by Renee Duke
Chief Rupin told him that was not his only mistake. “Even if you had succeeded in making off with the prince and princess and obtaining the anticipated ransom, how did you expect to enjoy your ill-gotten gains? There is nowhere, on or off Cholar, you could have gone where my Royal Guardsmen could not find you.”
Dalgo looked smug. “Oh, I think I could have. The ship I arrived on, and planned to get away on, has a cloaking device. There is no way you could have tracked me. Your technology is not up to it.” He shot another glare at Mr. Skoko. “I should have remembered Ralgon’s is. But until he broke in on me, I was not aware Skoko was here.”
Under further questioning, Dalgo said the Quorlians’ names were Zud Eth Thulos and Mux Eth Thulos. “Brothers even more intellectually challenged than most Quorlians. I’m surprised you haven’t caught them yet. Perhaps your men are not as good at hunting people down as you think. Having their names should help. They both have criminal records and their pictures are sure to be on file somewhere.”
Dalgo’s look suddenly became calculating. “That information should be worth something. Skoko over there directed the ransom money back into the royal treasury, but I’d be willing to settle for having a smaller sum held in reserve for when I get out of prison. Where I imagine I will be going for a little while?”
Verim’s jaw clenched. “For a very long while.”
Dalgo laughed. “Really? I doubt it. According to interplanetary laws concerning non-citizens — laws most planets in this system abide by, be they AUP-members or independents — the most my sentence is permitted to be is the maximum I would receive on my home world for the same crime.”
“You came here as an immigrant and were granted full citizenship,” Verim reminded him.
“You’ll find I renounced it. And since it was actually my palace contact who drugged those women and breached your security you will not be able to charge me with that. As to the ransom demand, you got both the ransom money and the Vedetian children back, so even the maximum sentence should not exceed —”
“You also kidnapped Cholarian children we have not yet got back,” said Verim.
“But I did not personally take them, nor ask a ransom for them. In fact, any lawyer could argue I never really had them in my possession. So, I repeat, you cannot impose a longer sentence on me than a Ralgonian court would.”
“They can if the Ralgonian government gives its approval. Something I will personally see to,” said Mr. Skoko. “Does that penal colony on Prexath accept alien prisoners, Lord Verim? If it does, I believe Dalgo might benefit from a stay there.”
“He shall have the honour of being the first,” said Verim.
Mr. Skoko’s offer to intercede with the Ralgonian government shook Dalgo a little, but the prospect of being immured on Prexath didn’t seem to concern him nearly as much as it should have. He said he’d never heard of it.
“I will tell you all about it on the way to the holding facility,” Chief Rupin promised before turning to address Taz. “I will question him again there, Your Majesty. You and the others should go and get something to eat. You must keep up your strength. If anything of importance arises you will immediately be notified.”
Taz and the others demurred for a while, but then gave in. One by one they left the command centre until only Mr. Skoko — who said he had already eaten — remained.
Curious to know something, I went over to talk to him.
“Back in the receiving room, you said there were limits to what you’d do for money. So, how come you didn’t resign from Professor Vor-Zoag’s service when we started giving you so much trouble?”
He gave me the look I think he reserves specially for us. Something in between irritation and repugnance.
“I had already committed myself to safeguarding you and, despite having been woefully misled by naïve claims regarding the innocence and innocuousness of that distinguished gentleman’s daughter and her travelling companions, my word is my bond. Since then, all assignments involving adolescents have been subject to extremely thorough background checks. And a much higher fee than hitherto. Now, if you will excuse me, there are things I should be doing to help locate the missing royal heirs. A task for which I will not be asking payment. I found them quite cute and endearing.”
With that, he stomped off.
“We were cute and endearing too, when we were that age,” I called after him.
“Hah!” he threw back.
Chapter Eight
My exchange with Mr. Skoko brought me and my companions to the attention of Chief Rupin’s second-in-command, who promptly chased us out of the command centre. He said it was no place for children.
“I suggest you find something more agreeable to do and try not think about the events of the past few hours. Everything is going be all right. The little prince and princess will be back before we know it, safe and sound.”
“So just go off and play with your dollies and dinna worry your heads aboot this bit of bother we’re having,” Kirsty growled once we were out of earshot. “I canna understand why Cholarians keep treating us like bairns. Especially me. I know I’ve not grown a lot lately, but I’m still a strapping Scottish lass and tower over the lot of them.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re going to accord you adult status anytime soon,” I replied.
Jip agreed. “I have not grown for some time either, and it is possible I have already attained my genetically predetermined adult height. This does not, however, make me an adult in the eyes of my Vorlan elders. This is particularly true of my parents, who definitely do not regard me as anything other than their little girl.” She paused. “From general observation of parents and grown offspring, I am fairly certain they never will. I dare say they will come to interact with me as a person of maturity once I am of an age to be considered such. But only outwardly. In their hearts, I am sure nothing will change.”
