The View from the Imperium (35 page)

“With that industrial glue powder?” asked Jil Loche Nikhorunkorn, a maternal cousin of mine, with a fierce grin. Jil, who shared my age and propensity for loftiness, also shared a penchant for a good prank. Her brown eyes were shaded by epicanthic folds, which concentrated her long lashes in broad, black fans. She had a long, slender figure that was barely concealed by a tiny swimsuit of brilliant ultramarine. I noticed that she had indulged in a swirl of gems attached around her navel. I didn’t tell her the trend was passé—the damage to her skin from the gems’ removal would keep her out of the sun for a precious two weeks of the desert summer. She’d find out soon enough, then disappear for a while with a face-saving excuse, undoubtedly after the season ended. “She saw the number on my scooter and called my father. Father withdrew a good deal of money from my account. I almost couldn’t go to Tark Sands with everyone else.”

We all agreed that would have been the real tragedy. Tark Sands was a favorite of ours, too. I recalled its ruby dunes and warm, orange sun with a good deal of pleasure. In particular, I remembered a lovely lady who worked as a climate programmer who shared my taste for pomegranate Rhapsody cocktails. With difficulty, I returned my mind to the enjoyable event at hand.

“What are real pirates like?” demanded Scot, who had followed my narrative more closely than most of the others, who were already perusing the dinner menu or toying with the latest of gadgets or one another. He always was the best of listeners. I smiled.

“I can’t speak to all illicit crews. These were nearly all reptilian. The captain was a very ugly Croctoid with a crooked jaw. A quantity of Uctu, three humans, more Crocs, and a Solinian. That wretched fellow bit great-grandfather Morris Ubunte Kinago’s pistol in half!”

My audience laughed.

“I’d heard they eat unrefined ore for breakfast,” said Jil, with a twinkle. “Nice to hear it confirmed.”

“But imagine my surprise when the creature’s teeth did prove equal to the task,” I said. “My heart skipped at least three beats.”

“Do you have pictures?” asked Xan. He lay sprawled with his latest young lovely companion in a hollow that was artfully made in the top of what looked like a dangerous shoal of rocks. When the waves were turned up all the way in the fountain, they crashed convincingly up the slope.

“Some,” I said, cocking a finger to the hovering Optique to display what images Parsons had left in my storage crystal. I had no idea why he had confiscated the majority, but Parsons not moving in mysterious ways was hardly Parsons at all. The glass-smooth waterfall at the end of the fountain pool made an excellent screen. My cousins gasped as the open-jawed visage of the captain blinked into being upon its surface. I narrated the still frames and short segments of video as they appeared, to appreciative laughter and applause. I had, in fact, captured the moment when the gigantic reptile had snapped my pistol off. I let the image linger upon the wall for a moment.

“You must have been just terrified!” Erita said, sounding as though the notion bored her inutterably.

“Later on,” I said. “At that moment I was surprised and a trifle indignant, if you want the truth. I mean, how
dare
he?”

“You look very brave,” Jil assured me. “Not scared at all.”

“Thank you, dear,” I said.

“But all that running, darling,” Erita said. “Wasn’t that tedious?”

“At the time, no,” I said, lying back to choose a canapé from the tray of one of the serving arms secreted in the false rocks around the pool. The tray ran a sensor over my wrist and, knowing my tastes, shifted so that a different piece was just within reach of my fingers. The chunk of steak inside the round, pale pink mushroom ball was just slightly underdone and the spicing was divine. I sighed happily. I had missed the finer elements of food while in space. The hors d’oeuvre was gone in two bites, but it dispelled all thoughts of survival rations. “I call it just amazing how many thoughts that the mind can cram in when under pressure. I had charts of the restaurant’s floor plan and the general layout of the level of the colony, the rules and tricks of swordplay, giving orders and listening to the soldiers, annoyance at Lieutenant Plet’s disapproval, awareness of the savory scent of the food in the restaurant as well as its slipperiness under my feet, concern for the patrons, and a faint worry about Parsons all going at the same time—and those are only the items that I can think of at the moment. I told the maternal unit all about it, and she informs me that it is a common phenomenon. Minds run more efficiently and swiftly on adrenaline. An old-fashioned piece of wisdom, but true nevertheless.”

