by Pam Uphoff
"Hey, Choir, you waiting for Ashe, too?"
Qyyr regarded her from under lowered eyebrows. "I hope you aren't going to keep him long, Rael." An angry huff. "I'm having enough trouble already. I really shouldn't have to be working to connect with him, after a year."
Rael shrugged. "Maybe you're trying too hard? Come and have coffee with me, and I'll give you some pointers about subtlety . . . " Not that you'll listen, but I’ll bet you'll tell me more than I want to know. And you're not as young as you look. I'll bet you had some short assignments, watching one term wonders, and were recalled when they lost reelection.
Choir tossed a last glance at the closed door and led Rael down to the break room. The two workers there glanced at Choir and left quickly. Rael poured a cup of coffee and sat down at one of the little tables.
"So, how is the ambassador getting on with his wife? How long have they been married? Four years?"
"Almost, and no children." She looked smug.
"This marriage game is . . . "
"Ridiculous." Choir tossed her headful of auburn hair. "Ashe is obviously the highest of the High Oners."
Rael nodded. "Obviously. I wonder if Madam Xaum is a 216?"
Choir smiled thinly. "So she knew she was as good as barren when she married him. Maybe she thought she could get some of that Wine of the Gods here and that would do the trick."
"If she did, it obviously didn't work."
Choir nodded sharply. "He'll have to divorce soon."
Have to? No, and he doesn't impress me as that big of a social climber. Well, third wife, so he is. And she doesn't have family connections of any note.
"But if you're trying to drive them apart, that can backfire on you. They'll resist the pressure, and then the lingering ill-will when they do divorce will attach to you as well. You're better off being supportive but a bit distant. Then when she finally goes, you console him."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "That might work. But One damn I hate to wait. Maybe I should get some of . . . " she broke off.
Rael snorted. "Do you want to get pregnant? That's not really . . . "
"Something a Princess ought to do?" She smiled snarkily. "But he'll be needing a new wife if he . . . tries for an elective office."
Rael shuddered. You mean the Presidency. Well, this Princess isn't in love with her principal, but she sure wants to be the president's wife. This isn't a healthy relationship. Nor useful for the One . . . I think. If the One wants Ashe to run, a pushy ambitious wife would help. And help steer the president afterward.
"Hmm, interesting analysis. I think I'll go take a look at Madam Xaum and talk to the ambassador later."
***
"Rael dear, how nice to see you again." Madam Xaum's eyebrows rose as she looked Rael up and down. "And you're very nearly not clashing."
Rael giggled. "You've been talking to my mother again, haven't you?"
"Of course. I got down there a few months ago to see my own parents, and old friends and enemies. Funny to think how Raod and I used to hate each other's guts and compete for men's attention. And now she has four children . . . " The corners of her mouth turned down again. "I thought when I found Ashe, I'd found the man I would love and cherish forever."
"Is he . . . unhappy that you haven't . . . "
"Three miscarriages in three and a half years. We're incompatible. I . . . if I want children I'm going to have to give up Ashe." A sheen of tears in her eyes. "And the children."
"Asnu is growing up into such a fine young man, and the girls! I adore those two girls. Arwen's growing into a beauty, and she's nice and smart . . . And Tiger—Rowr, you know, she used to run around roaring—she doesn't think she needs to be snuggled any more." Xaum looked away, blinking.
Rael nodded. "They're what, fifteen and twelve?"
"Yes, and aren't you well informed."
"Meh. The Ambassador's one of the people we get briefed on. How's the new Princess working out?"
"Oh . . . don't get me started. Within a week Ashe tossed her out of the apartment and told her to only annoy him during office hours. And she makes snippy remarks about my figure." Xaum ran her hands down her flat stomach. "I'm the perfect high society wife. Except for one thing."
Well, I know how to derail that bitch . . .
Rael pulled out her thin wallet, and pulled out the little tube of Joy Juice. Urfa's given some of us permission to carry and use at need. He was thinking medical emergency, and asked us to be discreet and not bring it to the attention of the police. But this is a political ploy . . . Meh, what the hell.
