by Ren Garcia
She thought about it. “Frankly, I am a bit put off, but our experiment shall continue. How could you ever take me seriously should I do such a thing over a bland little person like Lady Alitrix of Zama.”
Stenstrom was shocked. “Zama—did I mention she was of the House of Zama? I don’t recall doing so.”
“You didn’t. I make it a point to know your doings. I might warn you that girls from Onaris might diminish your House, should you choose to pursue her further.”
“She claims she is of the Hoban Zamas, not the Onaris Zamas.”
“She’s lying.”
Stenstrom tried to disengage, but Lilly held him fast. “I’ll pose a question that you once asked me, Lilly. Are you enjoying this time apart? Are you seeing anyone?” he asked.
“I’m not really looking.”
“Are you wasting your five years? These are the years you asked for, remember?”
“Yes, I remember, but I’m not going out of my way to find somebody else, either. I never meant for these five years to serve as a replacement for you, Bel—I simply wanted to see if, in the natural course of events, something else came along. So far, nothing has.”
She tried to change the subject. “How are your studies coming along?”
“Fine. I’m not really interested in studying accounting. I’m sure you know that.”
“I listened to you this evening, lamenting your friends, lamenting the Fleet. If you wish to soar the stars in a Fleet ship so badly, Bel, then why don’t you?”
“You know full well why. That door has been shut to me.”
Lilly jumped out of bed and went to the desk. Her slender naked body glistened in the pearly moonlight coming in through the window. “Where are you going?” he asked.
She turned on the holo-terminal and rejoined him in bed as a carousel of lights began jumping out of it and swirling around the room. “You know, Bel, if you have any faults, I’d say one of them is too heavy a reliance on conventional thinking.”
“Conventional thinking?”
“In some ways, you’re the fastest thinker I’ve ever seen—when properly tasked and motivated. In other instances regarding your mother, like this one, you are guilty of very uninspired thought. There are ways around everything, if you want something badly enough.”
She paused a moment, her face full of longing. “Look at me; there is something that I want very badly and am currently taking steps to see that I get it.”
“Oh, and what is that?”
She reached out with her foot and manipulated the holographic glyph controls. “Let’s focus on you for the moment, Bel, and not worry about me, shall we? Let’s see …” She worked the floating glyph with her foot, moving it about. Soon a banner popped up.
“What do you have there?” Stenstrom leaned over to look at it as it danced around the room.
It read:
Inter-Stellar Brotherhood of Barrs, Attorneys, Actuaries, Notaries and Accountants.
“What’s this?”
“The IBBAANA.”
“I think my mother’s mentioned something about this organization. I truly had no interest.”
“You should listen to your mother in this case. The IBBAANA is your ticket to the stars,” she said happily. “And, more than that, it’s your ticket to glory.”
Stenstrom sat up from the bed and looked at the banner. It was a dry, uninteresting posting. He saw nothing of glory or honor in the drab, business-like construction of the holo.
Barrs . . . .
Actuaries . . . .
Notaries . . . .
Attorneys . . . Good Creation.
“All right, Lilly, out with it. What’s on your mind?”
“If you peruse the rather dry subject matter of this posting, you’ll see that all sorts of occupations are covered by this society … including this one … Let’s see …” She highlighted a notice with her foot, and it jumped to the forefront. Stenstrom squinted to read it.
“Fleet Paymaster?”
“Yes, indeed,” she said with a hint of triumph. “Sounds impressive, doesn’t it: Fleet Paymaster. I’ve been doing some research. Every Fleet vessel manning fifty or more souls is required, by rule, to carry a Paymaster. A Paymaster is basically a third party who arbitrates the dispersement of funds to the officers and crew. The Paymaster also ensures that all parties entitled to pays from the vessel in question are properly and timely compensated.”
“It sounds like a do-nothing to me.”
“Well, that’s what it is, Bel. But, it’s a shipboard do-nothing. You’d be on a ship, but you wouldn’t be in the Fleet officially; you’d be a shipboard civilian. See, you’ve got to learn to be sneaky.”
