by J. L. Doty
Tarlo picked up the list and looked at it intently. Dirkas turned a silent look on Charlie much like Somal’s stare. Still looking at the list Tarlo broke the silence. “This would . . . explain what we haven’t been able to account for.”
“But it leaves something unexplained,” Somal said. “Namely: how do you know this?”
“Because they’re my ships.”
Somal smiled and nodded. Tarlo looked up from the sheet. “Here on the station, rumor has it that those hunter-killers have something to do with one of the Ten.”
Charlie shrugged. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“So why did you call us here?” Somal asked. “This meeting, why?”
“Change of tactics,” Charlie said. “It’s time for us to combine our forces, go on the offensive. I think we can put together a coalition. By my estimate, if we all contribute, we can put together an armada of more than a hundred and fifty warships, enough to rout Goutain and end this conflict.”
Charlie hadn’t expected them to jump and cheer, but they met his statement with silent stares. Dirkas asked, “A coalition. When did this idea come up?”
Charlie shrugged. “Slowly, and only as I began to realize the possibilities.”
“And who would provide these ships?”
“You, me, the independent states, Kinatha, some of the ten dukes and duchesses.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Chevard,” Dirkas said. “But I find it a far stretch of the imagination to believe you could pull together such a coalition.”
There it was—exactly what Ethallan and Arthur had told him. Seated at the end of the table, Ethallan met his eyes and lifted an eyebrow.
“You may have guessed,” Charlie said, “that I represent certain interests that must remain hidden for the time being.” All three of them continued to stare at him. “And I’m guessing that some of you, in fact, have realized Edwin Chevard is a fictitious name and a fictitious person. If I disclose whom I represent, will you give me your words it’ll not leave this room?”
Somal and Dirkas nodded, while Tarlo said, “You have mine.”
Through his implants, Charlie asked Arthur to join them. The door opened a moment later, then Arthur stepped into the room and remained standing. Charlie switched off the visual distortion field. Dirkas and Somal both started, though it was clear they didn’t recognize him. Tarlo didn’t react at all.
Ethallan stood. “May I present His Grace, Charles, Duke de Lunis?”
Dirkas grinned. “You’re the fucking de Maris bastard.”
Charlie stood and turned to Arthur. “And may I present my brother, Arthur, first legitimate son of Cesare de Maris and rightful heir to the de Maris ducal seat?”
Tarlo gave a loud whoop, came around the table, and shook Charlie’s hand vigorously, then shook Arthur’s. “Now I believe you about the hunter-killers. Can you really put together such a coalition?”
Charlie nodded, but didn’t speak the thought that came to mind.
I sure hope so.
Del had to admit to herself that it was pure curiosity. Mr. Neverlose hadn’t said anything in plain and simple terms, but from little bits here and there she’d gotten the distinct impression Charlie had had some sort of relationship with one of the trampsie prostitutes. Charlie and Arthur kept Del bottled up rather securely, and didn’t allow her out into the station proper. Otherwise she’d go incognito to the trampsie bar where the girls worked. But since that wasn’t possible, she’d asked Mr. Neverlose to bring the girls to her.
The two prostitutes were quite exotic and, Del had to admit, quite sexy looking. The one introduced to her as Janice Likesiteasy had dark, curly brown hair that hung to her shoulders, big brown eyes, dark red lips, and a dark complexion. Trina Godowna had a beautifully oval face framed in a wild profusion of frizzy red hair, green eyes, and black lipstick. Both of them wore simple dresses, nothing provocative, and yet they exuded sex appeal from every pore. Their little sister, Becky Neverenough, clearly barely into her teens, was just plain cute in blond pigtails and knee-high stockings.
“Your Worshipfulness,” Janice said when they were introduced. Clearly uncomfortable, all three tried awkwardly to curtsy.
“Del,” she said. “Please call me Del. And forget the curtsies.”
