Princess Grace of Earth

by A K Lambert

  ‘How is Grace taking to him going?’ asked Ann. ‘That’s both of you out of the picture now.’

  ‘She’s all right. She has her little group at Uni. “Grace’s Groupies” Jon calls them.’ Mandy smiled. ‘Because they follow her everywhere.’

  She missed Grace, but both she and Jon had their dreams to pursue. ‘I wish I knew where things were going with them. With no news yet from their home world, I think they’re all getting twitchy. Grace said one or two of them are talking about risking a return, but Douglas won’t consider it. Grace is also aware that some of them are thinking she should be leading them now.’

  ‘He’s been chatting with your father about that,’ said Ann. ‘He thinks so too. It’s the natural progression of a Life Team when the Royal Trainee reaches Grace’s age.’

  ‘Maybe so,’ replied Mandy. ‘But Grace isn’t ready to assume that position.’

  ‘Hmm…’ Her mother was deep thought for a moment. She had a habit of drifting in and out of conversations, she was used to processing a lot of information. Amanda waited for her to drift back in. When she did, she switched the track of the conversation. ‘And how do you feel about Jon leaving? Following his dreams.’

  It was Mandy’s turn to get lost in thought. She knew exactly what her mother was talking about, the enigma that was Jon and Mandy. Just like chalk and cheese. From that first day in the woods, there had been something between them. An attraction she could never understand. When she looked into those incredible blue eyes, there was a connection, one that had never been there with any other man. And that kiss a few years back had had a far greater effect on her than she would ever care to admit. Her mother had always been one of the most switched on people she knew. Nothing got past her. ‘Mother, Jon and I are friends. Our lives follow entirely different paths now. If we ever tried to take our friendship to another level, and it didn’t work, we might never get back to what we have now. I don’t think I want to risk that.’

  Ann left it there and changed the subject again. ‘So. What have you decided to do with your life?’ Mandy looked at her mum, knowing that she wanted to talk about the main reason for their meet up, following her telephone request earlier in the week. ‘Can I have some Mommy time to discuss my future?’

  ‘Well…’ Mandy paused, trying for a little clarity in her now slightly giddy thought processes, ‘…after much deliberation, I’ve decided I want to follow you into politics. I want to be a Member of Parliament.’

  Her mother’s look of horror lasted two or three seconds until Mandy could keep a straight face no longer and burst into laughter. ‘Ha ha, got you.’ A look of total relief spread across her face and quickly turned to mock anger. Mandy knew that the last thing she wanted was for her only daughter to enter politics.

  ‘Seriously though, Mother, you made me study Business Management at Uni.’

  ‘Suggested,’ interrupted Ann.

  ‘And in a couple of months, I’ll finish and get a first.’

  ‘Maybe. Big maybe.’

  ‘I speak three foreign languages. French, German and excellent Mandarin from our two years living in Hong Kong when I was younger.’

  ‘Yes, I was there too, and it was nearer three years.’

  ‘And I want to travel.’ Mandy stopped, indicating the end of this particular, much interrupted, monologue. She knew how to frustrate her mother.

  ‘So....’ She watched her mother roll her hands in the manner that suggested there needed to be more.

  ‘What?’ Ann exclaimed, exasperated, causing a couple of the noisy party to look round.

  Mandy leant forward. ‘Well... I want to join MI6.’

  ‘You can’t get me a second time, Amanda.’ She watched her mother look up at the ceiling. When she looked back, Mandy met her with her most determined face. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you? Explain.’

  ‘I want to be a Business Support Manager for MI6, carrying out coordinating work for overseas operations,’ Mandy replied.

  ‘What does that exactly involve?’ Her mother had a pretty good idea, but wasn’t giving up on the interrogation yet.

  ‘MI6 operatives are tasked to gather information for the good of Great Britain. They need to be managed. Accommodation, finances, documentation. A whole load of backup work to enable them to function. That’s what I want to do. You work with agents in the UK for the first couple of years; then you can work abroad.’

