by Pam Uphoff
"Hey!"
"Take it up with the ambassador. You appear to be his pet." Unsa marched off, nose in the air.
Ebsa stepped out of the way of the other two cooks.
Ra'd shook his head. "I'd have punched him."
"Tsk. Haven't you heard that revenge is a dish best served cold?"
"Yes, but never in the context of a cooking contest. It's always interesting watching you finesse these situations."
"He's smooth, all right." One of Ra'd's security team had been watching. "Sneaky. This should be fun. So long as he keeps cooking."
Ebsa shrugged. "I hate to tell you this, but I think the kitchen squishy was supposed to be delivered today."
"No!" A mass moan from several directions.
"But Ajha did say something about sending funds this direction to cover feeding the directorate staff along with my actual job which is feeding the Project Dystopia staff."
That got a cheer, and Ebsa headed around the corner to check on the aforementioned squishies, and found a small city being assembled.
The team from the project was watching from a safe distance, and Iqgu waved him over. "It beats tents, but we're getting bored."
Ebsa nodded. "So, work or play? On the one hand, you could explore Embassy's uncharted wilderness. Or invite family and/or girlfriends out to play on the beach or climb mountains."
Multiple sighs.
Ogly shook his head. "With our jobs? Girlfriends? You're kidding, right?"
"Hmm, this is a problem. How many unmarried women were in the project? There was at least one women's barracks . . . No?"
"Nope, they were outnumbered three-to-one by unmarried men."
"Hmm . . . " :: Hey Nighthawk? Any witches around who'd like to party with these poor Oners stuck here for three months? ::
He felt her amusement. :: They might not like the way witches play, but I'll check. ::
The team was watching him, expectantly.
"A friend of mine will check and see if there are any lonely witches around." Ebsa bit his lip. "Umm . . . "
"We know! We got the lecture about 'This isn't home. Rape is punished no matter where it happens. And you won't like the punishment.' Without saying what it is."
***
They all turned and looked at a raised voice.
"No, no, no. You can't just leave these things wherever you want! They have to be in line to hook up the plumbing!"
Ebsa eyed the not orderly almost- line of squishies. And the familiar exasperated man waving his arms at the construction crew. "Looks like Wxxo's having problems with inexperienced delivery people." He headed across the roughly mown grass to the bulldozed construction site.
"This one doesn't have plumbing, so it doesn't matter. Just get a crane." The driver climbed back into his truck, a whine as the ramp the squishy had slid down cranked back to flat, and the truck drove off, leaving Wxxo swearing.
"Hi, Boss. Need help?"
"No, when it finally gets too bad I can punch them myself. What I need is a crane." He kicked the cube of the just delivered squishy, all the walls, floors, and roof in segments that slid and folded and compacted the building down to something that would fit easily through a gate. Three to a flatbed tip. From the looks of it, the drivers had just been tipping their beds and dropping all three together. "This one isn't even turned the right direction, and if it hasn't got plumbing . . . " He stooped to read the label. "Expansion or storage. What the One bloody hell. I need places for people to live."
Ebsa eyed the ragged line of squishies, all of them still squished.
Wxxo nodded. "Yep. Half of them turned wrong, quite apart from being out of line."
Ebsa looked back at the Teamers who had followed him. "So . . . you guys ever do any levitation? No? Well, you were complaining about being bored . . . "
Yeahza laughed. "Yeah, I want to see this . . . actually, I want to do this."
Wxxo grinned. "I'll just watch, thankyouverymuch. C'mon down here and start at the beginning."
Ebsa took the south and Iqgu the north position. Six more of them slotted themselves in between, all used to each other, and Ebsa, the outsider, probably had more compass experience than any of them. He pulled his inner shields in tight, softened the outer and sank into the merge. Gathered power and started passing it around, gathering power and smoothing it out into a spinning ring.
:: Take the basic levitation spell, push it under the squishy and let it expand gently.::
:: Weird. :: ::It's a lot of mass.:: :: Don't worry about that, just ease power in until . . . there, feel it starting to float? ::
Wxxo's voice. "Turn it . . . Guys! Grab it and shove!"