I knew what she meant. My height seemed to have levelled off as well, and my siblings were catching me up. I’d recently noticed that Arlyne was almost as tall as I was and Simon’s head now came a bit above my shoulder instead of just below it. But even if — or, as regards Simon, when — they got to be taller than me, I was pretty sure I was still going to think of them as my little brother and sister.
“Are any of you hungry?” I asked the group at large. “We should be keeping our strength up too. Just in case there’s some way we can help.”
“I don’t think there is,” said Arlyne. “Other than to stay out of the grown-ups’ way. Now they know exactly who they’re looking for, the Royal Guardsmen should be able to find those Quorlians in no time.”
But they didn’t. Even with more people looking, there was no trace of the Eth Thulos brothers. Or Challa and Kadi.
The next day, Taz shocked the entire planet by making a public announcement. He pretty much had to. Like all the royal family, his children were high profile. Every Cholarian knew what they looked like and delighted in seeing them out and about with their parents or nanny. Many had even spoken to them, as it would never have occurred to the Royal Guardsmen in attendance on them to suspect their admirers of wanting to hurt any child, let alone the worldwide adored little prince and princess. Eager to catch a glimpse of them at any time, the populace at large could now be counted on to watch for them every waking moment.
Our guardians still wanted to remain at the palace, so the other girls and I were pointed in the direction of some air bikes kept there for recreational purposes and told to pick up fresh clothes and other essentials from our respective residences.
Zooming through the streets of Cholaris, I noticed how despondent everyone we passed looked. Taz and Vostia were suffering great anguish over the fate of their children, and their people were suffering with them.
Most of them, anyway. But there were some Cholarians willing to use the royal children’s disappearance for their own political ends. Not the ones Crown Councilwoman Ophala had been talking about. Those were just minor malcontents wh
o wanted Mardis as Supreme Ruler instead of Taz. But another, more radical, group was against having anyone as Supreme Ruler. After another day went by with no word from any of the cities, towns, or even remote outposts on Cholar’s four continents, the anti-monarchists’ spokesman, a mathematics professor named Balgor Orl-Kolish — or, to use his preference, Citizen Balgor — bought time on a live current events programme and treated viewers to this little speech.
“The monarchy’s time has passed. The House of Beom has ruled Cholar for centuries using, as its symbol of authority, the sacred Ring of Beom. This ring supposedly communes with a Supreme Ruler — and why should any among us be considered supreme? — so that he or she can take from it the strength and wisdom required to lead the Cholarian people. This might once have been so, though I, for one, put little stock in ‘mystical powers’. But the disappearance of the royal children should perhaps be taken as a sign the ring no longer has mystical powers, or, if it does, is unwilling to share them with the current occupant of the throne. For is it not supposed to warn him of danger to himself and his family?
“When I expressed this view to someone on the Supreme Ruler’s Personal Advisory Council — and again, why should any among us be considered supreme? — I was told the ring had not ‘worked’ because the perpetrators of the crime were not Cholarians and the ring came from a time when people of other worlds were unknown. Well, my friends, that is no longer so. We have welcomed many different races to our world. If the ring’s perceptive ways cannot be applied to all who now dwell here, what good is it? And what good are those who claim to gain insights from it? Exactly what purpose does the House of Beom, or any other royal House, serve in this day and age? It is high time we —”
That’s as far as he got. The host of the programme was talking to him in a public park and a lot of people took exception to what he was saying and shouted him down. The broadcast ended abruptly, the last scene shown being that of both the host and Citizen Balgor beating a hasty retreat.
But enough had been said for some people — not many, but some — to start wondering about the ring’s powers. It also set off the other group, the one Crown Councilwoman Ophala had been talking about. The next day a delegation turned up at the palace demanding Taz’s abdication. Its spokesman said recent events proved Taziol IV was not the ring’s choice for Supreme Ruler, something they had maintained throughout the succession dispute. They still wanted a Supreme Ruler, but hankered after one a little more progressive than Taz. One more open to exchanging ideas and resources with outsiders. (Translation—AUP.)
But the people clamouring for a different monarch didn’t get very far either. The next legitimate heir to the throne after the missing Challa and Kadi was Mardis. During the succession dispute, the hereditary successor would, under Cholarian law, have had no choice but to agree to replace his cousin if the Succession Tribunal had not upheld the chosen successor’s claim to the throne. But it did, and an abdication, if one were to occur, put Mardis under no such obligation. In response to the reformists’ demand (which they made sure went public), the palace issued a statement that Prince Mardis would not, under current circumstances, accept the throne, and no other royal claimant would either.
This came as welcome news to the anti-monarchists since they wanted to be rid of them all anyway. And the following morning even the abdication-in-favour-of-someone-else advocates were warming to that idea, and lawyers from both groups were said to be seeking ways to challenge and replace Cholar’s current system of government.
“This is preposterous,” I heard Tolith say to his wife. “The reformists have, overnight, thrown in with the anti-monarchists and gone from wanting a different monarch to wanting no monarch at all. How can that be? Who’s behind this?”