  ‘So, how did you find out about all this, Miss Moneypenny?’ Her mother’s face was curious now rather than intense. ‘Phone them up and ask?’

  ‘Er, not exactly. It’s all on the first page of the MI6 website. How to join the Secret Intelligence Service. What jobs are available. I want to manage data to support intelligence gathering.’

  ‘Have you mentioned this to your father?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He said he thought it was a good idea if you did.’

  ‘Typical.’

  Her mother’s voice softened. ‘You’re not going to be discouraged, are you? You’ve got your father’s eyes and your mother’s determination.’ She considered it. ‘Could be worse, I suppose. You could want to enter politics.’

  Mandy raised her eyebrows.

  ‘There’s more?’ her mother picked up on the unasked question.

  ‘Well, it appears to be a very competitive position with many applicants. For me to get a favourable reply will be pretty difficult.’ She shook her head. ‘I was wondering, Mummy dear, in your position and all, whether you could put a word in for me?’

  She braced herself herself for the inevitable reply.

  ‘That’s not how it works young lady! There is a thing called ethics. The press would have a field day if they found out I was helping my daughter get to the top of the pile for a governmental position.’

  It was still loud in the bar, but that didn’t stop Mandy leaning forward and whispering, ‘They wouldn’t find out. That’s why it’s called the Secret Intelligence Service. It’s not the same as—let me think— as though you were aware of the existence of aliens on the planet, or something, and had kept quiet about it for many years.’ Mandy’s face was the picture of innocence.

  ‘You are a despicable daughter, Amanda Walker.’ Mandy watched her mother drift away again. ‘I do have a meeting with a Home Office civil servant next week. I might just mention in passing that you’re thinking of applying, but that will be all. If you get the job, it will be on your own merits.’

  Mandy smiled at her mother. ‘Thank you.’ She picked up the bottle of wine. ‘More wine, Mother? After all, you are paying.’

  Chapter 25

  Grantham's Discovery

  Preenasette - Trun Rizontella - 2011

  * * *

  Sub Commander Grantham Lea looked out of the window of the Mag Train as it flew due west towards the port city of Santraneed. The rolling landscape meant he could focus on some distant scenery, unlike the past hour when the Forest of Plenary had been a blur through the windows. As usual, his sister was asleep. She could sleep anytime, anywhere and on anything, and would only wake up as they reached their destination, invariably complaining of being hungry. He had already bought her a muffin in readiness.

  They had been sent by Supreme Commander Zander to meet with a member of the Reticent Guard and receive information too sensitive for standard forms of communication, which, over the last year, had become insecure. Their uncle, Anton Pilz, was overseeing the arrangements for their mission. Pilz had become close to Zander since the off world despatch of Commander Mancer two years earlier. He was one of the few faithful members of his inner circle. Zander had even promoted him back to the rank of officer. Grantham knew Zander did not trust Commander Hallot, promoted to his number two by the War Ministry.

  His uncle had welcomed the closer ties with his boss. Strange things were occurring throughout Trun and in its leadership. And the tone of the war had hardened significantly following the Vercetian atrocities and their increased aggress
ion. The creation of a Secret State Police—Sestapol—under the auspices of the Reticent Guard, was a worry and a mystery to all of them and the subject of some wild speculation.

  They, or more precisely he, was to meet Captain Karter of the Reticent Guard on reaching Santraneed and would be handed the communication. He was to return the sealed Envogram directly into Zander’s hands. Bess was his backup, in case anything went wrong. She had certain skillsets that made her good to have in a fight, and their excellent telepathic rapport, a commonality in twins, was also a big plus when dealing with someone from the RG.

  Grantham had little trust for the Reticent Guard. A secret organisation, that dealt in secrets, and were autonomous of the military or council. Although working directly with both groups, they tended to remain at arm’s length. Their current leader, General Kirk-am, was part of the Council’s Inner Circle. She held an official position equal to Gor and Zander, ensuring the RG’s complete independence. Uncle Anton would dismiss Grantham’s mistrust though, citing that the Trun Rizontella society needed a reliable RG. “It’s vital the Reticent Guard remain apart, and enforces the standards we all adhere to. Their integrity is paramount, and any corruption of them would be devastating for us.’

