by Derek Haines
‘Feb! Feb! Stop it!’ April half screamed. ‘You have to do your duty Feb. You have to. Understand?’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘According to the conventions of succession, if an heir refuses to accept, he’ll be vaporised within an hour of refusing and the next in line will be appointed,’ April explained.
‘And who is the next in line?’ Feb asked.
‘Your cousin December.’
‘The little shit head who cheated by copying all my school projects and used to take delight in smashing all my toys I had as a child? The monster who glued me to my chair in college? The dunderhead who told everyone at university that I was the illegitimate child of a right royal waste disposal man who’d had an illicit affair with my mother?’
‘Yes Feb. That’s the one,’ May replied.
‘I’ll accept then.’
‘Good.’
‘Then my first decree will be to make dimwit December a cultural ambassador to the furthest, hottest and most insignificant little planet in the Twelfth Sun System!’
‘Calm down Feb.”
‘I’m calm.’
‘Good. So do you know what you should wear to the Grand Council?’ May asked.
‘No, not really.’
‘Do you have any idea what it means to be the next Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth?’
‘Eh. No, not really.’
‘Feb, I really think you’re in for a rough week,’ May replied.
‘And life,’ April added.
To say February was not anywhere near prepared to be the Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth was an understatement. Not only had he never been to a meeting of the Grand Council, he had in fact never even been to any kind of meeting at all. He’d had a doctor’s appointment once, but cancelled at the last minute because he didn’t know how to get there by himself. Other attempts at an independent life were stymied by his lack of enthusiasm for anything that required him to think for himself. Feb did manage to go shopping a few times, but was so suckered in by advertising such as, ‘Two for the price of one’, ‘Buy one. Get one free’, ‘Free toy inside’, ‘Buy twelve for a chance to win’ and ‘Your dog will love you for it’ that he ended up buying half the stock of the supermarket and asking the check out lady if they had a dog he could buy as he had just bought twenty bags of dog food because he wanted a chance at having someone love him.
In Gloth years he was sixty-six, but he always preferred to age by the Gregorian calendar which made him exactly twenty-two. By either measurement he was immature, lazy, rather slow thinking and liked anything that had a screen, coloured buttons and made beeping noises. He also suffered from that age old intergalactic ailment of young men. Acne. Through the eons of space and time the nickname of Crater Face had not lost its meaning or frequency of being affixed to poor young souls who were unfortunate enough to have a face that immediately reminded one of the surface of a dying moon. Feb also had yet to master personal hygiene and could manage for days without a shower, bath, brushing his teeth or combing his hair. It was a need based thing as he hardly had a raging social life, so had very few people who were around him often enough to be perfectly honest with him and tell him that he was definitely on the nose.
On the positive side, Feb was quite tall, slim, had unfashionably longish blond hair and pretty blue eyes. However his left eye wasn’t quite in unison with his right, which was a bit disconcerting for those meeting Feb for first time. Even the second and third time could be a struggle for those unused to Feb’s left eye moving left and right while his right eye stayed perfectly still and was seemingly staring at you. Then there were his teeth. An unfortunate product of unlucky genetics. As a result of inheriting his father’s large square jaw and his mother’s delicately small teeth, there was almost enough room between his teeth to park a row of Hoog Battleships.
February was however, a very good backgammon player, though he had so few friends, he had to be satisfied with beating his computer ninety-seven point nine percent of the time.
‘You’ll need to find your royal suit Feb,’ May ordered.
‘What does it look like?’
‘White jacket, gold buttons, Gloth crest, blue trousers and a blue cape with gold trim,’ May said.
‘Oh! That. I think it might be in my wardrobe. But the last time I wore it I think I was about eleven. To uncle November’s funeral.’
‘I think I’ll call the Palace dresser April.’
‘Yes. Good idea May.’
Feb went back to trying to improve his winning average against his backgammon computer but was interrupted by May before he could complete his first move.
‘Oh get into the bathroom and have a shower Feb. You really do stink.’
‘But I just rolled a double six!’
The Fifth
February entered the Grand Council Hall right on time at four, accompanied by his three elder sisters, who had performed miracles in not only getting their young brother there punctually and suitably dressed, but also bathed and body odour free. April, May and June were dressed in their blue, white and gold royal gowns complete with small golden half helmets that covered the back of their heads. The light half helmets had twelve geometrical identical faces and represented not only the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth, but also signified the protection the unified systems gave its people. Unlike February, all three sisters had long dark hair that flowed to their waists, brown eyes, except for June who had greenish grey eyes, and were considered by many to be the epitome of Glothic beauty. With high cheek bones and mouths that seemed to have perennial smiles, this was no wonder.
It was a large auditorium with a raised rostrum at the front where the twenty Grand Councillors were seated. The rest of the seats were at a lower level tiering back to the rear of the enormity. Feb estimated that there must have been more than five thousand people. All probably waiting for him to do something silly.
