Princess Grace of Earth

by A K Lambert

  ‘Here’s your drink.’ Ken slid a lemon and lime to Grace. ‘Anna has been finalising plans for our safari on Saturday. She’s not the least bit excited about it. You’re still coming, Grace?’

  ‘Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

  Grace had, in fact, spent weeks negotiating this day out with Douglas.

  Losing a day of Life Team training was one thing, but being out for the day without Peter and Helen close by was another.

  ‘We’ll be in a small safari park, just a few miles from Cork. What can happen?’ Grace was exasperated. ‘Just one day without my minders.’

  It had taken a full blown meeting of Douglas, Gwyneth, William, Peter and Helen, to decide the risks involved were minimal.

  ‘She has to be given some freedom now and again, Prime,’ said Temper. ‘She’s an adult now.’

  So it was that Grace left with Amanda and the other three that Saturday morning, for the first time in her life free of the Life Team.

  The bus ride from Cork city centre to the park took about forty-five minutes. As Anna had predicted, it was an overcast, but warm day.

  After entering the park at the main entrance, they took stock and studied the maps they had purchased.

  ‘It’s a one-way system,’ said Anna, knowing the park off by heart. ‘We head off through that open grassy range called the Cheetah Run until we get to the Asian Sanctuary, which is a new development still under construction.’

  They set off, chatting excitedly. There was a group of American tourists in front of them with cameras pointing and clicking in every direction.

  ‘Why is called the Cheetah Run?’ asked Mandy.

  ‘You’ll find that out at three-o-clock this afternoon,’ Anna informed them. ‘That’s when they feed the cheetahs, making them work—or in this case run— for their dinner. Chances of seeing them up close this morning are slim.’

  Right behind them was a party of very excited schoolchildren aged seven or eight, with teachers and parents making up about a third of the party. After a few minutes, one of the children spotted four cheetahs about fifty metres away, loping slowly towards them.

  All three parties stopped to watch and photograph this very unusual sight. Ten metres from the fence they slowed to a walk, but continued forward.

  Everyone was enthralled at the sight of the majestic animals up close. The Americans’ cameras went into near meltdown, and the children’s excitement was evident. Anna was ecstatic. ‘We are so lucky, I’ve never seen the cheetahs act like this before.’

  Eventually, the crowd had to go on. Mainly because the people behind wanted a closer look at the cheetahs. But, as they began moving, so did the cats—tranquilly matching the pace of the visitors. But the pace was painfully slow. The people in front of the Americans were slowing right down to wait for the cats, and those behind the children were squeezing forward or trying to move around them.

  ‘We’re getting well boxed in here, people,’ said Nigel. ‘Shall we step away from the fence and try and get ahead of this crowd?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Ken agreed. ‘Let others get a better view.’

  Anna nodded reluctantly, not wanting to, but understanding Ken’s viewpoint. Grace, with an uncharacteristic frown on her face, nodded as well. They manoeuvred to the left-hand fence and started walking past everyone trying to get a better view of the cats. As the crowds eased and they found more space, they sped up and chatted excitedly about the strange goings-on. They were interrupted after a minute or so by Ken.

  ‘Guys?’ He pointed at the paddock fence which had become visible again. ‘We’ve still got company.’

  The cheetahs were still with them. And behind them, the very strange sight of Americans hanging on to bags and large cameras, squealing children trying to get by them with mothers desperately trying to keep up, and a sprinkling of casual visitors, all trying to keep up with the cats.

  They had reached the end of the cheetah paddock. As they carried on down the path, the crowd remained at the fence where the Cheetahs had all sat down facing them.

  As they walked Grace was acutely aware of more strange animal behaviour in the pastures either side of them. This behaviour continued to prompt animated conversation between the other three. But Mandy suspected other goings on and tried to catch Grace’s attention.

  “Is it you?” The concentration on her face was clear to Grace.

  “Yes, it is. But what can I do?”