  Nevertheless, he still wanted his sister close.

  The Mag Train started its long slowdown for its final destination—Santraneed. Bess stirred, slowly waking and completely ignoring him. Strangers on a train sharing a table. She reached for the package he’d pushed across to her and started eating the muffin. She was dressed as a military nurse, the classic extensions to her head cap that denoted her profession also helped to cover her features, masking her resemblance to him.

  Grantham loved this old trading port and always enjoyed visiting. It was one of the few Trun cities that retained many of its historic features. The train stopped in the peripheral newer part of the city. All of the commercial, military and political buildings were in this quarter, but his meeting was elsewhere, down at the dockside. He could see advantages and disadvantages to this. His plan was to walk from the station and give Bess time to pick up transport and follow at a discreet distance. Bess was to make contact with Major Tang, an old colleague of Mancer’s at the local military HQ, who would give her anything she needed.

  As he made his way from the station, the topography began sloping dramatically downwards to the sea, and Grantham tried to imagine the bustling port in its heyday.

  The most dramatic part of the view from here were the Needles, the shortest sea stretch between the landmasses of Trun and Verceti. A myriad of trading ships would have weaved their way between the hundreds of tiny sharp-pointed volcanic islands that reached upwards to the sky. The Trun ships with hulls deep in the water, trading their hard gotten ores and minerals mined from the outer reaches of their wild lands, while the Vercetian’s majestic clippers would carry the exotic foods and spices grown on their abundantly fertile land. It must have been a sight to behold, with hundreds of cranes loading and offloading the trading ships and a bustling infrastructure of ancillary transport ready to distribute goods throughout the land. But now there were no ships, and the cranes that were left standing hadn’t moved in over two hundred years. The only thing to see now was the faint shimmer of the Vercetian force field forming the impenetrable curtain between the two nations.

  Grantham continued on. Winding roads surrounded by derelict buildings guided him to the docks where he was to meet Karter at the Windward Tavern, one of the few alehouses still operating.

  There was just a sprinkling of people at the dockside, carving out goodness knows what sort of living. He felt he’d gone three hundred years back in time. None of the modern conveniences you would find in an average city. The tavern didn’t even show up on his finger tablet; he had to ask for directions.

  When he arrived, the inn sign was creaking quietly in the gentle breeze. Between the words Windward and Tavern was a painting of an old sailing vessel, of a kind probably not seen for half a millennia. He needed to duck to get through the front door, and once inside it took a few moments before his vision adjusted to the darkness of the room. Karter was at the bar. They ID checked each other. After getting a beer, he suggested they retire into one of the alcoves. Grantham made a mental note of who was already in the room.

  ‘I hope you’re staying for food as well. The situation isn’t as straightforward as me giving you the Envogram and you disappearing. There’s more to it.’ Karter leant forward and whispered, ‘I think your superior is on to something.’

  Grantham was quiet for a moment. Not what Zander had asked. He would have to tread carefully here. ‘How secure are we here? If the conversation is going off the beaten track.’

  Karter’s smile was warm and appeared sincere. ‘You’re dealing with my organisation now, Commander. We have electronically swept the whole building and put surveillance blockers in place. We are secure.’

  He hoped Bess was in position. “This might take longer.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  He decided he would need to tread carefully. ‘I better order some food, then. Where’s the menu?’

  They ordered food and another beer. Grantham waited until his spicy game dish turned up before carrying on the discussion. ‘So why should I disregard my boss’s instructions just to pick up the Envogram and go?’

  Karter leant forward again, which for someone with complete confidence in his security, seemed odd. ‘Because I don’t believe the contents are what you were sent for. I think they’ve been switched for something possibly… well, less contentious. And by someone with more influence in the RG than my boss.’

