Annales Imperii - I. Ostiia

by Ted Mayes

  She was still thinking about it when she entered Jordan's and saw Jon sitting at a table near the counter, reading a paper. She hurried behind the counter, gave her Dad a hug and grabbed a large cup of coffee to keep her going through her shift at the Foreign Department. By the time she was done, Jon was up, ready to walk her to her job. He even carried her 'tool' bag for her, because she found she was appreciating more and more the chances she had to be a 'civilian.' She started off talking about her day, but somewhat hesitantly. Then she decided there was no point in dancing around the sticky point, so she started telling him about the discussion in study hall.

  With a small sense of relief, she realized that Jon didn't seem to be bothered by the subject at all. In fact, all he said was, “I knew Ostia was different, but I didn't think it was so different that people would be unable to understand plain English. They really couldn't understand that there wasn't even an opportunity for 'romance' during basic! Strange.”

  “I know, but I thought, since the topic came up today, that we should take the time to talk about that subject ourselves.”

  They had reached the doors to the Foreign Department and Jon stopped, turning towards her and holding out to her the paper he'd been reading in one and the 'tool' bag in the other. “We'll talk about sex whenever you want, but I really think you might want to read Amanda's latest article first.” He gestured with the paper in his hand. “Meet you here at 2000?” She nodded, but her attention was now focused on the new article.

  Hurrying inside she'd quickly slung on her lesser pistol, the stun gun, made sure her dagger was strapped in place and put on her dress jacket. Although she'd been doing it for weeks, she noticed an increase in curiosity about what she was doing, and clearly more of the phone operators were casting glances in her direction. It only made her more curious about Amanda's article, but first she checked with all the operators to make sure there were no problems. Then she dived into the article.

  What kind of person gives allegiance to the 'incognito emperor' mentioned in the article last week? As one example, one of newest recruits. Young woman I thought much older when first met because of her self-assurance. Rigors of basic. Passing tests with flying colors. (Beth snorted with derision at that description – more like just barely passing.) Running a four-mile obstacle course with the speed of a gazelle and the grace of a ballerina. (What hogwash – she and Maria had always lagged behind Jon, James and Kevin and the guys had hauled or thrown them over most of the obstacles.) Special assignment put her on same flight to moon. Struck by her courage and bravery. (What...? When she'd spent most of the time putting nail marks on Jon's arm from holding on to him so tightly?) Irrepressibly cheerful. (Okay, she might be guilty of that.) Not to be trifled with. Offered to turn a visiting lecher into a castrati. (Oh, no, not that story!) Outstanding young woman, bright, brave and bold. (Just who was Amanda talking about – it couldn't be her!) And her next job – to graduate from high school! (Great! Why not pin a target on her back? Why not just include her name and address?)

  She got up and began pacing, trying to keep her temper under control. It didn't help that the phone operators were, to begin with, overly polite, as if they were afraid something terrible might happen to them. Finally, though, her 'irrepressible cheerfulness' overcame her frustration, so she called for everyone's attention and announced, “Okay, I am ticked off, but only at the writer of that article – she got more things wrong than right. But, I'm not upset with any of you, so you can all relax.” At least that straightened out the atmosphere at work, but Beth spent a good part of her free time thinking of things she wanted to say to Amanda.

  Jon was waiting outside at 2000 with a grin on his face that she was almost tempted to slap off his face. As though he'd read her mind, though, he'd said, “Now, don't start believing your own press. Remember that I was one of those that you were never able to beat in hand-to-hand.”

  They began walking, to an elevator. “Okay, no taking it out on you, but please tell me that this story hasn't really been published.”

  “Wish I could, but I checked up on it for you, and an excerpt was printed in the Star this morning with the promise that the whole thing will appear bright and early in the paper. By the way, for what it's worth, your parents liked the article.”

  She sputtered, “But there is so much about that story that is so wrong. Amanda makes me sound like someone so extraordinary!”

