One Love

by Pam Uphoff

  One Love

  Pam Uphoff

  Copyright © 2018 Pamela Uphoff

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN

  978-1-939746-02-3

  This is a work of fiction.

  All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional.

  Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art:

  Photo 106168433 © Mary Katherine Wynn - Dreamstime.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Party Time in an Election Year

  Chapter Two

  Party’s Over, Back To Work

  Chapter Three

  Geology Project, with Diamonds

  Chapter Four

  Help or Hinder?

  Chapter Five

  Parents and Politics

  Chapter Six

  The Finest Wedding Money Can Buy!

  Chapter Seven

  Revolt in 1410 yp

  Chapter Eight

  Live Interview of a Warrior

  Chapter Nine

  A Challenge

  Chapter Ten

  Dueling Dresses

  Chapter Eleven

  A Serious Miscalculation

  Chapter Twelve

  Today’s the Day!

  Other Titles by Pam Uphoff

  Chapter One

  Party Time in an Election Year

  "Thank the One you're back!" Paer's voice was loud over the comm.

  Ebsa paused, half out of his grubby field khakis. "Problem?"

  "It's my birthday! Dad's arranged this huge party, practically a ball, and invited everyone I've ever met in my entire life. The party starts in three hours, you have to get here." She sounded desperate.

  "Paer? Are you alright?"

  "Yes! It's just . . . men keep cornering me and . . . explaining what strategically valuable husbands they would be. I'm getting calls from arrangers. Please come. I need your sanity."

  "Right. Three hours. Government House or Versalle?"

  "Government House. Dad's . . . well, he needs to regularly get into the news, and . . . "

  "A big birthday bash for his daughter works nicely. Right. Tell all the guards to let me in, please."

  "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

  "I still have to clear it with Ajha."

  All the rich men bringing her presents . . . He tossed a quick glance at his footlocker. Some nice mineral samples, some spectacular crystals, a bit of gold. Collected from a dozen expeditions to various parallel Earths. Oh hell, forget those things. I have the perfect gift, something none of them can beat. And no import license . . .

  A deep exhalation over the comm. "Yes. Go clear it with him. Wow. Just hearing your voice has helped. I'll be fine if you can't come."

  He snorted. "Oooo, that had putting up a good front all over it. I'd better run."

  Ebsa punched off, and tapped in Ajha's code, while pulling up the right forms on his comp.

  Good thing I know the Subdirector of Exploration so well . . .

  He tapped away at the form while the wait light flashed.

  Click. "Ebsa? Problem? Didn't know you were back."

  "Just got in. Three day break. No problems other than the tsetse flies, and the voracious fauna. Even Ra’d is getting tired of shooting lions, leopards, jackals, wild dogs, poisonous snakes . . . and the herbivores are even more dangerous. But the mining companies are going to be killing each other for access. Umm . . . Ajha, do you owe me any favors?"

  "Free lessons in the subtle use of influence?"

  "Leave to depart almost immediately for Paer's birthday party in Paris and an import permit for the present I want to give her?"

  Finished the form . . . sent it.

  "Import permit? I'm almost afraid to ask . . . Ah, here's your form. You want to import two . . . Wait a minute. You have two actual . . . in a bubble, I presume? Where did you get them and for how long have you not been telling me about them?"

  "Umm, four years? They're from that world where Ra'd and I first encountered the Helios. I keep forgetting about them." Ebsa walked to the kitchen fab and ordered a bucket of pseudo tomato cubes. And a large red ribbon.

  "I really don't know how you fail to mention things like this to me, now and then. What is Paer going to do with them?"

  "Play with them until she finds a good zoo to take them, or releases them to the wild back on their world of origin."

  There was a thump from the comm that he hoped wasn't Ajha's head hitting the desk.

  "Right. Your permit is in the works. Go with my blessings or some such nonsense."