  Without meaning to, she had made a psychic connection with the cheetahs. There wasn’t any conversation or communication involved, more a kindred spirit connection. The cats could feel Grace’s intelligence and virtue and were just happy to be nearby. She had on occasion experienced this with dogs, though when one appeared glad to see you its reaction just seemed normal. Of course, her connection to Krankel was on an entirely different level.

  ‘Will it keep happening?’ Mandy asked, getting close enough to whisper. ‘What about the other animals?’

  ‘Yes. Probably to different degrees.’

  Grace realised that this would be the case for the whole tour and she had no idea how to handle it. She made a snap decision to try and deflect attention from herself.

  ‘Oh Anna, look how the animals follow you. They must be able to feel how much you care for them.’

  ‘It can’t be me Grace,’ Anna laughed. ‘I’ve been here enough times. They’ve never shown this level of interest.’

  ‘It’s Nigel’s aftershave,’ Ken teased, nudging him as he said it.

  ‘They’re attracted to my superior intellect,’ snapped Nigel, never happy to be the butt of Ken’s jokes.

  They moved on to a small playground and an open enclosure with ring-tailed lemurs in, or out, depending on their mood. It was one of the places where interaction with the animals was encouraged. The fence was tiny—just a three foot high rustic wooden slip board fence, with only two cross members.

  ‘Oh look,’ squealed Anna. ‘Lemurs. Come on let’s get a look.’

  They went towards the lemurs, waiting patiently for those in front to move on. Mandy whispered to Grace, ‘Will you be okay with these?’

  Looking relieved, Grace nodded. ‘I’m not feeling much,’

  ‘We should make some excuse and leave the park, don’t you think?’ Mandy said. ‘Better safe than sorry.’

  Grace nodded.

  They were close to the Lemurs, standing near the fence, watching their antics on the other side. The primates from Madagascar played with each other or just strolled about, long ringed tails reaching for the sky and big eyes full of mischief. Now and then one would come to or through the fence and to the great amusement of the watching crowd. One came and sat on the fence next to Grace, who looked at her friends wearing a nervous smile, secretly hoping it would move on to someone else. In the blink of an eye, it reached for Grace’s brooch, snatching it off her before jumping off the fence.

  Grace was horrified. ‘My brooch!’

  If the Lemur went more than fifteen feet away from her and managed to operate it inadvertently, or just broke it, she would revert to her Vercetian shape—in front of everyone.

  Mandy knew the chances of Grace changing were significant and looked around, assessing the options open to them. Even on this warm day, they were still all carrying light raincoats. She put hers over Grace’s head and said, ‘You have something in your eye? Come with me quickly, and we’ll sort it.’ She bundled Grace around and led her to the centre of a nearby children’s playground, heading for a pagoda-like structure at the end of a rope walkway. There was a section just below the landing platform that was enclosed on three sides and mostly in shadow. Halfway there, she could feel Grace’s holographic enhancements disappearing under her coat. Mandy guided her into the enclosure and stood her up against the rear panelling. The other three were immediately behind, crowding into the confined space, the boys ducking down for lack of headroom.

  ‘What’s going on?’ exclaimed Anna. ‘What are you doing in here?’<
br />
  Grace was panicking. ‘Don’t look at me!’ she cried and put her hand up to stop anyone removing the coat. Unfortunately, she did that using a much more slender, and bluer, hand.

  Her friends were dumbstruck. All three were staring at the thin, and rather beautiful, alien hand.

  ‘Grace,’ said Mandy gently. ‘Your hand.’

  None of them needed to look under the coat to see Grace realising her error. The small movements of her head and the rather too late attempt at hiding her hand said it all. Grace paused, aware of the cat being out of the proverbial bag.

  She pulled both of her hands back into the coat and lifted it slightly, revealing part of her face. ‘Oops,’ was all she could think to say.

  ‘Okay you three, don’t freak out.’ Mandy was taking control. ‘Ken, Nigel. You need to go back out there and get Grace’s brooch back from that Lemur.’ They didn’t move. ‘Now!’ she half shouted. ‘And don’t come back without it.’