Ebsa let his amusement ooze into the merge. :: Might as well let them do the shoving. ::
:: Just don't drop it on their toes. :: :: Spoilsport. :: And they seem happy with it like that so now we slowly pull the power out of the levitation . . . And move it over there . . . ::
They levitated five before Ebsa eased the power all the way down and released the merge.
And looked at the audience. About half in Directorate brown or khaki and the rest in civilian business suits.
Ra'd plunked a crate of boost down, grinning. "Take a break and I'll lead the next compass."
By the time Wxxo called a halt, they'd run through six compasses and had a neat row of thirty squishies being expanded and hooked into the water and sewer lines.
And twenty to do tomorrow, plus any more they deliver.
"Damn, that was fun." Wxxo rubbed his temples. He'd joined the third Compass. "Mind you I'm going to talk to whoever's loading those squishies about getting them turned around right for unloading. And the drivers about placement." He glared at the last squishy. "Not to mention the wrong kind in the wrong place."
Ebsa walked up to it. "So it's just empty? How about I get it out of your way for a couple of weeks?" He glanced around. The spectators were leaving, the sun below the horizon and the colors fading.
Wzzo grinned. "While no one's looking? Certainly. I can't wait to see what you're going to do with it. Shall we expand it for you first?"
"Thank you Chief. That would be excellent."
Ra'd laughed. "Give me the pencils. I'll put your boxes in the squishy and scoop up the whole thing. You had better head for the kitchen. There's a crowd staring in dismay at the cold grill."
Chapter Seven
21 Hija 1408 yp
Embassy World
Rael worked her way slowly and carefully through three layers of frequency shifting shields and eased the door open.
And was promptly grabbed.
And thoroughly kissed, pressed against the wall.
"Got you. And I'm not going to let you go until you tell me what your ambassador is up to."
Rael giggled. "My lips are sealed, do your worst, you Evil Wizard."
A final nibble along her jawline, then Xen stepped back and set her on her feet. "Does that mean you don't know, or you're not telling?"
"Don't know. Funny thing is, I'd swear that the Prime Councilor doesn't know either. Orde brought it up over dinner yesterday. My best guess is that Ambassador Ashe has decided to run for President."
"Agni's that badly damaged?"
"Hard to say, and the Ambassador, being a moderately well known member of the War Party . . . maybe he's really going to challenge him . . . and maybe he's been chosen to scare off any other candidates."
"Old Gods! Spare me from Oner politics. It's over a year until the election even starts."
Rael decided against giggling. "Perfect for testing the waters. The good news is, that would mean the Ambassador's bright idea needs to come off without a hitch."
He nodded. "But if Agni shows up, I should go into panic mode?"
"Oh . . . I doubt he'll do his own dirty work . . . " Rael trailed off. "Urg! I'll talk to Izzo. It's been less than a year since he was an insider at Internal. Drat, his move lost me my best inside source."
"But it gave me an External Relations D
irector I know and can trust to at least be honestly carrying out the president's wishes, not playing party politics."
Rael giggled at that. "Not that he couldn't, he's gotten very good at reading the plays. But you're right. He uses it to do what's right, not what will get him ahead."
"And he's a Modernist." Xen stepped back far enough to study her. "Is he Orde's chosen successor?"
"Umm, give him a few years at XR to show his management style and we'll see."
"I always wondered if Urfa might run."
"He'd be good, too, but he was completely unknown until Orde won, and people suddenly started checking out his miniscule staff. He needs ten or twenty years in some other top positions, maybe even running for the Council."
"Oooo! Now I like that idea. Get him up to Prime Councilor . . . "
"Not a chance. The Modernist Party is growing slowly, but it's still small and, well, the Helios raid really cut confidence in Orde. The last election was a real squeaker. Hopefully five years of peace and prosperity, and the One settled down with a single philosophy will result in a good solid win in 1410."
