by S. H. Jucha
“Those would be the ones,” Ellie replied.
Tatia regarded the royal matriarch. “Your Excellency, perhaps your offspring has led too sheltered a life on Na-Tikkook,” she said. “It’s important that you know those are our first impressions. If you want to keep Tanistok the way she behaves now, we suggest you remove her from our presence immediately. Otherwise, you might not recognize the offspring who returns an annual from now.”
Tockitak’s lips bared her teeth ever so briefly. It was one of the few times that the diplomatic mask had fallen. Few had ever spoken so bluntly to her. Her eyes swung from one Omnian to the next. While she detected some sympathy, the faces were unrelenting. Doubt about her decision loomed within her mind, and she suddenly feared for her offspring.
“Do you dislike Tanistok?” she asked Tatia.
“It isn’t a matter of whether we like or dislike Tanistok,” Tatia replied. “She exudes arrogance, and that quickly irritates individuals. Worse, her poor behavior seems to stem from a lack of experience in dealing with others. In time, we can help her.”
“You brought her to us,” Étienne added kindly. “You must see that an intervention is needed.”
While Tockitak wrestled with her indecision, Jastitock said quietly, “We do see the need. Understand, please, this is a difficult decision for us.”
“We do understand,” Ellie replied. “We’re attempting to be honest with you. Tanistok’s behavior will change, and it will change for the better. If she’s being groomed to be the next monarch, which is what we surmise, then this is an absolutely necessary step for her.”
Tockitak appeared to relent and accept the Omnians’ messages. She voiced her final concern. “You aren’t intending to encounter any conflicts during this voyage, are you?”
“No,” Tatia replied. “If the fleet must sail for an engagement, we’ll put Tanistok aboard a Trident, give her a squadron escort, and send her home.”
“That would be appreciated,” Tockitak said with relief.
“Can you tell us more about the fleet’s destinations?” Jastitock asked.
While the principals in the corridor had reached an understanding, it wasn’t proceeding so well inside the salon.
“I can imagine you might have a few thoughts for me, Alex, before I occupy my suite and am assigned an administrator and an adequate number of attendants,” Tanistok stated imperially.
When Alex didn’t immediately reply, Tanistok continued to list her needs and how she proposed others on the ship should be prepared to work with her.
Tanistok blinked. Her gaze swung from Julien to Alex and Renée, who’d yet to say a word to her. She was unsure how to proceed. In the immediate sphere of family and advisors, discussions were always lively, and her mind was constantly engaged. Now that she thought about it, so was her muzzle.
“Julien has offered me advice, but I’m unsure how to use it,” Tanistok admitted.
“Why?” Renée asked.
“He points out that I’ve failed to ask the two of you for permission. Furthermore, it might be too late,” Tanistok replied.
“It might be,” Alex said. “You’d have to undo just about everything you’ve said since you entered this suite.”
Tanistok’s temper, which she’d always possessed, rose quickly at the rebuke. She fought to control the dark emotion, sure that the Omnians witnessed her control slipping. She dearly wanted to accompany Alex and Renée, but she wanted to do that under her own terms. The juxtaposition of those two thoughts, which she’d just heard from Julien were incompatible, frustrated her.
Swallowing her pride, Tanistok rose. Trying to maintain a semblance of dignity, she leveled her gaze at Alex to say that she did this under protest. The Omnians didn’t display any semblance of regret or sympathy, which did nothing to buoy her ego. When Tanistok reached the suite’s door, she paused, exhaled deeply, squared her slender shoulders, swept the cape’s right side over her shoulder, and turned.
“Thank you for seeing me, Alex Racine, Renée de Guirnon, and Julien,” she said brightly. It was more than a little artificial, but it was her best attempt at sociability.
The response she received was unexpected. Alex laughed heartily. Renée winced, but appeared sympathetic, and a strange shower of sparkles floated around Julien’s head.
Tanistok couldn’t help herself. The circumstances were absurd, and she chittered self-consciously.
“Now,” Alex said, indicating the settee, where the royal couple had sat, “let’s talk and have a serious discussion.”
2: Hosting Opportunity
There were strained goodbyes among the royal family, but the monarch and her mate were resigned to giving their headstrong offspring what she’d demanded and needed.
While Tanistok waited beside the baggage carriers to be taken to her suite, an Omnian conversation ensued.
