gestured toward Jasno to continue.
“Just inside the lining, you’ll feel a rigid square object tucked away for safekeeping. If you would be so kind as to pull it out,” he instructed. The guard again sought permission from Tergus, who nodded. Soon the object in question rested in Tergus’s outstretched hands.
“What is this peculiar item?” he asked. Tentatively he lifted the top and scowled at the square parchment-like contents.
“In the old days, it was called a book, your Highness. To be specific, a recipe book. I found it in a garbage heap at the port one day when I was a child. No one knows how old it is—probably several centuries. The recycling agent gave it to me, as no one could figure out what it meant. They thought it was written in code. I knew, though. Inside it are formulas—written out in the old style, by someone’s hand.”
Tergus stared at the odd notations, running his fingertips over them. “You can read these codes?”
“Yes, your Highness. They were called recipes in the old days—back when Earth people pulled food from the ground and sliced it up with knives before putting it over open fires.”
“Barbaric,” Tergus commented, but his gaze remained fixed to the writing in front of him.
“Well, over the years I have studied the book, and I know how to adapt the foods described there so that we can recreate them using modern technology. I have only tested out a few, but everyone commented they were delicio
us, your Highness. I would be pleased to try again on your behalf.”
“It seems to me that food synthesis is an ever-evolving field,” Tergus said slowly. “Why would we want to return to old and primitive methods?”
“Perhaps your Highness has seen holograms of the people who lived in those days,” Jasno rushed on. He poked at his own trim middle. “You may have noticed that some of them were rather—wide in this area. That was the result of their enjoying their meals so much. There must have been something to their methods, if they were willing to risk their lives to indulge so freely.”
“I have seen such holograms,” Tergus conceded. His fingers ruffled the book and stopped at an image of just such a round-figured Earthman in a peculiar white costume and bonnet, wielding a comically oversized spoon. “Perhaps there was something to be said for a more traditional approach, though I am glad we no longer have to worry about our figures becoming deformed thus.”
“I’m sure I could make myself useful, your Highness.”
Tergus snapped the book shut and handed it to his guard, who replaced it in the toolbox. “Very well. I suppose such activity will keep you busy until we decide what to do with you, and you might as well earn your keep in the meantime.” Stepping back, he nodded to his sentry, who typed a code into the keypad on the wall and disabled the force field. “I will assign you a room in the staff quarters,” Tergus said. “Avo here will take you to meet Hyrzon. See that you cooperate in every way or you will find yourself back here again.”
“Of course, your Highness. I am only to please you,” Jasno said, grinning and bowing.
Tergus turned to go, and the guard, Avo, nodded and placed a fist to his chest again. Without bothering to acknowledge the gesture, Tergus strode away. His beautiful clothing shimmered around him as he walked.
“This way,” Avo said after a moment. He picked up the toolbox and motioned for Jasno to follow him in the opposite direction. They crossed the engineering bay and stepped into a service lift, no doubt much less fancy than what Tergus used to get around the ship, but as long as it kept moving him away from the detention cell and was well ventilated, Jasno wasn’t about to complain. The ones at the port weren’t always in the best state of repair, though he’d only been stuck a few times and had been rescued within a reasonable amount of time. Some of his friends had experienced worse luck, developing lasting claustrophobia after similar mishaps.
Actually, now that he thought about, everything seemed more pleasant here than on the port. Even Tergus, suspicious and stern as he might be, behaved far more hospitably than any of his earlier superiors.
As they rode along, Jasno studied Avo in silence. Here in close proximity, he could see through the visor and confirmed that he was indeed about Jasno’s own age. He decided to risk a friendly overture.
“How many people are on this ship?” he asked as they barreled along the transport tube, holding the grip handles on the wall to compensate for the high-velocity thrust that carried them through the infrastructure of the ship—or yacht, as Tergus had called it. Avo looked at him as though he were either insane or mentally deficient.
“What does that mean? This is the crown prince’s flagship yacht, of course. His Highness travels with at least a hundred servants, engineers, and guards.”
“Oh. Thanks. I mean, I need to know so I can adjust the food synthesizers properly,” he improvised.
Avo suppressed a smirk with only partial success. Jasno watched his lips quirk through the lowered visor. “Well, the crew probably won’t get anything changed. Prince Tergus will reap the benefits of your talents, assuming you’re telling the truth. I doubt he cares what the rest of us eat.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble for me to adjust all of the synthesizers to prepare better meals. I’ll check into that,” Jasno promised. Inside the helmet, Avo looked interested, but said nothing as the lift slowed and stopped.
“Here we are,” he said, pointing to what would have looked to most like a simple computer room or engineering workspace, but which Jasno recognized as an old-style foodsynth lab. The various flavorings and bases were spread out on various shelves, the boxes bearing the usual unimaginative formulae on the spines. An old man in a black smock was fussing and fiddling at a workbench. He clearly hailed from the Pylbi system, as his name suggested, his origins confirmed by the two massive hornlike appendages protruding from the top of his hairless head.
