Alexander shook his head, regretting now, more than ever, that he couldn’t have had Bill as one of his Marines, thinking how far up in the ranks he would have risen. “He would have made Admiral, I know that much,” he thought to himself and could sense Vimes agreeing with his assessment.
“Why not?” asked Christine, reaching out and taking her father’s hand.
Bill covered it with his other hand, pressing down gently and looking right into his daughter’s eyes.
“For the same reason Alex here would never dream of remaining on earth with you and abandoning his Empire.” He squeezed his daughter's hand more firmly. “Duty, Ena. I have a duty to my men and to my country. Remember, I took the King’s shilling long before this bloody war started and it wouldn’t be right for me to leave just before we go into battle. There’s a push on, to break through the Gustav line in a week or so, and I have to be with my men.” Bill could see the tears of acceptance in his daughter’s eyes. “You know that, don’t you, love?”
Christine nodded, for the moment unable to talk without crying and not wanting to upset her father.
Bill looked across to Alexander. “I don’t suppose you could fly over Berlin and drop one or two of those fancy bombs of yours on Herr Shicklegruber ?” he asked, chancing his luck.
Alexander shook his head. “Sorry, Bill, something like taking out both the German High Command and that of the Japs at the same time would inevitably raise too many questions and run the risk of exposing what we do here on Earth. I can’t take the risk, tempting as it might be. Goodness knows, I have no love for the Germans.”
“It was worth a try,” Bill replied, looking back to Christine and bringing her close. He kissed her forehead affectionately and wiped away the tears with his thumbs. “It won't be long now, love, two years, tops. The Germans can’t keep the Americans and us at bay forever, not with the Russians holding them at Stalingrad and sucking men and materials away from the western front. Trust me on this.”
“But what if you get hurt or…?” Christine went quiet, not wanting to finish the sentence, so Bill finished it for her.
“Killed, you mean. Yes, it’s a possibility, but soldering is what I do best, Ena, so you’ll just have to have faith in me and the Good Lord.” He kissed her again, feeling himself close to tears at his daughter's obvious distress. “I’m sorry, love.”
“I have something that might help,” the voice of Vimes unexpectedly came from both suits, addressing all three of them, “I anticipated this scenario and took the liberty of packing an impact suit in the storage compartment of your suit, Alexander.”
As Alexander instructed his suit to open the storage compartment so he could withdraw the item, Vimes continued speaking, “As you have no doubt figured out, Bill, it is Vimes speaking. It is pleasing to finally address you after all this time, but I’m afraid I can’t shake your hand at the moment.”
Bill laughed out loud, shaking his head. “The pleasure is all mine, Vimes. Who would have thought it?”
Alexander unfurled the flexible suit, made of thin impact cloth, and quickly explained to Bill how it worked and what it would do. When he’d finished, Bill took it from him and examined it, looking a little sceptical.
“This will stop most rounds and small bits of shrapnel?” he asked, turning it over in his hands and trying to stretch the fabric between his fingers. “You sure of this? Not that I doubt you, but it does seem a bit, well, flimsy to say the least.”
“It’s the type I was wearing back in France that stopped those bullets, Bill,” said Alexander, “What more proof do you need? Just keep it safe and give it back to us when this war is over, and you are back home in England. He put out his hand for Bill to shake. “Deal?”
Bill grasped the hand firmly and shook it. “Deal. I take it you and Ena will be leaving now, or can you stay a while longer?”
“Sorry, Bill, but we have to get back home. My home, not yours. By the way, as a small token, Vimes is making arrangements for the house in Dagenham to be bought and transferred into your name. The avatar will look after it until you get back and make sure nobody suspects anything. Money will also be paid regularly into your Lloyds bank account in Dagenham, so you are set up.”
“And I’ll come and visit whenever I can,” interjected Christine, not wanting her father to think she was abandoning him, “so if you change your mind when this is all over you can come away with us then.”
