He turned and left. Jane plucked me out of the chair and deposited me lightly on the bed. I was asleep before she was out of the room.
Twenty Seven
I dreamed I was King Arthur, seated at the round table, surrounded by my knights, most of whom were female’s in armour instead of silk gowns. We ate meat off the bone, drank wine from ornate goblets, and caroused all night. As dawn lit up the sky, everything vanished in purple smoke.
I jerked awake. Jane was standing over me.
“Dinner time Jon,” she said. “Do you want the chair or the scooter?”
“Scooter,” I said.
She brought it in, I pulled myself off the bed, and went into the bathroom. I felt the need for a shower, and wished there was a spa and the time to soak. The shower had to suffice. I came out in Hunter Dress.
A pulse came in from Jane. It was a new Dress uniform definition, with my new medals on it. I went back into the bathroom to look in a mirror.
“How did you know the order to place the medals?” I asked her.
“I asked Patton and Bigglesworth. Patton was loathe to admit it, but the Victoria Cross is the older established award, so takes precedence. The Victoria Cross was created in 1856, while the Medal of Honour was created in 1861. The others are also ordered in order of creation date, and merit.”
I had fourteen medals now, although twenty if you included the multiple awards. They were arrayed in four lines of four ribbons each, with the Victoria Cross and Medal of Honour on a line above them.
I felt seriously overdressed.
Jane led me to a room I hadn’t seen before, Jeeves following behind. It appeared to be some sort of sitting room, where I found the other flag officers enjoying pre-dinner drinks with the Queen. The only one missing was Susan Bentley.
“How do you feel?” the Queen asked me, as I seated myself.
“Better, thank you Majesty.”
“We’re all here now ma’am,” said Bigglesworth.
I noticed the difference in pronunciation. The last word sounded like ‘mam’, where I’d have said ‘marm’. I made a mental note in case I needed to use the word myself.
“Admiral Bentley sends her apologies, but we had a report of pirate activity in the Birmingham system a few hours ago, and she’s taken her fleet to investigate.”
The Queen nodded to him.
“The reason I asked you all here,” she said, “is to tell me how the military sees the future of this end of the galactic arm. My governments tell me one thing, I’d like to hear both the military side of things, and what the other sectors are thinking. This is purely off the record. My father taught me never to blindly accept what I’m told, especially when it sounds like what I want to hear.”
She held up a hand as several mouths opened to speak.
“No, not now, after dinner. I mention it now so you may think about what it is I should be hearing.”
She turned to me.
“I see you chose to put our highest medal first on your uniform.” Her smile invited anyone to challenge her statement.
“Actually,” said Patton, “the order is correct. While of equal value, the Victoria Cross is the older award, and therefore should be placed first.”
“Are you all aware it’s never happened before?” asked Harriman.
There was an expression of surprise around the room, indicating most of them didn’t.
“I did some research for my own interest,” he went on. “The Victoria Cross has been awarded to an American before, as has the Medal of Honour been awarded to a Britain. But Jon here is the first person to be awarded both.”
“Yes,” agreed Bigglesworth. “In fact the press have only just realized this themselves, and have asked me to arrange a press conference so they can take pictures of Jon with both medals. I told them he wouldn’t be agreeing to that. I agreed to ask him if he will allow an interview with a single reporter, who will agree to share the interview with all media channels. Jon?”
I sighed.
“I told Amy Allen when she came on board my ship, there would be no interviews with me, ever. But I guess I’ll have to make an exception in this case. You can tell them I’ll do a very short interview with her in the morning, and she can take a single image for use by all.”
“Is your reluctance because you still have the head bruise?” asked Hallington.
It was still a yellow colour, and as my other bruises went, the least of them now.
“No. I simply don’t feel comfortable being news fodder.”
They all laughed.
“Like it or not,” said Harriman, “You’ve been feeding the newscasts for two months now. The newsies aren’t going to leave you alone until you stop doing newsworthy things.”
I looked upwards.
“Make it so!” I said to those watching from above.
The laughter intensified. I shook my head, and laughed with them.
A functionary came in at that point and announced dinner. At the same time, Jeeves came in and quietly gave me my next pain shot.
We followed the Queen through to a private Dining Room, where she sat immediately. I was last to stand at my place, and we all sat together. A functionary pushed me under the table while another placed the necessary pouffe. I sent the scooter to an unused corner of the room.
Dinner was the finest I’d ever had, and amongst good company. While it was oddly formal because of the presence of the Queen, I was glad to be there. While not back to eating a full meal yet, I ate more than I had been.
We moved back into the sitting room. Talk turned to the future of the sectors as the Queen had requested, while coffee was being served. She asked probing questions and received direct answers. We outlined our concerns about prophesy, and the inadequate state of all the militaries at this end of the arm.
“Are you talking alien invasion?” she asked at one point. “Or another nut job uprising?”
All eyes turned to me.
“We don’t know,” I replied. “I seriously doubt the latter would be worthy of prophesy, and as we all know, so far, we’ve never encountered any evidence of aliens existing.”