Xaum's eyes widened in speculation. Narrowed in thought.
"Stay for afternoon tea, Rael . . . or perhaps a glass of wine?"
Chapter Eight
26 Hija 1408 yp
Embassy World
"My nefarious plans proceed apace." Ebsa stacked the last frost covered box and stepped out of the Squishy. Closed the door and closed the bubble handles. Put the pencils in his pocket.
Epic looked worried. "Good said to tell you that Master Chef Unsa bought all the Emu. A hundred kilos."
"Not to worry. I have two hundred kilos of halal boneless chicken and three hundred and fifty kilos of halal beef. I have fresh veggies. I have fresh herbs. What I need are a few easy-serve gadgets. Some small pots to keep sauces hot and that are easy to pour out of. And maybe some large pots. Let's go prowl the mall and see what's available right here before I try ordering anything else."
"You're running out of time."
"Yep. Four days. I can’t be sure I’ll get anything I order in time." Ebsa headed across the field on the hastily graveled path they were all using. Number One Minion in tow.
Number Two Minion appears to have developed a passion for reading case studies and recommended regulations. And organizing them. I guess some people really are suited for the legal profession.
Two hours later they lugged four big stock pots and four very mismatched teapots, chosen for their large spouts rather than esthetics, back to the squishy kitchen.
Ra'd was waiting for him. "Twenty more gallons of passably good red wine. Ten more gallons of heavy cream. Really, I had no idea how much went into all these fancy sauces of yours."
"Well, I've never cooked for a nebulous sized crowd of 'twenty thousand people work here and who knows how many more will come' before." Ebsa eyed the boxes of wine. "The wine reduction sauce is going to take the most time. I'll start working on it tonight."
Epic grinned. "You can cook everything ahead of time and keep it in the squishy in the bubble!"
"Yep. But just the sauces and maybe the veggies. I'll put on a bit of a show, cooking the meat. I'm tempted to do it over flaming charcoal, just for the spectacle."
Ra'd laughed. "Did you learn your knife juggling in the kitchen, Kitchen?"
"Of course. When my Momma wasn't looking."
That got laughs. From them, and the girls as they walked in. The Ambassador's pair, Arwen and Tiger, appeared to have ditched their guard and chaperone and joined up with Epic's sisters, Sophy and Goose in roaming Embassy.
Ebsa looked at Epic. "Did you look into the schools here?"
"Yeah," He glanced at his sisters. "As soon as the fair's over, we're all three starting in the Disco school."
Arwen perked up. "Dad's actually thinking about letting us attend."
Tiger bounced and grinned. "Anything would be better than that computer course and that horrible tutor. Stepmom's all in favor of the school."
"Stepmom?" Ra'd frowned at them.
Tiger edged away. "Dad's third wife. I like her, we're all hoping Dad won't be stupid and divorce her, too."
Arwen nodded. "She's a good one. She even taught us how to cook. It's fun."
"And we get to be your helpers, right Ebsa?" Tiger looked hopeful.
"You're all going to get me into trouble with the child labor laws—not that Embassy seems to have any—but yeah. I'll need the help."
Oh One! They’re so young!
Bu
t nothing is going to happen to them!
Ebsa looked down at his list. "Now, I need a small pavilion sort of thing, and this bunting Mike spoke of. I've looked at the site, but they don't have khaki and brown, so I think I'll go with orange."
Ra'd snickered. "Luckily for you, orange doesn't come with the same freight of meaning as green."
Ebsa paused. "Should it?"
"No, the Orange Team never used that name again, after they arrived here. But two and a half centuries later, my dad did tell me about it. That was their Explorer Team name, carried over from their early years when the . . . products of the various genetic engineering companies were evaluated as to the utility of their various experimental additions."
The kids all gawped at him.
Ebsa thought that over. He knew them all. Or at least the ones still alive after two and a half centuries of off-and-on warfare. "I'll bet the historians are swooning at your stepmother's feet."
That got a grin. "According to rumors she's only hit one of them. So far."