  Ebsa found the bar handles of the double bubble at the bottom of a drawer and opened the bubble. Excited cheeps. He pulled out the big dog crate, and checked for cleanliness. With the double bubble, essentially no time had passed and the bedding was still clean.

  "No, you can't come out and play, and no I'm not feeding you yet. Paer will feed you." He shoved the container of tomato cubes into the bubble, tied the ribbon around the crate and slid it back in as well. The cheeping died away as he closed the bubble.

  Then into the shower. Into his good suit. He frowned a bit at the slight fraying around the lapels. I guess I need a new suit. But it'll do for now.

  A long line at the corridor, and then Paris traffic being what it was, he was late when he finally pulled up to the side gate at Government House.

  At that point he got the expedited treatment. A grinning guard directed him around to a side entrance, where Scar took the wheel to park the car while Ohhe hustled him inside. "Rescue the poor kid from that bunch of snobby leeches."

  "I'll do my best." Ebsa scanned the room. The crowd thickened from left to right, where Paer was seated, and apparently in the process of opening presents. A pair of newsies with almost discreet vidcams riding their shoulders. One of them, Koil of course, turned to get a good shot of Ebsa.

  Ebsa edged into the group, trying to pick up cues as to how far along the party had gotten. It looked like Paer was on the last present. Buffet tables were in the process of being refilled. Quiet music, no dancing.

  Up front a young man knelt and produced a small box. Just right for a ring.

  "Paer , I have the highest regard . . . "

  "No." Paer pushed back in her chair. "Don't. Just don't."

  "Paer, will you . . . "

  "No."

  "Do me the honor . . . "

  "No."

  "Of becoming my . . ."

  "No! For the One's sake, Evdu . . . "

  "Wife?" The idiot finally sounded a bit uncertain.

  "No."

  "But, but . . . " Now baffled.

  "No."

  "My father . . . " But still trying.

  Paer lifted her eyes, and spotted Ebsa. She lit up and jumped up out of the chair.

  Dodged the idiot, who had risen with her and apparently thought he should kiss her. She didn't even notice. Her elbow to his ribs was just a reflexive clearing of an obstacle and barely thumped him. Unfortunately.

  Then Paer reached him and threw her arms around him. "You made it! I was getting worried."

  "Traffic. Sorry."

  "Who is this?" The idiot had followed.

  Everyone was gawping at Paer's public display of affection.

  "Ah, Ebsa, this is Evdu Withione Paris. Son of the Minister of Health. Doo, this is Ebsa Clostuone Montevideo, a colleague of mine at Exterior and a Warr . . . "

  "Clostuone! What are you doing hugging a Clostuone?"

  Nods and murmured agreement all through the crowd. And other murmurs. "Old fashioned suit . . . " "Country hick . . . " "A bit threadbare . . . "

  Paer stiffened, a faint growl . . .

  "And he showed up late without a present." Idiot, nose in the air.


  "Oh, yeah." Ebsa grinned and turned to Paer. Pulled out the metal bars, which of course she recognized as the handles of a dimensional bubble. "I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to give you these."

  He knelt on the floor and opened them. Pulled out the crate, to much excited cheeping from inside.

  "Ebsa, what in the One . . . "

  Paer opened the door and two critters the size of large clumsy puppies crowded out, cheeping in excitement. A little fluff of feathers, but naked skin showing, faint striping, . . . with neck shields and three stubby horns above their beaks.

  "Triceratops?" Paer folded up on the floor as the clumsy babies milled about, cheeping in confusion. Then identifying Ebsa, they charged up and butted him and tried to climb into his arms.

  "Yep, they hatched, oh, their time line, maybe a month ago." He pulled the bucket out of the bubble. "They love tomato cubes." He hastily pulled off his coat and spread it in her lap. Handed her the bucket.

  The chicks transferred their allegiance to her immediately and slurped, smacked, and dripped tomato everywhere. Mostly in her lap.

  And the giggling Paer didn't seem to mind at all, as she fed them cubes. The coat caught most of the drippage.