  Jon stopped, turning towards her and said, softly but firmly, “I can't disagree with Amanda. I think you're extraordinary.”

  Okay, she told herself – one thing at a time, so stop blushing and forget about that fluttery feeling somewhere inside – besides, she wanted to think about those words for a while. She said, with a little pout, “Don't try and distract me right now – I want to talk to Amanda while I'm still angry at her.”

  “Okay,” Jon replied with a grin, “I'll distract you later.”

  Don't pay attention to that little shiver, either, she told herself, as she marched toward the residence. Maybe the privates made some movement to slow her down, but, if they did, she didn't notice it, but marched straight into the atrium. The only thing that slowed her down was noticing that the consul was talking with Praetor Chen. They both turned to look at her, and she froze immediately, suspecting that she was in some kind of trouble.

  “Sometimes, Mary, volunteers just sort of magically appear when they're needed,” the consul said in a thoughtful voice.

  Praetor Chen smiled with great delight. “What a wonderful suggestion, Michael!” Addressing Beth, she said, “Miss Jordan, you have just volunteered to assist the consul's Amanda, helping her put on a diplomatic reception and dinner in two weeks. There will be information on your new duties waiting for you when you check in tomorrow. Thank you, Michael, for your advice,” she said as she rose. “See you tomorrow.”

  As she left, Beth was left standing speechless. The consul continued looking at her and then motioned for her and Jon to approach the desk. “Was there something you wanted to say, Miss Jordan?” he said.

  “Sir. I hoped to speak to Amanda, Sir.”

  “She is currently doing some research about basic training. Rather curious, don't you think, to research after writing, rather than before?”

  “Sir, I had hoped to speak to Amanda about the article.”

  “Really? About what?”

  “About the inaccuracies, sir. She portrayed me as some one unusual, extraordinary.”

  The consul looked at her without speaking for a while and Beth had to concentrate on keeping a worried expression off her face. It was not necessarily a good sign when the boss was this quiet. Finally he broke the silence. “You may not be able to see it, Miss Jordan, but you are extraordinary. As Master Harrison, standing there with a grin on his face, is also extraordinary. But, what is more interesting to me, and others, is that, as a team, together, the two of you are even more extraordinary than one might expect. That is why, Master Harrison, I do believe I just heard you volunteer to be Miss Jordan's assistant as she helps Amanda.”

  “Sir,” Jon barked, “I wouldn't dare disagree with the consul's hearing.”

  “Good, then I'm sure you two have other things to do. Dismissed.”

  Realizing that to stay might lead to more assignments, Beth, with Jon at her heels, left the residence more quickly than she had entered. Once outside, she shook her head. “What just happened?”

  “The simple mistake every marine makes once in a while – failing to stay as far away from officers as possible.”

  “All I wanted to do was yell at Amanda a little bit. Now I have to help Amanda put on a party for diplomats?”

  “Yes, but I'll be your loyal assistant – in fact, starting right now! I said I'd distract you, so...,” he held out his hand and she took it, “... let's talk about sex.”

  Beth thought she'd shrivel up from the heat of her blushing. Thankfully, Jon informed her he was teasing and asked her what had bothered her about the conversation earl
ier in the day. Gradually her embarrassment left and she was having a more open conversation about sex with a male than she had ever expected to have. She was more than delighted to know that not only did Jon accept her views about physical relationships, but his views were the same as hers.

  As they reached the apartments, Jon said, “I have to warn you that there is one more surprise for you today. A number of other people have read the article as well.” With that, he opened the door to her apartment and Beth found a party going on. All the codjits were there, as well as some other friends. They dragged her in, profusely apologized for ever calling her an Amazon – because that wasn't sufficiently honorific – and made an incredibly big deal out of presenting her with a Halloween costume and proclaiming her to be the new 'Wonder Woman.' She couldn't resist the absurdity of the situation, so everyone was soon rolling with laughter. It was a wonderful party, although she made every one leave by 2200, so that she, and everyone else, could get ready for the next day.