  They left, making their way back to the Lemur enclosure, leaving Mandy to try and smooth the situation over. ‘Grace. Don’t worry. These are your best friends, and friends will accept anything about you—even that you’re an alien princess,’

  ‘A princess!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘Oh Grace, why didn’t you tell us?’ She was enraptured. ‘We’re friends with a princess.’

  ‘I… am sorry.’ Grace looked straight at Anna, revealing most of her face. Without her brooch and its inbuilt translator, she was speaking in broken English, with an accent Anna couldn’t place.

  They could hear the sound of children’s feet tapping about above them as they arrived at the platform from the rope walkway and went squealing down the slide. Two girls of about seven years old ran from the bottom of the slide straight into the covered enclosure, coming face to face with Grace. They stopped and went quiet, then one of them asked, ‘Who are you?’

  Mandy replied, ‘This is Grace. She’s off to a fancy dress party.’ She leant toward the little girls and said excitedly, ‘She’s going as an alien princess.’

  The girls looked at Grace, then at each other, ‘Cool,’ they said in unison, and ran off to their next adventure.

  A few moments later the boys returned, Nigel proudly holding the brooch aloft and handing it to Grace.

  ‘I thought the park keeper was going to come after us.’ Ken’s beaming smile radiated around the small enclosure. ‘Catching Nigel inside the paddock, chasing lemurs.’

  Grace took off the coat and handed it back to Mandy. ‘Now you can see…’

  She clipped on the brooch and activated it. The solid holographic image appeared, her hair fluttering a bit. ‘And now I’m Grace,’ she smiled.

  ‘I’ve wondered why you always wore that brooch,’ Anna mused.

  ‘Does this mean we get an invite to your home now, Grace?’ Ken asked.

  ‘I always knew you were toying with me, whenever we discussed some far fetched subject,’ Nigel gloated.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ said Mandy. ‘I’m sure you have a billion and one questions for Princess Tauriar, here. You’ve got all afternoon to ask.’

  So they did.

  Part III

  Earth's End Game

  Chapter 29

  Rob and Sonia

  Earth - The Republic of Ireland - 2011

  * * *

  It had taken Kean and Sonia two months working from their TW Sphere to sort out passports, identification documents, bank accounts. Basically, everything they would need to pass as British Citizens. Luckily for Kean, Sonia appeared to have a particular knack for this sort of thing, giving the impression she had done it all before.

  They moved into a three bedroom semi-detached house in a respectable suburb of Cork. The rented property was fully furnished, so all they had to do was move in and stock up the larder.

  Since the strange disappearance of Tray, the two of them had come to an arrangement that unless they had official business to attend to, they would keep entirely clear of each other. Kean felt a loathing emanate from Sonia towards him, it intensified after they landed in Ireland. As the weeks passed, he began to feel the same towards her.

  It hadn’t taken them long to locate Jon O’Malley and Amanda Walker. Jon had already become a professional cyclist, so it was easy for Kean to slot into his chosen role. He just needed a way to impress the local pro team. Amanda was working for MI6, and though it was only at an administrative level, they both agreed that trying to befriend her wasn’t a safe option. Keeping a handle on Jon O’Malley would have to be enough.

  Although the use of advanced technology was forbidden outside of the sphere, Kean had brought Gobbler with him. Sonia had a box of unidentified items, so what the heck, he thought. He wanted easy food—and a companion.

  He’d fitted Gobbler into a ghetto blaster. One speaker became the ingredients entry point, and the other, the delivery point for finished food. Headphones meant he could chat with the little food processor when they were out and about, and listen to music. He had even fitted a small wide angled camera lens, to compliment the little droids sensors. The ghetto blaster had disappeared after the mid nineteen eighties, but Kean’s research suggested its use was still acceptable as retro in some oddball situations—the mountain bike scene happened to be one of them.

  Gobbler hovered to Kean, with the speaker open and a beef burger extended out on a small tray.

  ‘Your beef burger is ready, Admiral Roly-poly.’

  ‘Thank you Gobble blaster,’ Kean said, not looking up.

  ‘Would sir require any further sustenance? Fish and Chips? A breakfast fry up? A Sunday roast? All three? Or, will your fourth beef burger of the day suffice?’