The three of them fell silent, each thinking their own thoughts and not wanting to be the one that instigated the final farewell. Outside, the blizzard was starting to fade and through a tear in one of the heavy drapes covering the window, the first glimmer of morning light could be seen trying to peek through.
Vimes reminded Alexander about the front door, and he removed several gold sovereigns from his suit, handing them to Bill.
“This should more than cover the cost of repairing the front door and leave enough for you to stand everyone a beer or two in the Officers Mess. Good luck, Bill, and may your God go with you.”
Bill took the coins and shook the hand, then tried to pull Alexander towards him for a hug, only to be somewhat surprised when nothing happened.
“Goodness, that suit must be heavier than it looks,” he exclaimed, moving towards Alexander instead and briefly hugging him, then doing the same for his daughter although this time it was for much longer. “Be safe, girl, don’t do anything foolish now, will you,” he whispered, “Your mum would have been very proud of you.”
“I won’t dad, I promise. Make sure you wear that impact cloth all the time.”
Bill looked at them both for a few moments then nodded, gesturing half-heartedly towards the door.
“Best you be off before it gets too light. And don’t forget to close the front door behind you if you can. It’s too bloody cold in this house by far.”
Alexander checked to ensure the yacht would be at their original landing point by the time they arrived, taking Christine’s reluctant arm and guiding her gently towards the door, checking the sensors for any sign of witnesses outside. They both turned and waved a final goodbye, leaving Bill alone with his thoughts.
SCENE 19, FELIDAE JUMP STATION, BORDER OF HUMAN SPACE.
Christine’s favourite yacht appeared at the Jump Point in a flash of blue light and moved slowly towards the Station, sending out codes identifying it as belonging to the Imperial Family and on an urgent diplomatic mission. Two large Felidae battleships of the new design immediately left their moorings and began moving at high acceleration towards the far smaller yacht, transmitting recognition and warnings to follow instructions.
All around, transports and freighters popped in and out of existence, a steady stream of variously sized ships testifying to the volume of business passing through the star system. Almost all were of Felidae design, although Vimes pointed out a few he didn’t recognise, in itself something unusual.
Sitting in her command chair, Karen breathed out a sigh of relief and loosened her grip on the armrests. She transmitted an urgent request for a message to be sent to Empress Freya, naming herself as Friend and asking for the Quantum Signature of her current location to be made available so she could Jump to meet her. Karen wasn’t sure if Freya would agree, nor did she know how long she might have to wait because of the potential light-speed delay between the receiving Jump Station and Freya’s location. In the days since Empress Christine’s murder, the Felidae Empress might be anywhere in her Empire, continuing with her Progress.
A terse acknowledgement quickly arrived along with detailed instructions where she was to wait for the battleships to escort her. Leaving the manoeuvring and fine details to Vimes and the yacht’s AI, Karen disengaged from the chair and headed to the nearby toilet to relieve her sudden uncomfortably full bladder. Sitting down, she marvelled at the absurdity of her position, as only a few hours previously she had found herself helping Adam decide the potential fate of the Empire. Immediately after speaking with him, Karen had begun to have doubts but put
them aside. Shortly afterwards, Vimes had confirmed the yacht was ready for her to visit Felidae space again and she had quietly slipped away, Jumping directly from the Imperial family’s private hanger bay to Felidae space.
“Not that anyone was paying attention to me anyway,” she thought to herself, thinking back to the mad rush to prepare everything. Even with Vimes’s help, there was so much for her to do, not least, deciding how to explain everything to Freya without creating a diplomatic incident. She stood up and washed her hands, checking through Vimes whether anything further had come in from the Felidae.
“Not yet. We probably won't hear anything for at least an hour. I have my doubts as to whether Freya would willingly provide you with Jump coordinates, but then she did intimate feeling somewhat in your debt. I suppose this will be the test of how much she trusts you.”