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t though,” said Jedburgh. “In spite of the lack of evidence, we know only about a portion of the Galaxy. Despite all of our technological achievements, we haven’t been able to discern enough about the other galactic arms, or the central core of the galaxy, to determine anything conclusive. But to assume there’s no other intelligent life in the galaxy, would seem to be like sticking your head in the sand and wishing away the man about to kick your butt.” He paused as he noticed we were all looking at him intently, as funny as the joke was. “My daughter is almost rabid about this stuff,” he finished apologetically. Everyone smiled or chuckled.
“All we really know is,” I said, “this arm of the galaxy has only us. At least so far. We don’t even know if we’ve discovered all the jump points there are along the arm, nor have we been able to penetrate the radiation system which blocked our advancement into the core systems. For all we know, there are jump points between the arms, in systems which we cannot reach yet. Maybe we haven’t met aliens yet simply because they don’t yet know we’re here, or haven’t yet found a way to reach us.”
Patton stirred.
“One of our scenarios, which the Joint Chiefs keep up to date, is the possibility of alien invasion. It was first proposed five hundred years ago, and about every fifty years, some Commander is tasked with dusting it off and updating it. I personally think these prophesies are more likely to be about some cosmic event than an alien invasion. But all the same, my job isn’t about pandering to my own beliefs, it’s the defense of the sector, and I think it’s high time we all dug out every threatening scenario we have in the archives, and update our response protocols.”
There was a mutter of assent all round. Discussion continued.
The Queen took it all in, and in the end, all she could promise was to take our concerns seriously, and to see what cou
ld be done at the government level. The Monarchy was more active in government than it had been in the middle past, but there were limits.
As the gathering broke up, the Queen turned to me.
“I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow Admiral.” It wasn’t a request.
We all bowed as she left, although mine was little more than a deep nod. There were handshakes all round, and promises to keep in touch.
By eleven, I was back on the roof, to take a shuttle back to BigMother.
I found Miriam waiting for me on the bed, naked.
As it was almost due again, Jeeves gave me another shot, and left us to discover more ways of enjoying each other’s company, without my screaming in pain.
Twenty Eight
I woke at four for another pain shot, and went straight back to sleep. Miriam was lying next to me, looking at me, when I woke again. She kissed me.
“Last time for a long time Jon,” she said with a sad look on her face. “We head home this morning.”
I reached for her, and we spent another hour alternating frantic moments with tender ones. She helped me into the shower.
By eight, after a pain shot, we were down in the Dining Room, where I found Amy waiting for me to be ready for her interview. The whole team was present, so I held her off while everyone ate, and had a chance to congratulate me individually on my awards of the previous day.
“When are we moving on boss?” asked BA.
“No fixed time in mind,” I replied. “I have to be at the Palace again for lunch, so call it a free day, and unless something comes up, we’ll head for home tomorrow morning.”
“Suits us,” said Annabelle. “We’ve been invited to the SAS barracks for lunch.”
“Enjoy,” I said with a smile.
I didn’t eat.
Miriam ate quickly, and we had a private goodbye moment in my living room, before she left for the Flight Deck to launch her Excalibur.
I went back into the Dining Room, and waited until everyone was leaving before nodding to Amy. We went up to my Ready Room. I laid out some ground rules, and we did a short interview. After, I posed for some seated images, which showed me in Hunter Dress, with medal ribbons prominent. I immediately changed back to ‘slinky red’, which didn’t have the ribbons, and felt more comfortable.
Angel interrupted us finishing up, and reminded me she’d had no quality time with me in the last day, so I spent the rest of the morning following her around and patting her wherever she demanded it. Fortunately this only involved getting down to floor level twice. Part way through, I alternately tickled her and watched the Guam, Starman, and Stiletto, depart towards the Washington jump point.
When Angel tired of the attention, I explained I needed to go again for part of the afternoon, and I’d see her when I returned, whenever it was.
The Royal Gig arrived on the Flight Deck at eleven fifteen, was taken down to the Launch Deck, where I boarded it with Jane and Jeeves.
By quarter to twelve we were being shown into the same sitting room as the previous day. Before the Queen arrived, Jeeves gave me another shot, and went to stand with Jane in an unused corner.
Precisely at twelve, the Queen entered, waved me not to get up, and took a seat opposite me. She beamed a grin at me.
“Finally,” she said, “I have you all to myself.”
I had no idea what to say to that, so I said nothing, and allowed my face to look surprised. She laughed.
“I don’t bite you know,” she went on. “Well, actually I do, but let’s not go there.”
She grinned at her own little joke, and I felt obligated to do likewise, even though I had no idea what she talking about.
“This is purely social, so we can dispense with the formalities. You’re Jon. I’m Liz.”
She saw my eyes opening wide, and continued to laugh.
“Elizabeth the fifth, if you want to be completely accurate, but in private, I’m just Liz.”
“Yes Majesty,” I said.
