Admiral (10 page)

I smiled wide as I drank in the sight of a Rabbit standing tall and proud on the bridge of one of His Majesty's ships of the line, even if an obsolescent one, thoroughly in command and so far as I could tell fully respected by the humans sitting and standing all around him. Other people saw a certain Admiral Birkenhead in such a light all of the time these days, I knew. But for me, well...

It was a new—and most welcome!—experience.

"Of course!" I replied through the first smile I'd experienced in weeks. "In my working quarters, then?"

He smiled back—perhaps he'd been lonely too? "That'd be perfect, sir! I'll see you in three hours!"

15

I chose to receive Nestor in private for a dozen different reasons.  One was that he might wish to discuss sensitive information. Another was that this was his first big independent assignment, and he might very well have made serious mistakes—the first time was rough on everyone. Also, knowing he was a bit shy sometimes, I felt that he might give me more complete information without an audience.

But the biggest reason, of course, was that I knew I was going to bunny-hug him half to death the moment I saw him, and it'd be best if that happened in private.

Apparently he felt the same way, because crowbars couldn't have separated us for a long, wonderful time. Then we finally sat down in our respective chairs and got down to business. "Sir," he began. "The first thing I want to say is that for all these years I've completely underestimated you. I had no idea whatsoever of how hard it is to be in charge. I mean, none! It's not just the workload—it's all the worry."

I smiled a little and nodded. "Thank you."

"That said..." He sighed and shook his head. "The situation on Boyen Twelve was in many ways exactly as we expected it to be. And yet in even more ways it was beyond our wildest imaginings." He looked up from his folder. "Is it always that way?"

"Pretty much," I assured him.

"Anyway," he continued, once again intent on his notes. "Upon our arrival the first thing we noticed was that planetary traffic control was still operational. Not
fully
operational, mind you—it was over an hour before our entry into the system was noticed, and when decisions were required regarding what to do with us and what orbits to put us in, well... That took even longer. But..." He smiled. "The surprise was that it was working
at all
."

I blinked. "Manned by Rabbits?"

"Dogs, actually. Being part of the planet's security apparatus, it was sort of their bailiwick. They'd studied their masters for years, you see. So when the time came they weren't afraid to try it themselves. Though they freely admitted to me later that if anything major had gone offline they could never have repaired it."

I blinked again. "I see." 

He smiled. "Anyway... They had a working planetary government up and running too, which was probably easier than it sounds since there were only a few hundred thousand on the planet. So we were able to negotiate properly and everything." He smiled and thumped his feet like a kit. "Piece of cake!"

I smiled back, but didn't thump even though I felt like it. "Wow! That's pretty good for a bunch of ex-slaves." I let my expression sober again. "How did they succeed in rebelling?"

"It was a carefully organized coup," Nestor explained. "I swear, whoever writes the first book about it is going to be rich; truth in this case is far stranger than fiction. There was this one Rabbit in a key position—she could read and write especially well, and so became an office assistant for an Imperial official in the Bureau of Economics. Over the years she set up a communications network with other literate Rabbits. It kept growing bigger until eventually the slaves were better informed about what was going on in the galaxy than their masters. They'd been making plans for ages when we won the Battle of Wilkes Prime, which they understood ended any real chance of Imperial reprisal. That's when they struck, sir, while the humans were still reeling in shock over such a horrid defeat. The Rabbits simply took up weapons and arrested every human in sight, while the Dogs were held back to deal with any organized resistance."

"So it wasn't completely bloodless?"

"No, sir. A few thousand humans tried to hole up in the governmental buildings in the capitol city." He frowned. "They were asked to surrender three times. Then, the Dogs burned the entire city to the ground. In their opinion they had no other choice; the humans were threatening to use nukes, and no one was sure if they really had them or not. Plus, of course, there were other holdouts here and there. But most of the civilian humans are still alive, sir, and though held captive are being treated decently. I made it a point to meet with their leaders several times."

I nodded again, taken aback by the wonder of it all. "You say they've achieved a stable government?"

"They function, albeit in fits and jerks and not at all efficiently. The good news is that they're fully aware of what a miserable job they were doing and that all it would've taken was a single epidemic or major shortage of some kind to topple them." Nestor smiled. "They welcomed us with open arms, sir, and accepted every expert we offered them with not just relief but outright enthusiasm. The temporary head of the government stepped down the moment she learned we were in-system, for example—her first words to me were 'Long live the King!'. And that's been the attitude there ever since. You know how practical and down to earth most Rabbits are, sir. All they want is to be free, and to get back to growing food."

I nodded slowly. "It sounds like you've done well, Nestor. Congratulations."

His ear-linings darkened. "I'd never have been anyone without you, sir. Sometimes I think none of us ever would've been."

I smiled back. "Nonsense! This... revolutionary doe, I suppose you could call her. I've never had anything to do with
her
, now have I? Yet she's freed a world, if I have my facts straight. That's one accomplished Rabbit right there, one who can proudly stand on her own two legs and look any human there ever was dead in the eye! She didn't need any outside help from anyone." I leaned back in my chair. "Now there's a girl I'd like to meet!"

Nestor smiled again, but didn't raise his eyes. "Someone had to come and make the formal surrender. To kneel before you in person, in other words. It just so happens she was chosen for the honor." His smile widened. "Sir, her name is Frieda. She's originally from Marcus Prime. And curiously enough, she's even more eager to meet you than you are her."

16

All the next day, everyone I had any personal contact whatsoever with was most unaccountably smiling. Well, a few could be said to be grinning as opposed to outright smiling, but that was putting too fine an edge on the matter. I might've been irritated by this, and probably would've been had it happened even a few days earlier. But as things were, well… A Prince of the Realm can have no real privacy, especially when he gets so carried away in the magic of a moment that he forgets to close the security-shutters in his sleeping-chamber. So by now it was inevitable that everyone knew Frieda and I were already a lot more than merely good friends.