  Next morning, Jon made a point of walking her to Jordan's, and delighted her parents with the story of the 'award' the codjits had given her. Somehow it all helped and made the day more bearable, because it became very obvious that a number of people, students as well as teachers, had seen Amanda's article. She did her best to ignore all of it, and was helped by two things. First, Jack, whom she suspected had read the article, made a point of finding her before school and assuring her that the rumors were all wrong, that he'd never claimed they'd slept together. She had her doubts as to how sincere and truthful he was, but she was polite about accepting his statement. The other thing kept her feeling warm and mushy inside most of the day – Jon sent a couple of encouraging notes to her during the day (which Molly would only display on her portfolio during breaks between classes), that thrilled her with his support.

  * * * * *

  Michael woke a little earlier than normal and got a good, hot shower before checking his reports. The urban praetor reported no major incidents during the night, only a couple of rowdies who were bounced out the gate. Fleet reported that the ISS America was ready for departure and that the ISS Russia was in the final stages of construction. Foreign listed the diplomats who were scheduled to take the flight, as well as the reporters. Agriculture reported on the farmers and their families who were going up, and Commerce summarized the rest of the passengers. It looked like a very mixed bag for this first flight, Michael thought.

  There were other things to think about, but he found his thoughts turning toward Amanda. Her article last week on Beth had been … interesting was perhaps the best word. He'd thought it had been a good assessment of Bethany Jordan and had been very amused when Beth had come storming in, ready to give Amanda a piece of her mind. Some of the lower ranks, and some of the outside consultants, however, professed themselves greatly impressed, and expected it to have an unusual effect.

  Michael had seen the next article as well, and it focused on Tommy Mills, painting him as the warrior incarnate, the stern First who caused fear and trembling in the hearts of all. Once again, he agreed with the article, but he couldn't wait to see what happened when Tommy read it, and had a chance to express himself to Amanda.

  There were other problems, though, maybe serious ones. He had been having an uncomfortable feeling for a while now, as if there were a target on his back. It wasn't an outside threat, because marine intelligence, the speculatores, would have alerted him. He'd noticed nothing out of the ordinary in his conversations with the emperor, and there wasn't anyone else who …, wait a minute. There was someone else, after all.

  This called for some serious thinking. The empress, on occasion, was known to indulge in a little match-making. He'd seen it on a number of occasions and not only had the greatest respect for her influence, but also an almost superstitious awe at her talent in spotting matches to begin with. If she had spotted something between himself and Amanda, that would go a long way in explaining why the emperor had been so insistent on making the purchase of Amanda – what an inescapable way of throwing the two of them together. That would mean there was a really good chance that he and Amanda would make a good pair, which would explain why his opinion of her had changed so much since the first time they met. This whole thing needed some definite consideration, both because it re-enforced the necessity of not putting any pressure on Amanda, and because it meant he needed to be more observant about what might be going on underneath his own nose.

  There was a knock at his door, and he heard Tommy's voice, “Hey, lazy bones! Are you awake yet?”

  “Yeah, Tommy, come on in.”

  “It's almost time to go. Anything going on I should know about?”

  “No, just considering some possible trends, and trying to decide whether they constitute a plot or not. And, before you say it, if I decide something needs to be done, I'll ask you for help and advice.” Michael put on his dress coat and headed toward the street, sweeping up his escort as he went. He stopped briefly at the donut shop next door to grab some coffee and something to eat. It was amusing to hear Amanda grumble something about the fact that they were trading bad habits – she was getting up early and having a proper breakfast and he was doing the opposite. And, he decided, he needed to think about why he was feeling that way, why he was so amused.

  That led him to consider another recent development as he finished his food on the walk to the Fleet Harbor. By the time they reached it, he'd finally noticed that Amanda had been quiet for most of the walk, something that he would classify as unusual. They entered the harbor and were led off to another balcony overlooking a hangar, but this one had the ISS America inside of it, attached to a boarding tube. They began boarding immediately without thinking a thing about it, but Michael heard in the background some complaints and marine auxilia explaining to the foreigners that Latins and citizens always took precedence.