Avo approached him with Jasno close on his heels. “Master Hyrzon,” he called, to no avail. He had to place his hand on Hyrzon’s shoulder, which made Hyrzon jump and whirl around with a startled curse on his lips.
“Why are you disturbing me? I’m in the middle of testing a new compound for ulo tea!”
Avo ignored him. “I’ve brought an assistant to work with you. This is Jasno. He has experience working at Port Equinox, and he will show you some new techniques and meal formulae.”
“He has experience working at a port?” Hyrzon’s face went slack in outrage. His small copper-colored eyes narrowed in Jasno’s direction. “I have been around a long time and have visited a few ports in my day. My dear young man, you are sorely deluded if you think I will let Crown Prince Tergus dine on the kind of flavorless bilge they serve at such places.”
“Prince Tergus is in favor of the experiment,” Avo pressed on. “He would like you to work alongside Jasno. He wants you to assess the young man’s talent in culinary matters.”
“Talent! I suspect I could do that simply by looking at him. After all, what has food synthesis got to do with talent! It’s experience and dedication that matter.”
“But Master—”
“You heard Avo,” a familiar voice cut off what was cranking up to become a rant. Jasno turned to see Tergus himself in the doorway, his arms crossed and his shoulder resting against the bulkhead. “This fellow claims he’s the finest food-synthesist at Port Equinox. He even comes complete with his own list of what he calls recipes.”
“Your Highness!” Avo bowed and saluted. Unsure if he should do the same, Jasno simply stood in place and smiled nervously. “We did not expect your presence here.”
“After some reflection, I thought I might help supervise this little experiment.” Tergus smiled at Jasno. It wasn’t exactly a familiar smile, but it was friendlier than he had any right to expect. He was only one step up from a prisoner, if that. “I do want your opinion, Hyrzon.”
“My opinion? Well, fine. I doubt it will take long.” Sputtering, Hyrzon stepped away from the bench. Jasno saw an old-style hand synthesizer there. Most modern chefs used those for samples and test runs, after which they programmed their recipes into the big synthesizers that could feed armies if need be. “Show us what you can do, oh great chef of Port Equinox.”
Hesitantly, Jasno stepped up to the bench and examined the equipment. It was old, true, but with a little practice and experimentation, he felt he could adapt it to his purposes. Perhaps the vintage machinery would complement the vintage meals quite well. “What would you like me to make?”
“Make whatever you consider your best dish,” Tergus said. He picked up the book, which had been haphazardly stuffed back into the toolbox, and dropped it on the workbench with a thump. “I warn you, though, I am notoriously hard to please.”
Jasno imitated the chest-tapping salute he had seen Avo give. “I would be honored to prepare my best dish for you, your Highness.”
A tiny smile piqued Tergus’s lips again. They were extraordinarily soft lips, Jasno noticed, perfectly formed and tinted with a pleasing ruddy color. “Good. I look forward to tasting it this evening. You will attend me privately in my quarters while I sample your creations. Avo will show you where that it. Hyrzon, you will assist Jasno in any way he needs. I would not like to hear later that your lack of cooperation hindered his ability to serve me to the best of his abilities.”
“Of course, your Highness.” Hyrzon blushed and offered a hasty bow of his own. “You know my only concern is for your comfort, your Highne
ss, as has been the case for many years.”
The words were spoken in an obsequious tone, but Jasno didn’t miss the note of sarcasm in them.
“I am delighted to know that your loyalty remains intact. Avo, I will be in my quarters at the usual time. See that everything is ready and accompany Jasno when he has everything ready. Hyrzon, you will instruct Jasno in any particulars he has questions about. He is used to slightly different technology than we can offer him here.” Again his smile flashed, and Jasno found himself smiling back—rather disrespectfully and perhaps idiotically, he realized. Hastily he composed his face.
As he was about to go, Tergus stopped and fixed Jasno with a look Jasno recognized all too well. Elegant prince, fellow mechanic, or boorish space tourist, all men wore the same expression when they had one particular thing on their minds.
“Yes, your Highness.” Jasno felt a rush of confidence. To judge from Tergus’s bright eyes and curled-up lip, not the mention the slight blush on his cheeks, it appeared Tergus had special plans for his dinner that evening.
And Jasno didn’t mind a bit.
Chapter 4
“Enter.”
Tergus’s voice came from inside the room just as the door to his quarters slid open. Jasno walked inside, Avo close behind him, and sucked in a breath at the scene before him.
Tergus reclined on a daybed, dressed in a white toga-like garment and a crimson robe tied loosely at the waist. His legs and feet were bare, revealing sleek, muscular limbs and narrow, tapered feet he crossed casually in front of him. His chestnut hair lay loose across his shoulders and the back of the daybed, and Jasno had a sudden fantasy of tracing those soft strands gently with his fingers. The lights were dim, though not uncomfortably so, and the strains of a slow, wailing instrument wafted over the sound system. Tergus had clearly wanted the proper ambiance to accompany his dining experience.
The Prince and the Programmer Page 3