Mr. Neverlose stood uncomfortably at the far end of the room. Del marched toward him and said, “Time to go, Mr. Neverlose. Only we girls allowed here.” She ushered him out of the room.
She turned back to the girls. “Can I offer you something to drink? Tea . . . coffee . . .” The three girls frowned so she tried, “Something stronger?”
Becky said, “Ya, I’ll take a shot.”
“A shot?”
“Ya,” Janice and Trina both agreed.
“A shot?”
“Ya,” Janice said. “Whiskey, or whatever you got.”
Del rang for a servant, ordered a bottle of whiskey and four glasses. It arrived along with a bottle of soda and some ice. The girls each poured themselves a small measure of whiskey and ignored the soda, so Del did the same. They raised their glasses and Janice said, “Here’s to ya.” They clinked glasses and the girls tossed the whiskey back in a single gulp, even their little sister, so Del followed suit. She wasn’t a fan of whiskey, though she’d tasted her share, but not that way. However, she managed to keep it down without spluttering as it burned its way to her stomach.
“Why’d you want to see us?” Janice asked as she poured another round.
“Well . . . you knew Charlie, on Tachaann, and I wanted to meet his friends.”
“Charlie?” Trina asked, frowning. “Oh, you mean Frankie. Ya, we know Frankie.”
“Ya,” Janice agreed. “We call him Frankie. He’s a good guy. Nice roll in the sack too.”
The girls all got a good laugh out of that, then they tossed back another shot of whiskey. Again, Del followed their lead. “Does he keep you busy that way?”
Janice shrugged. “Not lately. In fact, not for a while. I figured he was getting it somewhere else.” She winked at Del.
Del blushed. “We’re engaged to be married. Well, as soon as he proposes properly.”
“What do you mean, proposes properly?”
Del described the conversation in which she’d agreed to marry Charlie.
“That moron,” Janice said. The three girls crowded around her sympathetically. Janice poured more whiskey in her glass. Del tossed it back and was starting to feel the stuff.
“Just like a man,” Trina said. “They’re all idiots.”
The four of them shared thoughts on the idiocy of the opposite sex. The girls asked her for more details on the betrothal, and between shots of whiskey she explained the politics involved.
“Hey,” Trina said. “When he’s gonna propose right, you make him take you to Momma’s place.”
Del shook her head sadly. “He and his brother and their advisors won’t let me out of these apartments. They say it’s too dangerous. And I suppose they’re right.”
Janice said, “Don’t you worry about that. We’ll talk to Momma. Nobody says no to Momma. She’ll make him come through, and then you gonna get a good proposal.”
“But look at you,” she said to Janice. “My god you’re sexy. How do I compete with you?”
“What?” Janice exclaimed. “Compete with me? Oh honey, you don’t gotta compete with me. That man’s so in love with you he can’t see straight.”
“He’s in love with me?”
“Course he is. Can’t you see it? You must be showing him a thing or two between the sheets, eh?” She and Trina and Becky shared a look and a wink, then threw each other high-fives.
Del blushed, and Janice frowned at her. “You mean you ain’t done him yet?”
“Well . . . I . . . um . . . not after the way he proposed.”
“Oh swee
theart,” Janice said. “That’s terrible. I mean, the man’s an idiot, we all know that. But that man’s gotta go do duke shit. He gotta kill people and fight wars and all that duke stuff. And if he’s all tense because he’s walking around all day with a hard-on thinking about you all the time, well he’s probably gonna kill the wrong people and start the wrong wars. You gotta fuck his brains out.”
“Janice!” Becky snapped.
“What?” Janice asked.
“You don’t say fuck to a princess. It ain’t polite.”
“Well then what do I say when I wanna say fuck?”
“You say screw.” Becky looked to Del for confirmation. “Ain’t that right?”
Janice didn’t wait for Del’s answer. “Okay then, you gotta screw his brains out, honey. It’s your civic duty.”