“Jon, stop it. We’re the same age. I’m Queen, and you’re the Hero. You own your own sector now, so might as well be a King. I don’t see any point in us being formal in private.”
“Since you put it that way…”
“I do,” she interrupted me, and laughed again.
A ping came in from Bigglesworth. I held up my hand to her, and pointed to my head.
“Are you with the Queen?” he asked.
“Yes,” I pinged back.
“Something’s wrong. The SAS barracks isn’t answering pings, and there are troop movements I know nothing about. One report says there are ship movements around one of the outer planets. But I can’t get any hard information.”
“We may have a problem,” I said to Queen Liz. “Marshall Bigglesworth is telling me now. Hold on while I find out more.” She nodded.
“What do you want from me?” I pinged him back.
“Protect the Queen. Stay with her until I give you the okay. If the worst happens, you are authorized to take any action to ensure her safety.”
“Understood.”
“Are you armed?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You are authorized for lethal force if need be.”
“Also understood.”
“If you need to get her to safety, do so. The Palace isn’t a very secure location, so if you need to, take her to your Carrier.”
“Will do.”
I turned to the Queen.
“Marshal Bigglesworth is concerned there’s something happening he’s not being told about. He fears the worst I think. Are you wearing your belt?”
“Yes, he was most insistent about that.”
I sent a request for control access to her belt.
“Please okay the request for access to your belt, so I can make some changes, and check your settings.”
She paused.
“Do you trust me?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said without any hesitation.
She authorized my access. I checked to see if her suit was on hair-trigger, and it was. I pulsed her over ‘slinky red’ and activated it. The suit formed over her clothes.
I turned to Jane.
“Scooter.”
She brought it over, and I pulled myself up. I immediately activated the scooter belt to bring my guns up. Both gatling stunners went to my upper arms, and the Long Gun to my right thigh.
“Team coms,” I said to Jane.
“Confirmed. Active.”
“Team coms are active,” I said. “General Smith, sitrep.”
“Thank heavens Admiral,” she responded. “We’re holed up in the SAS barracks. Troops have us surrounded. We’re secure for now, but only have side-arms, and no outside communications.”
“Combat suits on the way. I fear we might have some sort of coup in progress. Standby for instructions.”
“Understood.”
“Wing Commander.”
There was no answer. I tried each of the pilots, including Slice and Eric, but none of them replied.
“Jane, let’s assume the worst. Sitrep with BigMother?”
“Troops approaching the dock.”
“Have the security droids enter the ship, seal both airlocks, and undock.”
“Confirmed.”
“Launch the Pythons and dock them at a side airlock to receive combat suits and droids. Move combat suits for the team there, with half of your special suits, and one hundred combat droids. Outfit for stunning, but have them take heavy weapons as well. If the gloves come off, I want General Smith to have all the options. Drop them on General Smith’s position. If coms fail, take what action you feel is appropriate to meet up with the team and the SAS forces. General Smith has the command.”
“Confirmed.”
“Send my combat suit to Gunbus, and launch her. Put her in position for a fast pickup from the roof if we need it.”
“Confirmed.”
I paused and took a breath.
“Now I understand,” said Queen
Liz. “Before I only saw the boy in you. Now I see the man, and especially the Admiral.”
I ignored what she’d said.
“Move over next to me Majesty. Jane, place yourself to cover her if anyone comes through that door.” I indicated the main entrance.
They both moved as I asked.
“Problem Jon,” said Jane. “I can’t undock BigMother. The station won’t release the docking clamps. They’re in the station airlock, and firing into our outer airlock. They must intend to take the ship.”
I sighed.
“Fine. If they want to play rough, we’ll play rough. What do you have at the airlock?”
“Six of my combat suits, and fifty combat droids. The other fifty are still on their way from the other airlocks. The remaining combat suits are in the bay being converted to an armoury.”
“Return the fifty to the airlocks. If they can’t get in the front door, they’ll try airlocks or the Flight Deck next. Secure all ways of entering the ship. Use all the combat suits we have, not already allocated.”
“Confirmed.”
“Secure Angel. I want her in her carry cage, next to an air supply. Have air backpacks taken to her location as a backup, just in case.”
“Confirmed.”
“Okay, let’s deal with problem one. Have your combat suits take out the people in the airlock. Then move your force into the station, and remove any opposition. Leave half the force to guard the airlock, and secure the station operations areas. Release the docking clamps, and back the ship away from the station when you can.”
“Confirmed. Airlock opening. Combat in progress.”
I stopped for a moment to think. I put combat sensors in primary mode, searching for nearby weapons.
None of this made any sense unless the Queen was taken or killed.
There was no movement nearby. Actually, in itself, this was a bad sign. It meant the Palace staff had abandoned their posts. Including the security forces. Unless the security forces had been lured away, like…
I immediately sent Susan Bentley a priority email urging her to return. I told her I suspected she was on a wild goose chase designed to keep her away while a coup took place.
Hunter Legacy 5 Hail the Hero Page 17