  ‘Have you proof of this?’ Grantham found himself leaning forward.

  ‘Not conclusive proof. We very rarely work in indisputable facts.’ Karter was pensive. ‘This is the shadow world. Everything here is hearsay, secondhand, overheard. The only way we’re going to prove our suspicions is to open the Envogram and read its contents.’

  “Possible problems. Stay alert.”

  “Will do. There are three RG’s out here. I’ll visit them.”

  ‘You’re suspicious. So you expect me to hand over a document that is for my boss’s eyes only, based upon here-say, and secondhand or overheard comments from your shadow world?’ The look on Grantham’s face implied this wasn’t going to happen. He was also seriously considering the possibility that this was a setup.

  Karter smiled. ‘You put it that way, and I would agree with you.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘Look. Let’s put our cards on the table. The Envogram was given to me yesterday by my superior, known to your boss. While travelling here, I placed the Envogram in the deposit car—standard protocol. Before doing this I marked it—my private insurance. I’m an old fashioned soul; it’s just how I am. Someone tampered with it.’ He handed it to Grantham and produced a micro scanner from his satchel. ‘Look there. And this is the image taken earlier.’ We’re talking about a seriously difficult thing—breaking into an Envogram. Sonic locks, tracer seams, etc., and doing it in the deposit car of a Mag train. It would need some serious clout to get that done.’

  Grantham studied the data. It appeared to bear out Karter’s suspicions. ‘Say we open it and read the contents. Neither you nor I know what the message should say, so we aren’t going to know if it’s been modified.’

  “Get as close as possible.”

  ‘Agreed. But we do know the contents should be revealing, to say the least. My boss wouldn’t be going to all this trouble to inform the Supreme Commander of the military something that didn’t have far-reaching implications. And to do it clandestinely rather than through some committee suggests some parties need keeping in the dark.’

  Grantham was surprised Karter knew that Zander was the intended recipient. He had never mentioned it. Would Karter have been told? Could he trust this man? ‘So, if we do open it, read it and decide someone has tampered with it, what’s our course of action? You have to go back to your superior and tell him you suspected outside i
nterference and opened it. It would alert whoever tampered with the Envogram that we’re on to them. And, we’d be no further forward in obtaining the correct information.’

  Karter shrugged.

  “Coming out hot, any time now.”

  Grantham reached into his pocket while pushing the scanner further on the table with his other hand. ‘What is this mark here?’ he asked.

  Karter leant forward, allowing Grantham to touch his stun taser on the back of Karter’s hand. The barely audible hum immobilised him instantly. Grantham caught his head and rested it gently on the table, picked up the Envogram and carried on talking. ‘Do you see that small mark there? Yes, that one? I won’t be a moment. Nature calls.’

  Grantham stepped out of the alcove and stretched casually, looking around for the toilet, aware of at least two in the room paying him far more attention than when he’d entered. He paused, checking his tablet before deftly ducking out of the front door. There was confusion behind him; he wouldn’t have much time.

  ‘Jump on, quick!’ Bess skidded to a halt on a Quadbike, ‘I’ve disabled two of the three scouts out here, but the third will see us soon enough.’

  ‘Is this the best transport you could come up with?’ asked Grantham, tension in his voice.

  ‘Relax, brother. The quad is just the quick little runaround that will get us to our Skyjet. Unless, of course, you expected me to fly it straight down the street here.’ Bess was shouting now as she accelerated forward and turned sharply, up a tight alleyway. ‘They won’t have anything like this.’

  ‘How long?’ He could hardly hear himself.

  ‘Five minutes. We have to get in the air before they do.’

  One of Karter’s colleagues from the bar was attending him. In a daze, he asked, ‘Where’s the boy?’

  ‘He dashed out about thirty seconds ago. Jamba went after him.’

  ‘Find out what’s happening outside. Contact Samson.’

  Jamba quickly relayed the message, while Karter tried to get his fried brain back in gear.