Renée had chosen a well-appointed suite for Tanistok, which Alex felt sent the wrong message. Fortunately for him, Renée was in the minority opinion, and he could remain quiet.
Julien added.
Renée queried.
Julien didn’t miss the gentle smile that briefly formed on Alex’s face.
Lydia interjected.
Julien’s reply was to point out that higher intelligences knew how to pick their battles.
“You were a lot of help,” Renée declared in annoyed tones to Alex, as she removed the drink cups and mugs. She paused when Alex didn’t respond. “You didn’t agree with me,” she accused.
“No, I didn’t,” Alex replied. “We’ve an annual, more or less, to shift Tanistok’s social manners and acquaint her with the challenges of intersystem politics. That’s not much time. I can’t think of another way to do this than to immerse her in our way of life.”
“She might not be able to adopt what we teach her,” Renée pointed out
.
“Maybe not, but don’t you think Tockitak and Jastitock need to know that?” Alex inquired.
Renée sat facing Alex on the couch. She considered what the SADEs and he had said. Her impression was that they were being cruel to a young royal Jatouche who was effectively no older than a late teen. Then again, she considered the idea that she was making the same mistakes as the Jatouche monarch by being overprotective of the young royal, to Tanistok’s detriment.
“The treatment of Tanistok sounds harsh to me, but the SADEs and you are probably right,” Renée replied. “She might have the strongest personality of the siblings, but that doesn’t necessarily qualify her to be the future monarch.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Alex said quietly and reached for Renée’s hand.
In the corridor, Lydia introduced herself to Tanistok and led her and the baggage carriers to the assigned quarters.
After a brief tour of the cabin, Tanistok asked, “This is to be the extent of my accommodations?”
“You’ve everything you need here,” Lydia replied. “It has a place to entertain guests, a separate sleeping quarters, and private facilities.”
“The bathing facilities in my royal apartment are larger than this main space,” Tanistok objected, swinging her arm around the cabin. “Are you sure that this is what Alex assigned me?”
“Hector, the fleet commander and captain of this city-ship, assigned you these quarters,” Lydia replied.
“I see the error,” Tanistok declared. She attempted to link directly with Alex. Unfortunately, she was out of range, which necessitated her implant’s request be relayed through the ship’s controller. That’s where her link ended.
By mutual agreement, Hector and Julien had blocked Tanistok’s access to almost everyone. She would be allowed to communicate with one individual — Lydia.
“I can only link with you,” Tanistok said with frustration, when her attempts failed.
“That’s correct, Your Highness,” Lydia said calmly. “You’re on this ship and in our company to learn. We’ll be managing your education.”
“This isn’t what I require,” Tanistok objected.
“That’s understandable,” Lydia replied. “However, it’s our observations that biological youths rarely know how best to direct their learning. We’ll help you widen your perspectives and make use of the wisdom of others.”
Tanistok sat dejectedly on the room’s single couch. She eyed the meager furnishings.
The attendants had piled Tanistok’s baggage in a corner, before Lydia had dismissed them. They’d hesitated, but Lydia had told them they needed to hurry to catch the traveler that was ready to return them to Triton. Otherwise, they would be sailing with the city-ship. That put wings under the attendants’ feet. To add to Tanistok’s misery, she realized she would have to manage her own wardrobe.
“I’m hungry. How do I order food service?” Tanistok asked.
“Allow me to guide you to a meal room, where you can choose what you wish to eat,” Lydia replied.
This was another ignominious aspect of Tanistok’s new shipboard life. She was expected to become self-sufficient.
“Will I never get to see Alex and Renée?” Tanistok asked.
“Certainly, you’ll have opportunities,” Lydia replied. “At mealtimes, you’ll sit at the head table with them. Then, when our co-leaders meet with world leaders, there’s the possibility that you’ll accompany them. Your continuing participation will depend on how you handle yourself.”
“How am I to know how to do that without having the experiences?” Tanistok whined.
“That’s why I’m here,” Lydia returned with a bright smile. “I’m to be your teacher.”
* * * * *
During the time it took the Our People to sail to Sol, Tanistok did get to sit with the members of the head table at every meal. However, her attendance was conditional, which chafed her. She’d been told by Lydia that she could respond succinctly to direct questions. Other than that, she was to listen. The SADE had warned her that her general silence was a test. If she failed the test, then she wouldn’t sit at the head table.