"And then Izzo in 1415. Yeah, I'd like that." Xen's shoulders relaxed. "So if this isn't a power play of Ambassador Ashe's . . . what else could it be?"
Rael didn't have to fake that giggle. "Izzo says he's trying to steal a chef. He says he doesn't appear to even realize that Ebsa's a Warrior."
"Steal . . . "
"Show him how much fun working for the embassy is and . . . "
Xen laughed. "I've met your student. Very impressive. Paer's got good tastes."
"My student? Well, all right I mentored him at a crucial stage of his teenage angst. And I suppose I could call him a, hmm, step nephew? My sister—who is actually my half-cousin—married his father, her fifth husband, but he lived with his mother and didn't meet Raod until the funeral. Umm, My sister, Ebsa, and I were all suspects in his murder. But it was someone else and Raod married the cop and had four kids. So it all worked out well."
"Huh. I got the impression you were home rehabbing. Sounds a bit exciting."
"Well, it definitely got my mind off my body and kept me active." Rael eyed him. "Kept my mind off you. Except you kept popping up needing analysis. Oh One. Your . . . chat with the Earthers in Fascia! I just about died laughing over the Disco Elves comment."
"I've seen enough of the dance craze now to see why it's amusing. But it doesn't seem bad enough for the widespread . . . hysterical laughter."
Rael just patted his arm.
Xen leaned in for a bit more body contact. "So . . . apart from the first ever Multiverse cook-off . . . are you supposed to seduce any other information out of me?"
"Nope. I'm just going to pop over to Building Three and chatter away at everyone."
"Oh, I see. I get to chase you this time."
"Later. I need to take a first look and plan my assault on the Ambassador's deepest secrets." She batted her eyelashes, and giggled at his lowered brows. "Probably through either his wife or his Princess. Possibly a secretary."
"You are such a Bad Girl. I think I need to kidnap you and hold you prisoner for at least two weeks."
"Promise?"
"I've got a castle half-built for that very purpose, but things keep coming up."
"Like this cook-off? Relax. It's a whole different kind of crisis than, say Helios. This'll mainly be politics, with a strong seasoning of youthful competitive sabotage."
"That does not reassure me."
She giggled. "I'll go see what's going on in the ladies gossip circuit, and see you for dinner . . . maybe."
***
When she walked back into the embassy enclave she was surprised to be accosted by the guards . . . "Ra'd? What are you doing still here?"
"Still guarding. Except when I'm learning Comet Fall magic."
"Hmm, yes. I'm jealous that you figured out how teleporting works before I did. What are you going to do next?"
"Not sure. But I'm sure something will come up. What are you doing here? Or can't you say?"
"Keeping an eye on this insane cook-off. And figuring out why Ambassador Ashe started it. So where do I go to collect gossip?"
The guards all swapped grins. "The beauty shop." A chorus of three of them, not well synced.
Ra'd snickered. "I'll run recon and see if any of the worst gossips are in today, the timing's about right."
Rael raised her eyebrows.
"There are two competing groups of secretaries and whatnot. They all get their hair cut about the same time so no one gets sneered at as 'letting themselves go, deary?' and so forth. Nasty hen pecking."
"Sounds perfect." Rael put a hand to her short hair. "I could use a trim."
Ra'd grinned while the others boggled. "Boss? Can I take off half an hour early?"
One of the guys waved him off. "I'm not sure you're still assigned to my shift, or anything else, either."
"Ha! Bet I am. Izzo knows better than to let me get bored." Ra'd looked back to Rael. "Let me put on civvies so we don't get snubbed."
Rael nodded, and eyed the other guards curiously. "So you're actually getting along with him?"
That got her a batch of puzzled looks.
"He was a proper little snot of a teenager. Really, Urfa was worried about a Warrior trained juvenile delinquent for a bit there."
The guy in charge shook his head. "I see flashes of that . . . and he was downright scary the way he approved of the genetic attack."
Rael's turn to boggle. "I . . . that was not what I'd assumed his reaction would be. Um, hi! I'm Rael."