Stenstrom thought about it and the notion began to take flight in his head. “My father’s never mentioned anything about Fleet Paymasters before.”
“It’s not a prestigious thing, and your father, being ship’s captain, probably never really dealt with the shipboard Paymaster much—it’s more of a clerical thing, probably something the boatswain had to deal with most often.”
“Lilly, you really sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“I always make it my business to know what I’m talking about.”
Stenstrom began reading the notice. His promise to his mother stated he would never join the Fleet as either an officer or a crewman, and she’d updated the Promise over the years. She’d added: the Stellar Marines, the Merchant Marines, Space Traders and Astro-Tenders—anything she had heard of requiring frequent space travel she knifed out of him. And, there was one thing she had knifed into him: accountant.
But, all of his promises failed to include a shipboard civilian accountant—Mother hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps Lilly was onto something. He continued to read, saw the requirements, and his heart sunk.
“No, no, Lilly—look here. You didn’t read carefully enough. To be a Fleet Paymaster, you have to be an attorney.”
“Ah, Bel, it appears you didn’t read carefully enough. True, most Fleet Paymasters are attorneys, but, if you read here, (she pointed at a line of text with her foot) an accountant of ten years or more tenure with experience in public financial arbitration may also qualify as a Fleet Paymaster. I mean, to do this job, all you need is a pulse, an impartial mind, and a bit of bookkeeping skills.”
Stenstrom snorted. “Lilly, I’m not even graduated yet—I have zero tenure, and I’ve never arbitrated a public financial deal.”
Lilly kissed him on the cheek. “Again, Bel—think creatively. Your lack of experience and tenure is nothing that a few Belmont sesterces placed snuggly in the right pockets won’t fix. Come on, Bel—are you so innocent you won’t up and bribe a fellow or two? A good, well-thought out bribe can be a noble thing.”
Stenstrom sat up and thought about it. Bribe someone? In all his wranglings with his mother in their game of brinkmanship, he had never even considered trying something underhanded or unethical. In his mind, the only way to play the game was above board.
“I … can’t bribe somebody, Lilly—that’s unethical.”
Lilly pulled him back down and lay on top of him. “What a virtuous young man you are, Bel. Consider this though—great men are often self-made. There are no great, self-made men lacking an unsavory component somewhere in their make-up. If you can make your way through life and say that the worst thing you did as a young man was bribe a fellow or two simply so you might have the opportunity to start your career and live your dream, then that’s saying something. There are worse things you could do, Bel.”
Stenstrom, feeling Lilly’s weight on top of him, thought it over. “You’d not think ill of me?”
“No, Bel. Would you think ill of me, should I tell you some of things I’ve done?”
“What things?”
“Just things, Bel—so, will you do it?” She held onto him tightly.
Stenstrom fought with the thought for a bit more. “A bribe? What reputable gentleman would succumb to something as pedestrian and
poorly thought out as a bribe?”
“Then I would avoid dealing with a reputable gentleman and confine your activities to the disreputable ones. And where are they? I would say in a place where anything goes if you have the coin to make things happen: Calvert.”
Stenstrom lay there under the heat of Lilly’s body and watched the posting swirl around the room.
A Fleet Paymaster …
19 Flight from Bern
The following spring, Stenstrom graduated. At the Bones Club, he was hailed with raised glasses and fond, overflowing toasts. Several graduating members standing with him were, as usual, decked out in new Fleet uniforms.
This time, Stenstrom felt none of the sadness and envy he previously had when seeing the new recruits.
This time he had a plan.
He returned to his apartment to pack. When he got there, a message awaited him on his Com. He began getting his baggage ready and played the message, his back turned to it as he worked, glancing occasionally.
It was his mother and sisters Lyra and Virginia. Virginia was holding a large cake frosted in white icing. “Bel!” Mother said warmly. “We are so proud of you—a newly graduated alumnus of the University of Bern.”