Julien had shared Lydia’s rule with everyone who sat with Alex and Renée for meals. Renée thought the rules were overly restrictive. No one else who had talked to Tanistok in the corridor or the parks for more than five minutes agreed with Renée.
When the city-ship ended its transit outside the Sol system, Tanistok was allowed to attend the initial contact on the bridge. She stood at the rear with Lydia clear of the vid pickup. As a royal, she thought it an improper place for her.
“Greetings, President Fowler,” Alex said. He’d allowed time for the mining outposts and outer stations to pick up his fleet’s arrival and communicate it to Nikki.
When Alex’s face appeared on her monitor, Nikki laughed heartily. “Alex, every time I receive notice of an Omnian fleet entering our space, my heart lurches. I realize that it’s an ingrained habit from too many decades under United Earth’s harsh governance, but I wonder if I’ll ever lose the reaction.”
“We’ll probably always be tormented by our memories, President Fowler, but if we build better worlds, our children won’t have to be plagued by those types of memories,” Alex replied.
“Is it time, Alex?” Nikki asked, with a broad grin on her face. When she saw Alex’s hesitation, she laughed and clapped her hands. “You don’t know how good it feels to finally, for once, be ahead of you. Make for Earth, Alex. My assistant, Portia, will send you the coordinates. You’ll be surprised how much progress we’ve made.”
“We are on the same subject, Madam President, aren’t we?” Alex queried.
“You’re here to discuss your galactic conclave, aren’t you?” Nikki replied. Doubt rose briefly within her, the old specters returning.
“Yes,” Alex replied, relieved that there wasn’t some sort of confusion.
“Good, then we’re in sync,” Nikki said, also relieved. “I’ll see you and your companions soon.” Then Nikki ended the call and returned to her work.
Alex surveyed his audience. “I think that was good news,” he said. Then he eyed the coterie of SADEs for an explanation. But it was the snickers and strained faces of humans, hiding smiles, which drew his attention. “What?” he asked, turning in a complete circle.
“Alex, you can’t have expected this grand strategy that you’ve been espousing for nearly two annuals to be kept a secret,” Renée said. “If we’re aware how important it is to you, how many others, after all this time, know that too?”
Alex regarded Tatia, whose normally taciturn face threatened to erupt in laughter. “Who’ve you been talking to at Sol?” he asked.
“Our friends, of course,” Tatia replied.
“Patrice Morris and Olawale Wombo,” Alex supplied.
“Who have the ear of Sol’s president,” Tatia finished. “Despite the distances that have made communications slow, we’ve managed to lay a good foundation.”
“So, what part is left to play?” Alex asked, feeling that he was late to the party.
“All that we’ve achieved, Alex,” Julien said, “is the president’s tacit acceptance of the concept. Her approval will depend on what details you tell her and the Assembly of representatives.”
Alex nodded thoughtfully. Then he turned slowly in another complete circle, as he said, “Thank you, everyone, for your efforts.”
The humans exited the bridge, while several SADEs remained, including Lydia, who kept Tanistok beside her.
Suddenly, Tanistok joined a conference link with Julien, Hector, Z, Miranda, and Lydia.
Tanistok realized that everything she’d shared with Lydia was known by every other SADE. She was embarrassed, but even that emotion was brief. A dizzying array of scenarios spilled into her implant. She only had time to catch glimpses of them. It never occurred to her to block the incoming stream. Later, she would spend many hours reviewing them.
One thing would become clear to the royal youngling. Force and leverage weren’t substitutes for persuasion to ideals. If Alex pressured world leaders, they would resent his domination.
Eventually, technological equality would be achieved. Then there would be no need for the leaders to heed Alex. Worse, the conclave would have been organized under less-than-ideal conditions. More than likely, the amalgamation would simply become a collective economic market. There would be little concern for the social needs of the citizenry or of the developing races.
In that disruptive environment, the defunct philosophies of United Earth might come to the forefront, once again, except on a much broader scale. Nikki’s feared specters might truly live.
* * * * *
Tanistok had days to review the information that the SADEs had given her. Their ability to postulate futures fascinated her. The result was that Tanistok spent little time pestering the city-ship’s inhabitants with her imperial opinions. Instead, she stayed in her cabin with her eyes closed as the scenarios spooled from her implant.