  “New reporters,” Amanda said, “you'd think they'd pay attention to their briefing, but some of them never do.”

  “Speaking of reporters,” Michael said, “Mary Chen wants you off the job with the reporters. She feels, based on some questions from some diplomats, that it doesn't work well for you to party with the diplomats while answering all sorts of questions for the reporters.”

  Amanda almost came to a stop. “I would have thought that leaving me in the unofficial spokesman role would be more of a test for me.”

  “That might be true, but Mary seems to think it will make things harder for her. Otherwise, I don't know what tests others may have for you, but I'm not doing any testing.”

  She shrugged but said nothing, so he went on. “So from today on, you'll turn babysitting the reporters over to someone else. Besides your writing and researching, you'll orchestrate any diplomatic things that I'll have to be involved in.”

  “Who do I turn the reporters over to?”

  “Whoever you pick.”

  “What?” Amanda did stop dead in her tracks at that.

  “There are several candidates among the imperial slaves. You will get to meet them and pick one of them, give one of them a chance to replace you.”

  At first she muttered softly, “That sneaky son ….” Then she went on in a clearer voice, “That's the test, isn't it?”

  “It's a test, for you and for them. I don't know if it is 'the' test.” At her questioning look, he went on. “The one you pick will have the opportunity to work toward a pardon and Latin rights.”

  She looked stunned as she was ushered on to the ship and onto the upper deck. “No! It's not right to put such a burden on me!”

  “The burden of giving someone the chance to get out of slavery? Be thankful you don't have the burden of imposing slavery, or death, on someone.” She was quiet for some time after that, and Michael saw that she was seated by the window, so she could have a chance to see the view. The other passengers began filing on. Many of the diplomats and all of the reporters tried to sit on the upper deck where he was. They all kept moving past him somewhat quickly, thoug
h, partly, he thought with a hidden smile, because Tommy seemed to be glaring at everyone.

  Eventually everyone was seated, the doors were closed and the intercom came on. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We will be moving out to lift off shortly. Feel free to use your seat belts if you are nervous. Please remain in your seats until we are out of the atmosphere. We will reach Capitol in about two hours. During the flight stewards will provide you with drinks. Enjoy your flight.”

  Amanda had been looking out the window as the ship began to move. “The voice sounds familiar. Is it the pilot from our last flight?” Michael nodded. “And stewards? Any pretty ones?” She was smiling, apparently remembering the youngster who had made the suggestion.

  “I don't know if they would all meet with his approval, but I can guarantee you 'lots of little bottles of airplane booze.'” Amanda had smiled briefly, then the smile had quickly disappeared. “You might want to consider a last impromptu press conference,” he said. “There are bound to be questions, and the pilot has been ordered to make himself available to answer them.” She nodded and looked out the window as the Superman theme began again and they moved quickly upwards. There were gasps and whispered comments heard from all over the plane. Michael simply sat back, closed his eyes and relaxed; he still had a lot to think about. He felt Amanda get up and move back a few seats to talk, and opened his eyes to see the pilot leave the cockpit and head back as well. He only heard part of the conference, but it was more than enough to know what was going on.

  The ship is a Boeing 747-400. Most of the plane had been built by Boeing, but the propulsion and guidance systems were all imperial. No, indeed, there aren’t any visible engines. It seats 400 people. Everything is so spacious because the emperor wanted it to be that way. Thanks for your concern for the emperor's costs in running this ship with those fares of a denarius, but I'm sure he'll contact you when he starts running out of money. How does it work? Sorry, the rule is: most of the time we'll tell you what, sometimes tell you why, never tell you how. The speed is approaching 150,000 miles per hour. Again, no how questions. The number of new arrivals and tourists required a new ship, or ships, to handle the number. I don't know how many people reside in Capitol right now – ask at the Capitol urban praetor's office. Our return departure time today is 1400.