“What did Aunt Tariana say about the rest of your stint?” Scot asked. “I got the impression from some of your messages on Infogrid that the captain of your ship didn’t appreciate all the help you gave him.”

“That is putting it mildly,” I said. dryly. “Mother did say that the admiral, while an excellent leader and able administrator, has no sense of humor. I stand as witness to insist that that is true, beyond a reasonable specter of doubt, not that I think specters are reasonable. Alas, I feel she did not entirely take my side of the argument.” I allowed a poignant and wistful expression to crease my brow.

“Are you all right?” asked Nalney Ven Kinago, a second cousin, two years older, and a close friend from infancy. His face was the same heroic square as my father’s, but his eyes were a muddy hazel. He sent the wine tray bobbing toward me over the surface of the fountain in which we lounged. He’d had a few run-ins with Mother, one in particular over the matter of the unwitting loan of a standing wardrobe that was a family heirloom. When recovered at the bottom of a ski slope, it was in dire condition, a state that Mother had passed along to him as the guilty party. I am happy to say I had not been involved in that incident.

“It was a bit rough,” I said, indicating to the bottle-holder that it should top up my glass. I sipped the glorious pale wine, which gave me the strength to continue my confession. “Mother took a lot of the skin off my back. It is, after all, her Navy, so you can see she feels strongly about it. I am avoiding the aunts. They set about me as I left Father’s workshop with a host of prospects for marriage. They have had months without my interference to examine the genetic rosters for just the right kind of girl. Starting tomorrow they want me to have coffee or wine with at least one of their prospects per day. The concept is that I will choose one of them, or die in the attempt.”

Scot shuddered. “
I’d
rather die. When the day comes that I must settle down, I’ll . . . I’ll know the love of
my
life. My own love, not someone else’s vision.”

“Hear, hear,” said Nalney.

“I prefer to leave true romance to fate,” I said, lyrically. “Preferably a fate long in the future. I hate eating my dinner with a sword hanging over my head, particularly one composed of two steely-eyed aunts and a lace-trimmed extravaganza, liberally festooned with nagging. I’d rather go out with the fleet again. Not that that’s likely,” I added.

“Oh, well, you’re back now,” said Xan. “You don’t have to worry about taking ship again. All that’s over with. We’ve done our service, and the Emperor can count us as loyal officers.”

“Yes,” I echoed, feeling more lost than I thought I would have. “It’s behind us, isn’t it?”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry to see it end?” Scot asked, in astonishment. “Regimentation, hobnobbing—if you can call it that—with the lower classes. The food! Even though the
Tirisiani
had state of the art kitchens and the head chef from the Autumn Sunrise restaurant on staff, it could not compare to this!”

“No,” I agreed faintly. “It doesn’t compare.”

To my amazement and horror, I felt a pang of longing. I enjoyed my cousins’ company, as I always had, but I found that the thought of never sitting at a table with my fellow ensigns again a sorrowful thing. The shock of dismissal was the worst part. I had had no inkling that Admiral Podesta would have called for my removal. I studied my reaction to see whether I was just suffering from an attack of pique. It took three more canapés and half a glass of wine before I decided that it was not so. I had felt useful. I had been heroic, if I must say so myself. I had struck up friendships with people to whom I was not related and who had no stake beyond simple camaraderie in mind, and found them enjoyable. It was a shame that I would never see them again except at reunions.

“You’re not alone,” Erita said, her voice laced with abundant sympathy.

“I’m not?” I asked, a trifle surprised. Of all the cousins who had started their service at the same time as I, she was the most put out by our lack of comforts and freedoms. My heart went out to her. “You feel the same way as I do?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, feelingly. “All of our relatives are putting pressure upon us to marry.”

I put aside my sense of brothers-in-armsness, which had been disappointed. “Ah, but not with the same doggedness as
my
aunts. Alone, either would be formidable, but together, they display the tenacious quality of permaseal along with the taste of a tongueless beggar. Though there are only two of them, they seem to form an infinite host, surrounding me and haranguing me with voices of iron. They persist in pulling in impoverished female nobles from the provinces in hopes of finding me someone to whom I cannot object based upon previous acquaintance. None of their choices so far would fit into my life, not that I am ready to share it.”