By the time a reply was received, the yacht had been moored close to the Jump Station for ninety minutes and was now surrounded by six front-line battleships, something Karen knew to take as a compliment and not a threat. She had spent the time listening to music and trying to come up with an acceptable form of words, only to discard at least half a dozen versions. In the end, Karen decided she would simply have to judge Freya’s mood when they were face to face and be guided accordingly.
Karen opened the message, and the space in front of her was filled with the face of Freya, ears pointing forward towards her.
“Welcome, Karen. I am extremely curious to discover why you have returned so soon. Therefore I have enclosed the requested Signature and given instructions for you to be allowed to join me here. Fortunately, your message arrived shortly after I Jumped to this system and had not yet left the Jump Station.”
Freya gave a brief nod, and the message ended. Vimes spoke in Karen’s mind, “Karen, permission to Jump has been received from the Felidae, and their warships are moving away. I’ve locked in the coordinates, and we are clear to Jump whenever you are ready. I suggest we do not keep Freya waiting too long.”
“Agreed. Move into position, and I’ll instigate the Jump once I’ve returned to the command chair and merged.”
Karen hurried towards the chair, both grateful the wait was over yet apprehensive about what was coming next. Feeling the ship merge into her senses, Karen double checked the systems and instigated the Jump countdown, feeling the power build in the Jump engine…
Discontinuity…
To her right, Freya’s Progression flagship loomed large in the sensors, like before, surrounded by numerous battleships and support craft. To the left lay the bulk of the Felidae Jump Station, Karen’s mass sensors sounding loud in her mind as they registered the massive structure.
Within moments, docking instructions came in from the Progression ship, directing Karen to a much larger hanger than before, big enough to accommodate the bulk of her yacht. Karen directed it to follow the instructions and felt the gentle acceleration build, pressing her slowly into the seat for a few seconds before stopping. Although too small to be yet seen by the naked eye, sensors detected an honour flight of ships, identified as fighters, approaching on an intercept course which would rendezvous with her path at the halfway point.
All too soon, the enormous bulk of Freya’s Progression ship loomed large, filling the viewscreen completely. Not wishing to risk an accident and spark off a diplomatic incident, Karen allowed Vimes to guide the yacht into the designated hanger, noticing how this one was more austere than the one used previously. She noted no honour guard was visible through the transparent metal window overlooking the docking cradle towards which Vimes was slowly guiding them.
“Vimes, Christine said the more guards, the greater the respect. Is this a bad sign or am I missing something?”
“Unlikely, Karen. In this instance, I believe it is because you have been named Friend by the Empress and have done the Felidae a great service, although even I struggle to understand this most mercurial of races.” Vimes paused for a second before continuing, “But I have no doubt about your safety here. Freya is probably burning up with curiosity. Now, don’t forget your lenses this time.”
To emphasise the point, a servitor came to her side and handed over a small white case. Thanking it, Karen opened the case. Inside were two fingertip sized depressions. Gently touching one of them with her index finger, Karen then touched the corner of her right eye. Instantly, she could feel the almost invisible material find its way onto her cornea and expand to form a thin lens just a few molecules thick, which bonded painlessly to her eye’s surface. She did the same with the other eye, then blinked several times before zooming in and out a few times to check they were working.
These lenses were far more advanced than the basic ones found in survival kits, and would be absorbed into the eye after a predetermined time, generally twenty-four hours, unlike the others which were made from a semi-rigid mouldable material and designed to last for months of use.
Karen broke the merging and left the command chair, walking to the exit to wait for a docking tube to form. Using the yacht’s sensors, Vimes overlaid a scene from outside onto her vision so she could see the tube snake its way across the hanger. A green light in her mind confirmed the sealing was complete, so she opened the airlock and walked through into the tube, quickly walking towards the reception area, where she could see First Mihos waiting, along with another Felidae who she thought might be his aide. Immediately, this brought back memories of Duke Gallagher and the ever present Collinson. She shuddered involuntarily, not wanting to dwell on him or the memories that flooded back.