  Ebsa glanced to the side. A beaming President of the Empire wiped a tear from his eye. "That's my little girl."

  The other guests of a more mature age were split between rueful shakings of heads or appalled disbelief. The newsies were grinning and getting it all.

  The younger cohort was mostly aghast.

  Fortunately for the sake of the party, the chicks quickly stuffed themselves, pooed on Ebsa's coat, and collapsed for a nap.

  Ebsa put the puppies, or chicks or whatever baby triceratops ought to be called, back in the crate. A snickering maid took Ebsa's coat away, holding it at arm's length.

  Paer was still grinning, and took his arm. "Dad? I'm going to stand you up on the first dance."

  Evdu hissed faintly, ". . . dead meat, Closey."

  "Of course, Honey."

  Ebsa offered an elbow and led Paer to the dance floor as the band segued into a waltz.

  If looks could kill, Evdu would have had his wish five times over.

  At least the President looked happy.

  Chapter Two

  Party’s Over, Back To Work

  “Tsetse flies?” Paer looked over at Ebsa, as he pulled into the line at the corridor to Gate City.

  “Yeah. Ra’d says it’s not fair, the worst danger not being amenable to just shooting it.” Ebsa grinned. “And the elephant stampede! I don’t know why they were in such a big hurry, but we just put up the strongest shield we could manage, wedge shaped, with the crawler at the point, so they sort of bounced off the angled sides and kept going.”

  Paer sighed. “And I’m stuck in the hospital. Again! Maybe I’ll plan a tsetse fly eradication program.”

  “I’d love it—especially if you could come supervise it.” He sighed wistfully.

  Paer nodded. “We really need some private time.” She glanced at her watch.

  “Yeah, with the traffic, I’m barely going to get you to the hospital for your shift. And I might have enough time to run my field clothes through the wash.”

  “Ebsa, you are such a bachelor! Ick!”

  Drat. I need to change that, but Dad . . . there are times I hate being the president’s daughter. But this should be his last election, so maybe in a year . . . two at the most. I mean, we’re both still young, what’s the rush?

  She gazed as his profile as he drove forward. He’s even a good driver. The guards don’t worry about him showing off and getting me killed or, or, anything.

  She grinned suddenly. And he gave me two baby triceratops! Anyone who knows me this well is dangerous. And dangerously yummy.

  But yummy or not, he did barely have time to kiss her goodbye, before she bolted through the hospital staff’s door to check in.

  She spent the whole shift working on broken bones and a nasty bit of nerve damage. “Doc, you need to send more people to Embassy to train with Dr. Heath.”

  Dr. Agre sighed. “Indeed. I’ve sent them, and they do come back better. I went across myself and talked to Dr. Heath. She says you have a rare combination of seeing, understanding, and being able to manipulate tissue.” The old doctor grinned wryly. “Congratulations! You’re the best student she’s had since Xen Wolfson.”

  “Ooo! High flattery.” She glanced back at the room she’d just left. “I’ve got Irbw’s nerve cells splitting. I’ll check in a couple of times a day, it may take two or three days’ worth to span that gouged out bit. Then we’ll see if I can get the fibers all sorted out and connected to the right one on the other side.”

  Dr. Agre sighed. “Call me, and I’ll round up the usual suspects to watch how you do it.”

  “Right. Do you suppose we need to catch potential medgicians earlier? I could pop into the School and coach a few of the Medical Aid classes. Maybe identify people with potential?”

  “Yeah, right after you liaise with the Elf Project people. No, don’t look excited, there’s still no contact.”

  Paer nodded. “It’s been a year and a half. I suspect they don’t want to contact us.”

  And on her break, she researched the tsetse fly.

  Insecticides, traps, sterile male release, and of course the real threat was the diseases they carried. She’d need to know what that world’s Tsetse’s were transmitting, then if they could eradicate the disease in the native species that was hosting it . . . Not that eradicating a nasty bloodsucking fly wasn’t a good idea in itself.