  The ghetto blaster hovered drunkenly towards the waste bin, then opening one of its speakers and imitating a retching sound.

  ‘Oh Gobbler, you are so funny. I may have to modify your programming.’

  ‘Touch me, and I’ll electrocute you,’ it said defiantly, and hovered up and landed out of reach on top of the wardrobe.

  Sonia entered Kean’s room—without knocking as usual. ‘I’ve entered you in two local races. You will need to win, and by some margin, to get noticed.’

  ‘I will,’ he replied without making eye contact.

  The Fortune Factory Downhill Team, based out of Cork in Ireland, boasted four potential world ranking downhill riders.

  At the team manager Jack Donnelley’s cycle store in Cork, the first full meeting of the team before the start of the 2012 season had just finished. Excited apprehension was the order of the day, as would be expected at the start of a new and exciting venture. New boy on the team, Rob Smith, had invited Jon O’Malley back to his for a beer and to look at their spare room advertised for a miserly monthly rent. Jon jumped at the chance to have a look, having struggled to find something he could afford since leaving university.

  He liked Rob and the room, well the price at least, so confirmed the deal over a couple of beers, while excitedly discussing the up and coming training camp in Scotland. Rob’s Aunt Sonia seemed a strange one. In her mid-thirties and pretty, with lovely long blond hair, but she appeared to have a complete lack of communication skills. Rob said she would be coming with him on tour because she couldn’t be trusted with her own welfare, but assured Jon she would be no trouble and that he would hardly know she was there.

  Jon thought, what the heck, and co-habitation with Rob and his strange Aunt began.

  Chapter 30

  The Killing Games

  Zerot/Gemini 7 - 1992

  * * *

  The oppressive heat in the underground cavern would be intolerable for most species, but after nearly ten thousand years of enforced subterranean life, the Zerot had long ago adapted to it. The Gathering Hall was gloomy, the effect of the constant heat haze, but closer inspection revealed an assortment of treasured art stolen from many of the worlds they had conquered. The room was buzzing with discussions and arguments going on simultaneously around three huge circular tables set in a perfect t
riangle. In the centre, a giant holographic world rotated slowly. The Zerot were about to embark on a planetary violation expedition, and the final details of the Cadre’s performance were being measured and evaluated—the Killing Games were in full flow.

  The first table was probably the most orderly of the three, with twenty clerics analysing the performance of Cadre 176’s twenty years on Gemini 7, in the Pulcherrim system.

  They had one hour to complete this task, with the chief cleric coordinating the previously unseen data and the remaining scholars analysing against the preset rules of the game. The results when calculated displayed around the holograph, for the other players in the Game to absorb and digest. The Zerot at the other two tables were getting animated as more and more information appeared.

  During their twenty years, Cadre 176—led by the infamous Hammaraffi—had infiltrated the dominant society and had increased the size of its army, tenfold. They declared war on all of its immediate neighbours. Hammaraffi’s tried and trusted mixture of subjugation, genocide and ruthless hit squads, had sent evil tentacles squirming around Gemini 7, destabilising the whole of the world’s society. He needed a strong performance here. A particularly tenacious species had foiled his last attempt at a planetary violation sixty years earlier, and he and his team had made a rather hurried departure from the planet. The Zerot elders would not tolerate a second failure.

  The total population of the planet appeared—2.2 billion. A roar from the second table, representing the Cammaggama Dynasty—sponsors of Hammaraffi—accompanied the announcement of 34 million dead to date. Well above the required minimum. The planet lit up, landmasses now coloured red, shades of pink, or white. Red indicated countries under the direct control of the Cadre, pink partially subjugated—the shade showing the degree of occupation—and white represented unconquered counties. The ferocity and tenacity rating of the inhabitants of the planet were announced next as below average, bringing mocking jeers from the other two Dynasties, undermining the “dead so far” figure. Scuffles between Dynasty military personnel broke out at the second table, but were quickly subdued by their superiors who wanted to plan attack strategies on the different parts of the planet. The more daring and demanding the approach, the higher the tariff would be when the betting commenced.