Which got her their names in return. A nice bunch of people.
These are the guys they ought to have been pulling into the Action Teams.
Ra'd trotted back in his version of casual that involved a button up dress shirt without a tie. "C'mon, you can meet Fluffy and Buffy. Hairstylists extraordinaire."
"Fluffy and Buffy?" Rael eyed his hair. "You are trimmer than usual."
"Fluffy." He led her through the doors to building two—the residential high rise. "There's two floors of shops and whatnot here."
They crowded into the elevator, Rael swallowed a giggle at the amount of space around Ra'd. They barely notice him, but still don't jostle him.
She followed him off into what looked like a suburban mall, past one beauty shop and around a corner, into another.
Two good looking women, a very well endowed blonde and a slinky brunette.
"This is Fluffy, who cuts my hair, and Buffy her partner in beauty."
The blonde gal laughed. "Such flattery! Is this the almost wife?"
Rael giggled. "No, no, don't get me into trouble with her. I just need a quick trim."
They both eyed her hair.
Ra'd snickered. "She's the other kind of Princess—the deadly fighter. She needs her hair so short it can't be grabbed in a fight, but still attractive. I figure you two could probably pull that off."
Rael had to work to not squirm as she was examined.
Then Fluffy nodded. "We can do it, but we've got appointments for this time block. They're late—as usual."
Buffy stepped out the door and looked both directions. "I see them, dawdling along. We could fit you in after them, say half an hour?"
"No problem. Do you mind if I just sit and read?"
"Sure thing honey. Or join the chatter. Everyone is talking about the Fair."
"The cook-off? The whole thing's just spun up out of control, hasn't it?" Rael pretended to not see Ra'd making his escape.
Buffy grinned. "We'll get a lot of business right up to the day. Then we're going to close the shop and head out to have fun."
The middle-aged woman who walked in to hear that rolled her eyes. "Fun? It's a lot of work for us!"
The second woman snorted. "At least your boss is having fun. Mine is running his staff off their feet, trying to figure out what the Purps are going to do for the fair."
Rael perked up. "They're kind of primitive, aren't they?"
>
Buffy shook her head. "Don't let that wooden fort of theirs fool you. That's just history to them. They do reenactments and such . . . Hmm, I'll bet they'll do one of them."
The first woman laughed. "Don't look so predatory, Moar. I don't think the ambassador is going to let your boss mess it up."
Moar looked down her nose at the other woman. "And of course you know what the ambassador wants."
Supercilious sniff. "What Ambassador Ashe wants is that appalling Princess of his to stop trying to seduce him."
"Really? Why? Xaum's his third wife and she hasn't gotten pregnant. He's probably going to send her off soon."
Rael settled back and soaked up nearly an hour of valuable information. Then got a wonderful shampoo and scalp massage, and what they called a pixie cut that left a bit of curl and would allow a bit of spikiness in the front wisps when she wanted it.
***
Then Rael headed for Building One.
The receptionist recognized her and looked a bit panicked. "I really can't interrupt this meeting!"
"Oh, no, no need. I was just going to pay my respects and so forth." She glanced around the well-appointed space, a few people walking through, a woman pouting—and glowing—in a seat that overlooked the door to their main conference room . . . "Is that Qyyr? Ashe's assigned Princess?"
A sniff from the receptionist. "She prefers it to be pronounced Choir rather than Queer. Yes. She replaced Giet when she retired last year. Nasty piece of work, this one. Please take her away and give the ambassador a break."
Rael giggled. "I'll give it a try. I've never met her."
She strolled over to the other Princess, trying to read her beneath the glow.
Selfish, predatory, ambitious. Ick. Why did the Princess School send her here? I swear for every right match they make, they find a way to fail spectacularly. Maybe Ashe irritated the One? Or being so out of touch they wanted him to have an aggressive Princess who would try to influence him while being uninfluenced herself? If so, I think they failed to consider how little an intelligent man would care for a shrew.