  She sent a message to Ebsa about the best insecticide to use around their campsite and how to get samples so she could identify the diseases, then went back to work.

  ***

  Paer finally got across. Which was always good, even if it was only to the Halfway World.

  Halfway, energy-wise, to the part of the multiverse where they’d found worlds where a different branch of the human tree had become the dominant, tool using, civilization building people. The Elves—that they’d found before they stopped searching this direction—were mostly short and slender. Mostly hunter-gatherer level, some Worlds with agriculture . . . and one with high tech, including dimensional travel.

  They’d only met them once. She and Ebsa had picked up as much of their language as their short time together had allowed.

  An old dimensional beacon had apparently drawn their interest to a very dangerous world. Now, an Intel subdirectorate research team had set up on this world, and were running a beacon from here.

  More power for the beacon, half the distance.

  No response.

  Yet.

  But Paer spent two days speaking squeaky Elf to the linguists and sociologists. Trying—again—to remember every little detail.

  Then back to work. Coaching resentful medgicians—medical magicians—double and triple her age in the Comet Fall techniques.

  And interviews. No matter what her job was, she remained the daughter of the President of the Empire . . . and she had baby dinosaurs. Which led to discussions about the practical uses for dimensional bubbles.

  “A year on the outside is less than an hour on the inside. Double bubbles are frighteningly slow. Cute Chick and Ugly Puppy have been sleeping off their tomato dinner for a couple of minutes. My Olympic jumper Crystal, and my pony Raccio, have been bubbled for the better part of seven years. Mind you, I get Crystal out and ride her occasionally, and she got used for the jumping scenes in one of those vids, but in between, they don’t age.

  “These sorts of things would be so nice for other pets as well. Your dog could be bubbled while you go to work or overnight. While you’re on vacation. You can take them with you, for that matter.”

  Koil nodded.

  Our favorite newsie, who helped us solve a murder our friend had been convicted of. I probably shouldn’t give even her so much access . . . but she’s never tried to trap any of us, never ambushed us. I guess I’ll kee
p her.

  “With that much bubble time, a pet could live thirty or forty of the owner’s years.” Paer bit her lip and tiptoed toward the deep end. “Not to mention, never needing a babysitter again. ‘Got the kids right here in my purse.’ Or some such.”

  Koil choked. "But, but . . . people couldn't, wouldn't, with babies!"

  "Well, the Fallen Witches often do, but even so, you’d have to be much more careful with babies. Not leave the handles someplace where they could be stolen, or, well, I believe bubbles are air and water permeable, so you could drown or suffocate someone inside."

  “Paer, I swear every time I interview you, you manage to terrify me.”

  Paer laughed. “The speed the world, the Multiverse, is changing terrifies me sometimes.”

  ***

  Paer took a weekend off to go to Paris . . . and found herself attracting men, with marriage proposals. Fortunately most were businesslike and took their dismissal well enough.

  Evdu kept showing up every time she went anywhere. Museums, coffee shops. And two out of three formal dinners. The formal dinners were part of the price of being the president’s daughter.

  She gave up and rode. A lot.

  And accepted an official car, with chauffeur, to get her back to Gate City after Sunday dinner. Her apartment was a relief, even if it was five in the morning when she collapsed in bed to catch a few hours’ sleep before taking a late shift at the hospital.

  And in the afternoon, a call out for a medical emergency, Across. She grabbed the medical cases shoved at her and followed the other emergency staff out.

  Chapter Three

  Geology Project, with Diamonds

  “Hey, Paer says that dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane we used on Dystopia will help the tsetse fly problem.”

  Ra’d frowned. “DDT? You actually used DDT on your giant bugs?”

  Ebsa eyed the man. “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that as a logical acronym. I’ve read about it. Do you mean to tell me that you’re . . . well . . . one generation removed from that old Earth panic about it killing all the birds?”