“Congratulations, Bel!” Lyra said, chiming in.
“I made you a cake, Bel,” Virginia said.
Mother continued. “We are sending a coach for you tomorrow, to pick you up in grand style. You may expect the coach promptly at twelve bells. We have been laboring to restore your old room here at home and cannot wait for you to return. I’m also very excited to say that a Lord Fulmar of Bass shall be stopping by in a few days. Lord Bass is the proprietor of several successful firms here in Tyrol and he is eager to make your acquaintance. If you speak and present yourself well, Lord Bass might offer you a job.”
He hastily filled his baggage. “Sorry, Mother, I’ve got other ideas for employment.”
The Com continued. Virginia was sampling a little of the cake she had made, unable to resist. Mother spoke again. “It will be so nice to have you home again, where you belong. Don’t forget, tomorrow at twelve bells. Do not be late—I would hate to have to come looking for you.” The Com closed.
Stenstrom looked at the Com in horror.
… have you home again, where you belong.
Tomorrow, she’s coming for him tomorrow. No doubt, the moment she gets him home, she’ll ply him for information and update the Promise as needed.
It was imperative that he not be anywhere near Bern tomorrow.
He had to fly. He threw his clothes into the baggage without pausing to fold or arrange them.
There was a knock at his door, and he nearly cried out in fright.
Who was it? It had to be his mother—or a Black Maiden.
Forgetting his baggage, he went to the window and started to climb out. He got his leg out into open air when the door swung open.
“Bel?” It was Lady Alitrix. She was peeking her head in through the door. “Hi, Bel—what are you doing out there?”
Stenstrom sighed in relief and pulled himself back into the apartment. “Hey, sorry, I thought you might be somebody else.”
“May I come in?”
Stenstrom returned to his baggage. “Sure, sure, come in.”
She opened the door and entered. She was holding a large straw basket. “I was hoping to share a small private celebration with you—to commemorate your graduation.” She held out the basket. “I brought some nice food and cheeses from the Club, and some aged wine. I was …”
She saw his open baggage and clothes tossed in. “Are you… are you leaving so soon?”
“My mother is coming for me tomorrow, at twelve bells.”
Alitrix approached him. She knew of his smothering mother—he spoke of her often. “Your mother? Are you worried?”
“I’m terrified as a matter of fact. If she manages to get me home, she’ll wring out of me what I’m planning to do, then she’ll put me to the knife and that shall be the end of it.”
“Oh. What can I do to help?”
“If you really want to help me, help me pack. I have to flee the region as soon as possible. I’m not going home. I’m going where I’ve always wanted to go.”
He grabbed another handful of clothes from the closet. “I really should have been more prepared. I should have…”
Alitrix put her hand on his wrist and pulled herself into him. “Stop, for a moment. Take a break with me, please.”
He resisted. He tried to pull away and continue packing.
“Please …” she said.
They fell into each other’s arms, Alitrix dropping her basket.
* * * * *
Later that night, Stenstrom and Alitrix lay on his bed. He could see the squared-off landscape of open baggage beyond the foot of the bed and the partially empty closet. Alitrix smelled of perfume and fine soaps.
He thought she was asleep, but she wasn’t. “Do you know where you’re headed?” she asked.
“Southeast, to Calvert.”
“Why Calvert?”
“There are some gentlemen I plan to call on in Calvert. I’m planning on plying my new trade in earnest.”
“Oh?”
She was quiet for a minute or two, then: “You know, my father owns several banks in Inari. I’ve mentioned you to him—I’m certain he would be glad to offer you a position, and, who knows, with good work, you might quickly rise through the ranks.”
Stenstrom looked at her in the dark: her thin, doll-like face, her hopeful eyes. “I appreciate that, I really do, but I’ve got other plans. I need to go to Calvert.”
“Am I to never see you again?”
“Never’s a long time. I’m certain our paths shall . . .”
“Bel—I love you.”
Stenstrom didn’t know what to say.