Approaching Mihos, Karen could feel her mind start to accelerate, something it always did during emergencies back at the Hospital in Raigmore, helping her focus and keep track of everything around her. Welcoming the feeling like an old friend, Karen extended her hand for Mihos to smell, then returned the greeting, finally shaking hands in the human way.
Mihos spoke first.
“Greetings, Friend Karen. Forgive my bluntness, but is this a formal visit or a personal one, for your message was unclear?” She noted how his ears swivelled to point at her, but his tail remained still.
“Both, First Mihos. I have something with me which will be of great interest and benefit to the Felidae Empire, It is my desire that the gift will cement the respect and trust our two great empires enjoy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and Karen picked up a slight twitch from his tail.
“You’ve got his interest, Karen, well said. He’s dying to know what you have brought, but protocol demands his Empress hears about it first,” Vimes whispered in her mind.
First Mihos bowed, then gestured for Karen to follow him, indicating they should walk towards a doorway, which opened to reveal padded seats. Karen realised it was the Felidae version of a transit tube and settled herself, Mihos sitting opposite her. His aide remained outside, leaving the two of them alone. Karen felt the tube begin accelerating softly and looked around the interior. The walls seemed covered in a material which would double as padding, and several loops hung from the ceiling, presumably for those to hold who might prefer to stand. She turned towards Mihos, noting his eyes hadn’t left her and were studying her intently. At one point she thought she caught his eyes flick to her belly, and smiled inside, wondering how much Freya actually shared with him.
Watching him carefully for any sign, Karen spoke first, testing him.
“Yes, Mihos, I am pregnant and Adam, the Crown Prince, is the father.”
“Not even so much as a flicker,” she thought, “So we know Freya shares quite a lot with him, don’t we, Vimes?”
“Congratulations, Friend Karen, that is good news. Here, we have arrived. Please follow me.” Mihos rose and exited the tube, pausing for a few moments to ensure Karen was following. Dozens of heavily armoured warriors lined the approach way to the audience chamber, not one that Karen remembered having used before. Although Mihos paid them no attention, Karen used her lenses to examine one or two of the soldiers. Their armour was a n
eutral sand colour, non-reflective and perfectly in keeping with their surroundings.
“Their armour contains cameo-cells that mimic the surroundings, enabling them to blend in. In combat situations they can be damnably hard to see, even at close quarters,” Vimes whispered in her mind, providing a running commentary on anything she noticed, “Notice the small bumps at the finger-tips? They contain retractable claws.”
“How do they compare to ours?” she asked, curious.
“Ours take more punishment but are more cumbersome in comparison. Horses for courses, as you say on earth, In close combat, I would prefer our battle armour, but for stealth or jungle fighting, theirs have a distinct advantage, being lighter and more flexible.”
On reaching the large entranceway, Mihos stopped and gestured Karen to move on ahead of him, the doors opening silently as she approached. Inside, the room, around ten yards square, was sparsely furnished, apart from dozens of rugs and cushions strewn over the floor. Overhead, the light had been dimmed to one more comfortable to human eyes, and Karen noticed the temperature had been lowered to what was acceptable to humans.
Freya emerged from amongst the cushions, standing tall on her hind legs, completely devoid of any clothing or ornamentation. Ears swivelling towards Karen, Freya moved forward and approached in greeting, extending her palm. Mihos, at a hidden signal from Freya, had made himself comfortable nearby, close enough to hear everything, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy.
“Welcome, Karen. This is an unexpected, yet welcome pleasure. You have lived up to my expectations in the great game and have again provided me a most welcome diversion from the business of State.” Freya led her back to where she had been sitting and gestured for Karen to make herself comfortable, then sat down herself, turning around twice to make a small depression in the nest of cushions from where she had risen. Finally satisfied, Freya turned to Karen and enquired if she required any refreshment.
Imperium: Coda: Book Three in the Imperium Trilogy Page 28