‘Who are all these people?’ Feb whispered to April as they started to walk slowly towards the rostrum down a red carpeted aisle, where four vacant chairs and a squad of young ushers awaited them.
‘Ambassadors, ministers, delegates and Gloth royalty. Don’t be nervous. Everything’ll be fine Feb. Do you remember what you have to say?’
‘I sledge to work and die in the service of the Eleven Sun Systems of Gloth and its royal populations.’
‘Pledge Feb!’ April hissed in whisper. ‘And twelve suns and loyal populations’
‘Right. Got it. Pledge. Twelve. Royal.’
‘Loyal!’
‘Right. Loyal.’
A booming voice that seemed to emanate from every corner of the auditorium and then immediately echo into every other corner, invited Feb forward.
‘Come forward February Gregorian, third son of August Gregorian and take your place in the Grand Council of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth.’
Feb noticed that the middle and seemingly oldest Grand Councillor's lips were moving so he assumed it was he who had uttered the booming and echoing words. He had a fleeting thought about turning on his heels and running for his life, but his sister May took hold of his hand just in time to guide him forwards instead of his inclination, which was backwards. As they neared the four places reserved for them, May reminded Feb that he shouldn't sit down. He had to wait for an invitation from the Grand Council President before they sat. He stood as straight as he could in front of his seat with April and May on his right and June on his left and heard the sound of thousands of backsides noisily rising from their seats behind him.
The booming and echoing voice, which now was clearly the voice of the old man in the middle of the Grand Council being amplified from the microphone in front of his mouth, started speaking again. Feb wondered what sort of sound system must be being used to add all the spooky effects to the old man’s voice. Echo, reverb, delay and boost for sure. Maybe even some tremolo. The orchestrated lighting also gave the old man a look of power and probably helped hide
a lot of his wrinkles. Feb stood and listened without intent as what was obviously an introduction started. He heard his father’s and brothers' names mentioned once or twice, but tuned out to what sounded like a whole thirty minutes of procedural geek speak. In the end, he missed the part about sitting down finally and was the last one to sit after June tugged at his arm.
‘Fellow citizens of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth,’ the old man started again once everyone was seated. ‘It is my saddened duty today to inform you of the passing of our great leader, August the Eightieth, the Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth. His passing and those of his two sons, October and March are truly mourned by us all. Please all rise and reflect in two minutes of silence, on the wondrous achievements of August the Eightieth.’
Feb and his sisters rose to their feet again and as he noticed all three of his sisters had their heads bowed, he thought he should do the same. He also heard the sound of more than five thousand backsides rising from their seats behind him, yet again. Feb turned his head slightly so he could whisper in May’s ear.
‘How many times do we have to get up and down?’
‘Sshhh Feb!’
Feb turned his head back and used the remainder of the two minutes to ponder again about running away before he took his oath. But the thought of being vaporised and letting snotty little December become a somebody bought him back to his senses. Supreme ruler did finally seem a better alternative to being instantly vaporised. Finally at the end of the two minutes of silence, the old man gestured for everyone to be seated again. Once seated, April sternly reminded Feb to sit up straight.
‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family,’ the old man started to say after rising to his feet to address the Grand Council. ‘It is my solemn duty as President of the Grand Council of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth to seek your approval to invest the new Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth in accordance with the succession laws of our great empire. Would you please vote by our customary showing or hiding of hands.’
The hand voting system of the Grand Council was a real time saver. It was introduced by July the Fourth, a million and a half years or so before, to replace the time consuming practice of the raising of hands for yea and then yet again for nay. There was also a problem with the possible number of arms and hands delegates had, so this new system negated the advantage that six and eight armed members enjoyed. In its place, both yea and nay voted at once. For a yea, a delegate places both or all their hands on his or her head. Or heads. For a nay vote, a delegate crosses all of his or her arms across their chest, maintaining a clear head. Or heads. The clear head count was then subtracted from the total number of heads and a result was achieved in half the time.
While on the subject of halve, there was a clear advantage in this new voting system for dual or multi-headed delegates. To compensate for this, the number of delegates elected from each planet to sit in the High Council was divided by their number of heads. So the planet of Myscopinia which was populated by a single headed race therefore had the maximum of twenty delegates. Whereas the planet Outer Multitudinous had a four headed race of people. Well, reptilian in fact, but the label of people had been voted and passed into existence eons ago so that all subjects of the Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth were referred to simply as people. So under the head ratio system, Outer Multitudinous only had five delegates. But each head counted so they retained their allotted twenty votes. As one could imagine, political lobbying was a far easier and cheaper affair on Outer Multitudinous than on Myscopinia. One fifth cheaper and easier in fact.
As the counting proceeded, the President of the Grand Council remained standing and waited for the result of the vote. He could clearly see that every delegate had their arms on their heads, but as protocol demanded, he had to wait until the official vote was counted.
‘What’s his name?’ Feb whispered to April.
‘Who Feb?’ she whispered back.
‘The old guy up there.’
‘Oh Feb! You should know that.’