Becky and Trina both agreed with considerable vehemence that it was Del’s civic duty to screw Charlie’s brains out. As they left, Del could tell she wasn’t the only one feeling the whiskey.
Out in the hall, just as she was closing the door, she heard Becky say, “You done great, Janice. I think Frankie’s finally gonna get laid.”
Charlie met with the Kinathins and, one by one, with representatives of all of the independent states. Other than Aagerbanne, the Finalsans were the only ones to enthusiastically endorse such a coalition, obviously because they were the only two states, as yet, under occupation by the Four Tyrants. For the rest, he had to cut deals and make promises. For the Kinathins he agreed to fight tirelessly for the end of slavery in the Realm. For all of them, he had to promise he too would provide warships to the coalition, warships in quantities he didn’t yet have.
His one big disappointment was Telka. She alone could provide thirty or forty warships to a coalition armada, and her support would be critical to bring in Rierma, Band, Chelko, Harrimo, and Sig. The five of them, while smaller houses, could together muster another thirty or so warships. But there had been no contact from Telka, no response that she would meet Edwin Chevard here, and her absence—and that of the others—cut the strength of his armada in half.
The night before he was to return to Starfall he had invited Del to dinner at Momma Toofat’s, where he’d arranged with Momma for a candlelit dinner in a private room. He hadn’t planned on taking her to Momma’s, but Del insisted, and when he tried to refuse, Momma came personally and threatened to hit him upside the head with a big rolling pin.
Delilah wore a bright red evening gown cut quite low in the front, even lower in the back, and fashioned from a lacy fabric that was ever so slightly translucent in the most enticing places. Charlie tried not to stare, but couldn’t help stealing glances whenever possible. And of course she caught him at it repeatedly, seemed fully aware of the effect she had on him.
Momma’s place on Andyne-Borregga was actually two distinct establishments with separate entrances, a spacer bar on one side and a nice, though certainly not elegant, restaurant on the other. Janice, Trina, and Becky were all giggles and veiled looks as he escorted Del through the main dining room. Del saw them, waved, ran over to them and they all shared hugs. It surprised Charlie to learn that Del knew the girls. The four of them spoke in hushed tones for several seconds, their whispering punctuated by surreptitious glances his way.
Momma broke it up, personally hustled Charlie and Del into a small, private dining room in which a table for two had been meticulously prepared. The table was round with a cushioned bench seat wrapped halfway around it, the two place settings arrayed so that Charlie and Del sat side by side. Charlie thought it best not to tell Del that these were the rooms where the girls took their johns for dinner and drinks. The tables and seating were designed so that if a spacer got amorous in the middle of a meal, the girl was close at hand with no table separating them.
Charlie had no objection to the arrangement.
“You not ordering tonight,” Momma said. “Momma Toofat got the dinner all planned out; you just eat.”
After Momma left, Del said, “This should be interesting.”
“She’s a good cook,” Charlie said. “I mean, spacers in the bar are happy with slop. But for family, friends, while it’s not elegant, it’s damn good.”
Momma brought in a bottle of wine, accompanied by Trina with the first course. Charlie and Del ate, and they chatted amiably, and he hadn’t the faintest idea how to do this marriage proposal thing. Especially since she knew it was coming. Did she expect him to get down on one knee? He’d do that, if that’s what she wanted. But that didn’t seem like the Del he knew. He wrestled with the idea throughout dinner.
At one point he realized that if he was going to propose to her, he shouldn’t be keeping secrets, so he told her about the defenses at Starfall, and the coalition he was trying to put together. Her eyes widened as he spoke, then she leaned back and said, “Aagerbanne, Istanna, Toellan, Kinatha—all of them.”
“It’s still not enough,” he said. “I need Telka and the other duchies. Without them, it’s just not enough.”
“I might be able to help with Telka,” she said. She then got rather excited about the whole mess, and through the rest of the dinner she speculated on how to approach the Duchess. Charlie realized she probably could convince Telka to join them.