“I know when we began this that it was simply two friends sharing the pleasure of each other’s company, and that I promised I wouldn’t expect anything beyond mere sex. I allowed the silly little girl in me too much sway, and I fell in love.”
“Alitrix, you know I value you as one of my best friends. You helped me come out of my shell—taught me how to behave and interact as a friend. And the experiences we’ve shared over the past year and a half I’ll always treasure. What can I say that will not break your heart? I love Lilly. You know that.”
Tears fell down her face. “Yes, your Lilly, always Lilly. I didn’t want to say anything earlier—and I know you’ll think I’m just trying to make up a story to keep you from her, but I cannot remain silent any longer. Please, hear me out.”
“All right.”
“There is something odd about Lilly—I don’t know what, but I just know. Haven’t you thought it peculiar that she seems so in-tune with your thoughts and emotions? Always she’s there to save the day just when you need her most. I would see you looking at the Club-members in their Fleet uniforms, and I knew you were feeling sad. Often, I wanted to come to your side, to try and comfort you, to make you smile. And always, there was Lilly, from out of nowhere walking up the steps, and I would sit there and wish that, for once, I could be the one to offer you comfort. I’m just a woman. Lilly is not a woman—she is something else. It’s almost as if she’s steering you to some predetermined destination. I don’t know; I’m talking non-sense, but that’s how I feel. I don’t know what she is, but she’s not a woman.”
Stenstrom patiently listened and let her get it all out.
“I am a woman, and you have earned my love. That’s all I have to give. That’s all that I am. I’m nothing but a woman while Lilly is something else. How was I to ever compete with that?”
They lay there in silence, Alitrix sniffing slightly. “I’m, sorry,” she said, “it’s just the bitter little girl in me talking. I didn’t mean to trouble you with this. Will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” Stenstrom said.
“Will you hold me tonight? I know you have to pack and are eager to leave before your moth
er’s procession arrives, but I can help you in the morning. I shall meet the procession and stall for you, to give you added time to be clear. If I’m questioned, I’ll tell them you’re off to Barrow to seek adventure there.”
He pulled her into him.
“Also, I would like you to write to me when you can—just so I know you’re safe. And, one final thing. I will give you a year. Your Lilly gave you five years. I shall offer you one. One year, and if in that time you discover that I was correct about Lilly, then you may come to me and take my hand.”
And they held each other all night long.
* * * * *
They had a busy morning. They rose with the sun and finished packing. Stenstrom had a lot of baggage, and Alitrix promised to have the Club take care of his stuff until he called for it.
Alitrix showed remarkable toughness that morning. She must have been hurting inside, but didn’t show it; she’d come a long way since he first met her. She was a big help.
Carrying a small overnight bag, he went out into the street with Alitrix and nearly ran into the procession of float cars Mother had promised to send—several hours early it seemed.
Pulling Alitrix aside, he gave her one last kiss and then made his way down the street toward the station. He caught a glimpse of Alitrix approaching the procession, his mother getting out and questioning her.
He had to act fast. He got to the station and booked a ticket for the first coach out—it didn’t matter where. It was heading to Falz. Fine. He bought a ticket and got in.
After getting to Falz, he then booked freight passage to the smelly city of Bezzel in the heart of Calvert. Calvert was certainly the last place his mother would expect him to go, and it was also the best place for him to begin his career as a Paymaster.
20 Calvert
Calvert—the veritable tossed-salad of Kana. There, among the know-nothings and ne’er-to-dos dotting the wharves and seedy streets, he set about his business.
Here was Calvert, a sliver of land against the sea east of the GreatArmenelosForest, a collection of crowded cities and bad architecture, where showering and basic hygiene was, apparently, optional in some quarters. Still, walking the tight streets crowded with riff-raff and smelling the salt in the air, Stenstrom felt a sense of jubilation, of release. Not like the well-tended and stuffy city of Bern, this was real, full of Barbary-style buildings that have been lived in by real people.