‘I don’t though.’
‘He’s The Puissant of Croonumble, Lefroy Overload. The President of the Grand Council.’
‘So what do I call him?’
‘Sir.’
‘Oh. Easy then.’
‘Yes,’ April whispered back in a tone that gave a hint that she might be reconsidering the possibility of an imminent and empire saving vaporisation.
‘You really are going to have to grow up Feb – and within the next ten minutes,’ April whispered.
‘Roger Alpha Sierra,’ Feb replied, which he had suddenly thought was a clever way of saying yes to his big sister.
The Puissant of Croonumble, Lefroy Overload, President of the Grand Council stood erect as the official vote result was handed to him by a council usher. He took his time to read and absorb the result. He then slowly lifted his head in a dramatic moment that was hardly necessary as everyone present knew what the result was anyway.
‘Ambassadors, councillors, ministers, delegates and members of the Gregorian Royal Family. I hereby declare the motion carried by a unanimous vote and ask February Gregorian to step forward.’
It only took a small shove from May for Feb to stand and move forward towards the rostrum. He stopped as instructed earlier, on a chalk cross marked on the blue carpet. He stood surprisingly erect and seemingly in control of himself, facing the President of the Grand Council as he waited for his investiture to begin. Ushers arrived in an instant and immediately went about adding fur lined capes, a crown sort of thing and shoved what looked like a club in his right hand. In fact the club looking thing was really an Orb encrusted with precious stones and metals atop a black rod. Feb made the sensible decision to hold it with both hands as it was surprisingly heavy, looked very old, and was probably quite valuable he thought to himself. He waited for the ushers to finish their finicking and fussing with his attire and kept his focus on the old man in front of him.
Once the ushers were satisfied with their work, they retreated a safe distance and stood behind Feb’s seated sisters. The old man looked like he was about to speak, so Feb paid close attention and tried to remember the three words April had reminded him to get correct. Pledge. Twelve. Loyal. Before opening his mouth, The Puissant of Croonumble, Lefroy Overload, the President of the Grand Council placed his left palm on a strange object in front of himself on the rostrum. It resembled a black pyramid with the top third cut off, and stood almost as high as the old man’s waist. It illuminated once the old man’s palm was in contact with it and changed from a harmless black looking thing to a throbbing, pulsating bright blue glowing thing that not only cast a complimentary light on the old man’s face, but it was also obviously in contact with the Orb in Feb’s two hands, as it too started throbbing, pulsating and glowing a similar yet slightly lighter blue. Feb hoped the reflection on his own face was as complimentary and possibly helping in hiding his abundant pimples and acne craters.
‘February Gregorian,’ the old man’s voice boomed. So loud and so sudden, Feb nearly dropped his Orb in fright. He took a deep breath to compose himself and concentrated on the old man and the three words. Pledge. Twelve. Loyal.
‘In accordance with the articles of succession and the royal statutes of the Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth, it is my duty as President of the Grand Council to conduct the investiture of February Gregorian as our next Supreme Potentate. The powers entrusted to me have been handed down through the generations of our eternal history of Gloth and are living proof of the stability of our benefactorial system of governance we enjoy throughout our Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth and by all who inhabit them. With the passage of time……’
Feb started to lose concentration as the old man seemed to be getting well and truly settled into a long and symbolic speech about the wonders of the system of governance and how Gloth really was the very best thing in the whole e
ntire universe. He once again started to remind himself of his three words he had to remember, but was interrupted between Pledge and Twelve by a sudden thought about the necessity to ensure all children in Gloth were given equal educational opportunities. And then before he could get to Loyal as he had planned, another thought about an improved transport system between the small planet of Musciadantropica and the regional planet hub of Sandisoriallity came rushing to his mind. Feb wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but he couldn’t help but think that all these throbbing, pulsating bright blue glowing things must be doing something to his head. And quite good things at that. He stood a little straighter and taller as his confidence seemed to be being fertilised. He could feel it growing rapidly.
As the end of the old man’s sentences were now taking on a more downward intonation, Feb had the distinct feeling that the speech that had now been rambling on for nearly half an hour, was about to end. He was right. The old man fell silent, paused, and raised his right hand with his middle fingers pressed against his palm leaving his little and index fingers plus his thumb protruding in the sign or salute of loyalty to the Supreme Potentate. He held his hand high for effect, waited, then finally got on with things again.
‘I ask you sir to swear the oath of the Supreme Potentate and take your place as February the Fifth, Supreme Potentate of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth.’
Feb raised his right hand high, then folded his middle fingers firmly and made an outstandingly firm salute before starting his oath.
‘I, February Gregorian, pledge to work and die in the service of the Twelve Sun Systems of Gloth and its loyal populations,’ Feb said in a confident and powerful tone surprising not only himself but leaving his three sisters with their mouths gaping open in awe. Then as the throbbing, pulsating bright blue glowing things started to return to their normal static states, May was sure that Feb had matured rather suddenly and dramatically.