Not that we could've kept it a secret very long anyway. "My Prince," Frieda greeted me immediately after making her supplication in the name of her planet's populace. "I once promised to save something for you. And here it is after so many years that I nearly gave up all hope." Then, very slowly, she pulled a pressed and dried fire lily from her bosom and presented it to me.

And that was all I could stand—all
either
of us could stand, most likely. I asked Nestor to please clear my schedule until the next morning, then within minutes my doe and I found our way into my bedroom. And, well… so far I can see the rest isn't anyone's business but our own, no matter how many Heralds and guards and other personal servants must've stood at the forgotten shutters and gaped at the goings-on. The good news was that as near as I could tell everyone in my retinue seemed to approve overwhelmingly. The smiles might've been knowing in nature, but they also reflected a genuine sharing of my own happiness. 

Everyone smiled on the bridge as well when I made my late-morning appearance there. Sir Leslie was already there waiting for me, sipping fragrant coffee from an expensive cup and of course wearing his own silly smile. It should've been a long, tough slog to the bridge; I'd barely slept at all the night before, and had expended considerable energy besides. Yet I practically danced all the long way there—I felt as if I'd shed twenty years. The colors were brighter, the scents cleaner, the brasswork shinier… I felt as if I were a middie again. And of course I smiled too.

"Well, Sir Leslie," I began. "We've come to the far end of the Empire. Beyond this point lies little but unexplored space."

His smile widened. "Heaven knows that when I was a young officer I never expected to live to see it."

"Nor I." Then I wriggled my nose for a moment. "There's not much more of value to be accomplished out this way, that I can see at least."

"No, sir," he agreed again. "We've dismembered them—taken everything worth having. All the local planets trade with Royal worlds now. I can't imagine why the Emperor won't surrender. He couldn't win even before. But now… He's been reduced to practically nothing."

"It's a form of insanity, I fear. A dangerous one." For the first time in hours my smile faded, and I stood silent as I thought matters over.

"I'm very pleased that you found her, sir," Leslie said into the silence. "I had no idea you were even looking. No one did, apparently. But now… Nothing could've made me happier, David. And I mean that."

My smile returned. "Thank you, Sir Leslie." Then I made my final decision. "We've done what we can do towards ending the war out this way, I think. There's no more pressure to be applied, once everything of value has been taken. So I think it's time for the Third Fleet to shape a new course."

"If you think so, David, then so do I."

I smiled again. Our mostly-noble officer corps was in some ways still just as blind and ignorant as it'd been when I was still just a ship's boy. This was something I'd always wanted to remedy, but as yet hadn't had much opportunity. To give them their due, however, they'd proven remarkably open-minded about many things. Or at least they had once the facts were rammed far enough down their throats! Was this relative flexibility of mind on the part of our officer corps, tiny as the advantage was, the ultimate reason we'd finally beaten the Imperials? One among many, I decided. Certainly it was the ultimate reason our slaves were being freed as quickly as we could make it happen. And despite all his faults, Sir Leslie had been the first of the nobles to admit he'd been wrong. For this as well as his personal courage I'd always respect him. Even if he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, I'd respect him. "Let's go join the blockade of Imperious," I ordered. It may've appeared a spontaneous choice, but I'd been planning for weeks to make the move just as soon as Nestor's squadron rejoined us. "Perhaps we can find more mischief to make there." 

17

Interstellar voyages resemble travel by old-fashioned sailing ship more than anything else. Though the weather is far less interesting in space and the likelihood of arriving alive at one's destination is considerably higher, both modes of travel consume enough months that the ships become miniature communities complete with gossip, crime, newspapers, and social cliques. And of course shipboard romances are justifiably famous. On passenger liners, where people of both sexes live in close proximity to each other and the usual inhibitions are at least partly lifted, well… such affairs are the stuff of so many novels that they practically constitute a genre of their own. Every year saw the production of a brand-new mountain of the stuff.

Romances were
not
commonplace on navy ships, however—our crews were all-male, and while homosexuality was permitted there were surprisingly few takers even among the humans, who were far more flexible in these matters than we ex-slave-species. And so I suppose that Frieda must've felt very lonely for girl-type company once our initial joy at seeing each other after so long was sated. It probably sounded very well indeed to have a prince as a boyfriend, but like most of the population of the universe my beloved had never spent any time at all around a working Court or even just a throne room, and therefore had no concept whatsoever of how terribly twisted out of true my life was. The Heralds' continual questions and efforts to predict my actions weirded her out to no end, for example, while Nestor had to explain to her why I was so cold and haughty when sitting on my throne. (I had to be, lest even my friends begin walking all over me.) Then there were the long hours and the constant reading-up on current events and dinners, dinners, dinners everywhere, with her on my arm but with us both so very much on-stage every second of every minute that we might as well have been on different planets in terms of intimacy. Via much fighting, kicking and screaming, I managed to free up almost an hour a day to spend with the doe I very much hoped to soon marry. That doesn't sound so bad until you realize that it included breakfast and lunch, meals at which I was practically forced to entertain at least one or two visitors. Plus, she told me once, she was rather taken aback at how accustomed I'd become to having my bidding done for me without a single question being asked. "You're in command so much of the time that you don't even realize what you sound like to a non-subordinate," she explained once, not long after breaking out weeping in my cabin. "I… I want to be
special
to you, not just another junior officer!" And she was right, I came to understand. It was shocking, how far my hard-won conversational skills had degenerated into "Do this!" and "Do that!" without my even noticing. It was probably an occupational hazard for both admirals and princes royal, but that didn't make me feel any less embarrassed when I finally realized the truth.