The answer to that was not far off.
Vedetian children are high strung, and even though the abduction was now common knowledge, the physician thought Keza’s kids would be better off staying at the palace than subjected to the type of attention they were likely to receive from concerned, well-meaning, people. Even five days in, they were said to not be handling their trauma well.
“Maybe we should go talk to them,” I said to the others. “They might open up to us better than grown-ups.”
We found them in the nursery garden with Keza, who was trying to interest them in chasing a motorized ball about. But all they seemed to want to do was sit on the grass clinging to her.
Arlyne suggested that we should start playing with the ball. After watching us for a while, they joined in the game, and by the time we stopped for a rest had become relaxed enough to talk to us about the abduction. They even told us that the Eth Thulos brothers had met up with someone after they carried them off the palace grounds, something they had not, up to that time, revealed.
“It was a Ralgonian man we saw on the immigrant ship,” said Jagri. “They had a big argument.”
We knew that, of course, but I asked them why they hadn’t told Verim about him as well as the Quorlians.
Sabra’s face crumpled. “He…he said, if we did, he’d let those nasty things eat us.”
“Aye, well, the prospect of that would have had me holding my tongue too, when I was your age,” Kirsty said comfortingly. “But they canna harm you now.”
“No,” said Keza. “You are back with me and perfectly safe.” She turned to us. “It is not easy to make them feel safe, however. Thank you for coming. It is good of you to be concerned about them.”
We weren’t the only ones. A little while later, Mardis came into the garden carrying a medium sized box.
“Ah, Simon. And the girls as well. Excellent. Since you’re here, I expect you’d all like to take a peek at what I’ve brought. Jagri and his sisters would probably be afraid of Yoli and Pesca, but they’re sure to like this little fellow. He belongs to a friend, who was happy to loan him to me for their amusement.”
As soon as he placed the box on the ground, Simon, Jagri, and the two little girls knelt around it, with we older ones leaning over them.
“What is it?” I inquired, peering down at the small, roly-poly, ginger-furred creature with short horns and a wrinkly face that was gazing back at me from a nest of leaves.
“A mizon. A creature that has been domestic pet on Cholar for many years, though they exist in the wild as well. On your world it would look something like a bush baby, but with even larger ears and a puffy, rabbit-like tail. Right now, he is being a dobu. He can also look like a churig, a watha, and numerous furry animals of similar size. A defence mechanism wild mizons use to protect themselves when they spot a predator. They can either choose to look like one of the predator’s own predators or something the predator doesn’t usually eat. Quite an effective ruse, most of the time. Except against taiskels. Taiskels eat anything. Even, at times, each other, if they don’t belong to the same pack.”
“Is this mizon for thinking we’re predators?” Kirsty asked.
“No. He’s just showing off. Mizons are playful little things. And this one loves an audience.”
Basking in our attention, the mizon proved it by changing into what Simon immediately identified as a watha.
“Very good,” said Mardis. “You’re becoming quite the expert on Cholarian wildlife.”
Simon looked pleased, prompting me to wonder if Mardis’s approval was starting to mean as much to him as Taz’s.
“Must be a wee bit disconcerting for other creatures to not know if they’re looking at a member of their own species or one of these wee beasties,” said Kirsty. “Imagine if they could turn into people. If one of them took a fancy to what you looked like, you could be having a gander oot the window and see yourself going by.”
“Can they turn into people?” Sabra asked, interested.
Mardis shook his head.
“Or big, horrid, things like the ones who took us away?”
“They were people too, Sabra, not things. Not all intelligent species are humanoid.”
“According to Chief
Rupin, Quorlians barely qualify as intelligent,” said Simon.
“Well, they are on the low end of the scale, but even amongst them some are brighter than others.”
“If mizons could change into Quorlians, I don’t think they would,” said Sabra. “I certainly wouldn’t want to look like a Quorlian if I could change into something else. Are there any people who can?”
“Borelians,” Mardis said with a smile. “But not in the same way as mizons. Mizons rearrange their molecules to take on a new guise. Borelians can’t do that. They merely have extremely flexible bodies and a talent for mimicry. And some possess such great skill in the use of cosmetics, they are masters of disguise.”
Kirsty gave a huff. “Good thing Drazok didn’t know any Borelians. He could have had them impersonate different people and used them to get up to all manner of things.”
Mardis’s smile vanished and he suddenly looked troubled.
“He did know one. A business associate. He got a message from him one time when he was here droning on about how it was my duty to replace Taz. The message didn’t please him, as it said this fellow had sustained an injury and would not be able to come to Cholar to do something Drazok wanted him to do.” The prince’s frown deepened. “By now he would be long recovered. What if he has met with Drazok since? Met with him recently.”
Having hitherto only seen him being a gentle, dedicated, naturalist or the succession dispute’s unenthusiastic contender for the throne, I hadn’t been aware he could move so fast. Or sound so authoritative. Thrusting a bag of mizon food at Kirsty, he ran to the door leading back into the nursery.