“That is true,” Nalney agreed. “Thomas’s aunts form a unique bond in pursuit of the unsuitable. My immediate relational units merely make suggestions. I ignore them and behave charmingly, and they leave me alone.”

“Me, too,” said Xan. “Otherwise, how could I enjoy the company of the delightful Meghan here?”

“It’s Meghtila,” the girl in question replied, with a frown. Xan turned his attentions upon her, and she was soon persuaded out of her bad mood. They rose from the shallow water, looking for a privacy booth, and we went back to our conversation.

“What will you do now that you are home, Thom?” Scot asked. “Can you come out with me tomorrow? I’ve got some things I want to show you.”

“Me, too!” Jil burst out, unable to contain her glee any longer. “I bought a village!”

“Really?” I said. “Congratulations! Is it on this planet?”

“Yes, and I had to pay a premium for that,” she said. “My goodness, when my agent told me what it would cost for the location I chose, I nearly expired.”

“How did you decide which one you wanted?” asked Erita.

Jil waved a casual hand. “I glanced at a map. I thought it would be fun to have a personal place to recharge in between the capital and my parents’ estate in Olhinha. It was so cute! It has a town square with old-fashioned brick streets, and a couple of little shops, an entertainment palace, a night club, and all these
adorable
stone houses. No wheeled traffic permitted in the historical district. I took over the town hall as my residence, of course. You should have heard the whining and complaining when I made the councillors move their offices, but you couldn’t expect me to live in one of those cottages, darling. My
dog
has a larger house. Besides, I kept in mind the maxim that the agent kept pouring in my ear over and over again: location, location, location. I wanted to make certain that my new people would keep me in mind whenever they passed by. The gardens are lovely, and there’s a stone fountain that absolutely dates back to pretechnological times, darlings.”

I found myself filled with envy and admiration. I wish I had thought of such a thing first. A whole town, to trifle with as one pleased! To follow in her footsteps now would brand me as a copyist, not an original. I sighed. “That is one of the most brilliant moves, my dear. How are you enjoying being the most important person in town?”

Jil pouted. “Truthfully, Thom, darling, it just is not as much fun as I thought it was going to be. All of the tenants nag me all of the time. The little problems they think are important! I said, ‘Go to your town council. I bought them along with everything else.’ And they do, but they always come back. They say, since I own the town, I am responsible. Well, I do try to be responsible, but there are limits even to my patience! My bills for infrastructure repairs are shocking, just shocking! There’s always another hole to pour money into. I think I’ll donate the whole mess to charity. I’ll get a writeoff for the Imperial purse at the same time ridding myself of the nuisance. But before I do, you must come and see it. I put up a statue to myself in the village square.”

“I will,” I promised.

“What did you call it? Jilville? Locheton?” Scot asked, mischievously.

“Oh, you!” Jil cried, tossing her glass at him. The delicate crystal sank in a whirlpool. She reached out and the wine float brought her a replacement. “I had to keep the old name, Broch. It was in the town charter. Broch. How boring is that? But enough about my village. I think I will try an island next time.”

My heart sank. Drat. I had just been about to say that. Another idea scooped. Best to do my thinking when I was not around my cousins. Our minds did tend to run along the same grooves.

“What about the rest of you?” I asked. “What are you going to do now that you’re on leave?”

Nalney snorted. “I am utterly done with the service. Been there, done that, posted the Infogrid image.” He noticed my expression, and his eyebrows flew up. “What, you’re not seriously thinking of continuing? It’s so dreary!

“Oh, I know,” I said, assuming the pose of idle indifference the rest of my cousins habitually wore. It surprised even me that I considered going on, though it was a futile thought now that Admiral Podesta had banned me from the Red Fleet. “But I have a few things I left unfinished, much more interesting than drills or swabbing decks, not that I did much of that.” I sent around a sly glance. “My greatest accomplishment was accumulating an immense file of humorous anecdotes that I guarantee are unknown within the Imperium Court.”

“Jokes in the Navy? How?” Nalney demanded.

“Oh,” I said, “I have . . . connections.” I was not inclined to reveal the means by which I first came across those precious references, even if it would not have violated the protocol of my former office.