A feminine laugh from behind him. Paer ran a hand up and down Ebsa’s back as she stepped up beside him. "I heard she boxed his ears and told him to be more respectful."
Ebsa raised his eyebrows.
"Three more patients discharged. Just three still in the hospital. Yes, Woofie and Rye. Their parents came again today. They're all bearing up all right." She snorted. "And on my way here, five people asked me what you were cooking for dinner tonight. One what you were cooking for the Fair. And two castigated me for running around with low lifes."
She sighed. "Three more marriage proposals. Is there no limit to social climbers?"
Ra'd flashed a grin. "What's the population of the Empire? Nine billion? Roughly half male? That pretty much limits it."
Paer rolled her eyes. "Only three billion, nine hundred and ninety-nine million nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and sixty-three to go."
Epic blinked. "Only thirty-seven proposals?" He eyed Ebsa and Paer blushed.
Ebsa shrugged. "I'm stupid and Paer's dad had enough trouble his last election."
Paer nodded. "Two years, then if he doesn't get up the nerve, I'll give him the heave-ho."
"See? My mother always said you'd throw me over and break my heart."
She shook her fist at him.
Ebsa grabbed it and kissed her knuckles . . . retreated hastily. "And I'd better start dinner or I won't be able to support a wife and everyone will nod knowingly and make snide remarks about gigolos."
They followed the graveled path to the paved paths between the buildings and out to the main courtyard. Some odd clinks . . . Paer straightened and trotted ahead and around the corner.
Ebsa followed and found Paer surrounded by black horses . . . or rather Black Horse Guards.
". . . trot them all through until they take it in stride. I hadn't realized it was worse than a corridor." Captain Yfda, the head of the Honor Guard drill team was dressed casually today.
All the riders looked around as a horse leaped through the gate, snorting and prancing.
Paer giggled. "Poor babies, ruining their spook-proof reputations. Mind you, I agree with them."
Ebsa snickered. "Oh, it's not that much worse. But a good thing they're getting practice . . . Oops, Baron just put on the brakes."
Paer glanced at him, then pulled him aside. "Ebsa . . . people keep saying things . . . When I look through the gate it's a little foggy. Just enough that I wasn't sure which horse that was. What do you see?"
Ebsa eyed her. "It’s clear and sharp. No fog at all . . . "
They all dodged as Baron leaped through the gate, bucking and kicking.
Paer was giggling. "I brought Crystal and Raccio here and, well, I didn't use the Embassy gate, I used one of the rarely used hub gates and got them both used to them. Silly, really, when they'll never need to go through gates."
Yfda looked over at her. "That's a good idea. We'll trot them around here so they see the ground and we plan out the pattern we'll use. Then we'll go find a different gate and get the poor critters used to it."
A laugh from Ra'd. "There are other gates here, if you want to practice without an audience. There's a Maze entrance to the northwest."
Paer perked up. "I've heard about that. When the Fallen figured out how to make their gates, they couldn't figure out how to close them. So they made a maze of thirty some gates and corridors to slow pursuit before they came and spied on us. Embassy is one of the Worlds they discovered and used."
"There's thirty worlds out there . . . just . . ."
"Really? I hadn't heard that." A stranger . . . or rather not. The distinct reddish tones of his skin and dark hair marked him as a . . . well, Tick Tock, because most people couldn't manage the language at all. *Zolt, with a tsk sort of click that Ebsa couldn't seem to get to blend into a single word.
Ebsa nodded politely. "Subdirector." Urk! Must practice his name!
Paer grinned and shook his hand. "Congratulations, Subdirector !Tok." She integrated a deep roof of the mouth tok seamlessly with the rest. "Are you still involved with your Olympic Equestrian Teams? Or I suppose you're too busy."
!Tok laughed. "I'm surprised you remember me, since I wasn't one of the riders."
"No, but you told me all about the horses." Paer grinned. "Am I remembering right that that was your nephew who took the Individual Silver?"