They finished the last course, and Momma brought them a couple of snifters with a splash of brandy. He could tell Del really enjoyed the food, and hopefully the company as well.
“My god,” she said. “You’re terrified.”
She’d caught him off guard and all he could say was, “I’m not sure how to do this. I was taught how to be a soldier. No one, especially not me, ever thought I’d be sitting at dinner trying to figure out how to propose marriage to a princess.”
She shook her head sadly. “I think your problem is you can’t get past the princess thing. Why don’t you try thinking of me as just a girl?”
He realized he was never going to get the upper hand in this, decided to just spit it out. “I want you to marry me. Not because of the politics—well there’s that too. But I want you to marry me just because I . . . want . . . you . . . to.”
She smiled and leaned close to him. As she spoke he could feel her breath against his cheek. “That’s a pretty good start, Mr. Cass. Now just ask the big question.”
He grimaced. “Will you marry me?”
She frowned and considered the question carefully. “I believe it’s traditional to offer me a ring.”
“I thought about that,” he said. “I could have found someplace here to buy a ring. But it wouldn’t have meant anything, and I already have a ring for you. It’s back at Starfall, though, so I can’t give it to you right at this moment.”
She moved even closer so that her lips brushed lightly against his cheek as she spoke. “You bought a ring for me before we came here?”
“No,” he said, thinking he’d made a horrible mistake. “It was my mother’s. It’s the only thing I have of hers. Cesare gave it to her. They say he loved her. And when she . . . died, he made sure I got it to remember her by. I thought . . . you could wear that ring.”
She spoke slowly and carefully, her voice a faint whisper in his ear. “Oh Mr. Cass, you just scored big-time points in the romance department.”
Charlie couldn’t remember how they got there, but he was on his back on the long cushioned seat, she on top of him, kissing him like she’d never kissed him before, softly, tenderly. When they came up for air she said, “Yes, I just may have to do my civic duty.”
He wasn’t sure what that meant.
But he certainly enjoyed dessert.
Neither of them let it go any further than serious kissing and some heavy breathing, not in Momma Toofat’s. Del carefully straightened her somewhat disheveled gown and Charlie his rumpled tunic, and Del used a silk napkin to wipe her lipstick off his lips and cheek. On their way out of the restaurant Charlie saw
Becky, Trina, and Janice high-fiving each other. Momma fluttered around Charlie and Del like the mother of the bride. However, they didn’t make it out to Andyne-Borregga’s commercial concourse because the twins stepped in front of them before they got to the door. Add said, “There’s a man here wants to see you. He was smart enough to approach us, smart enough not to attempt to approach you directly. He says you know him, and would want to see him. He says his name is Thessa.”
Charlie recalled the name, but couldn’t place it. Ell gave him the clue he needed. “He’s wearing civilian clothes, little brother, but he’s navy all the way.”
Telka’s distinguished looking senior captain. “Yes,” Charlie said. “I do want to see him.” He turned to Del. “I’m sorry.” To Ell he said, “Please see that Her Highness gets back safely—”
He stopped in midsentence as Ell slowly shook her head. “He wants to see you both. And he mentioned Her Highness by name. He has a private room here, though he wouldn’t let us enter it. He said you’ll be safe.”
Charlie understood. It must be Telka herself in the private room, and she didn’t want to be observed by anyone as having personally come to Andyne-Borregga. “We can trust him,” Charlie said. Add and Ell both looked uncomfortable with that, but they had no alternative.
The twins led them to another private room, Add knocked on the door politely and Thessa answered it. He bowed to Del and Charlie. “Your Highness. Your Grace.”
He stepped aside and Charlie let Del precede him. The room they stepped into was meant for larger private parties, and both Rierma and Telka awaited them there. “Charles, my boy,” Rierma said. “And Delilah, you look absolutely stunning.”
Telka greeted Del. “Your Highness.” Del curtsied politely.
The plump little woman turned to Charlie. “Your Grace, or is it . . . Edwin Chevard?”