"Yep. Ten years ago and he's still Grandmother's favorite on the strength of it. We bagged our first Gold two years ago." A quick grin. "But then we didn't have to beat you."
Paer sighed. "One of these days . . . years . . . I'll get back to riding regularly."
!Tok nodded. "And with your horse bubbled, you'll still have your Olympic mount." He eyed the black horses. "I actually came to check out how much room the cook-off booth will have. Izzo told me I had to learn to delegate these minor tasks. I told him any excuse to get away from the desk . . ."
Paer giggled. "Let me show you. The Disco people taped things off and argued about how much space was needed for each, so these spots aren't set in stone . . . "
Ebsa followed them out and the Black Horse Guards, having gotten their dozen mounts through the gate, came out as well to examine the ground.
:: Oooo Weee! Look at the studs! ::
Ebsa looked over his shoulder, startled . . . and even more startled to see nothing but a trio of loose horses.
:: Twelve of them, each prettier than the last! ::
:: Oooo! Look at the mane on that one!! ::
:: And muscles. What is it about black stallions . . ."
A laugh from Ra'd. "Shut your mouth, Eb. Flame, they're all geldings. You and your buddies would find them very disappointing."
The chestnut snorted. :: Figures. ::
The bay tossed her head. :: We can fix that. ::
The palomino nodded. :: Free them from bondage! ::
Ebsa swallowed. "But I'm sure you'd like to see them all dance first. Right?"
The mares perked their ears up as the guards circled just a bit.
They stuck their noses together and all communication was in ear twitches and nods. A few mental whickers . . . or perhaps snickers.
Paer was snickering. "Oh Ebsa, the look on your face! I told you they were telepathic. Didn't you believe me? I want an import permit so badly, but Xen says the smart horses aren't property, and that one would be lonely . . . until some scientist decided to dissect him."
"Ouch! Yeah. And with all the genetic engineering, would they even be allowed in shows? I don't know the rules . . . " He watched Ra'd walking up to the chestnut mare and vaulting aboard. No bridle, no saddle.
Paer bit her lip. "I don't, either. Guess I ought to find out."
They watched the guards trot off, following Ra'd.
"Paer . . . should we go talk to Wolfson about this? I mean . . . "
She started giggling. "A diplomatic crisis when a gang of Comet Fall mares liberate the Black Horse Guard Drill Team horses!"
> They were still laughing when they walked up the Disco steps.
***
"Oh. Mares! That was a complication I hadn't considered. " Xen shook his head. "Maybe I should borrow Phantom, distract them with a different black stallion."
Paer grinned. "Ooo! Every member of Urfa's staff who was with him after the Merge talked about your mother's big black stallion. I want to see him!"
Xen grinned and glanced at the door.
Good was hovering in the doorway. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Just something about land ownership . . . "
"Oh. I suppose that's another big hole."
"Yeah. You sell the land for the embassies, but what about the businesses? The houses? There's nothing, no laws about it. No regulations or procedures." He looked horrified. "There's no paperwork, no land ownership registry."
"Oh. Well . . . right. Check with both your people and Earth's for the sort of laws we need about it, massively streamline it and give copies to me, Lon and Inso. We'll hash out something, no doubt arguing with your father all the way."
"Right, assuming dad comes in to work tomorrow. He caught something, but his secretary says it can't be too bad, he sounded a bit tired, but happy to take a day off, when she called to check on him this morning."
Xen snorted. "I hope he's healthy. Pity if he was the one who missed this whole insane Fall Festival."
Paer giggled. "Everyone wonders what he's up to. Rael thinks he's boosting his visibility before a presidential bid."
Good's eyes widened. "Dad? President? Oh. My. One. I think . . . I think I'm going to go hide my head in a computer, and pretend that horrible possibility was never heard!"
Xen grinned at his departing back. "I think we need to hire that young man."
Paer grinned. "He's waiting to hear from the UENY Law School, but he might accept a paid internship for a few months."
"Ah, now there's a good idea."
Paer grinned. "Always happy to help the Empire infiltrate Disco. C'mon Ebs, let's get."
