GROUND / CH. 23:AGREEMENT
The fact that Mick had been missing for six years hadn't entirely escaped the press's notice, but the circumstances had never been publicly acknowledged. The idea that he might have been a bubble-probe pilot who had vanished had been one of many guesses, but living most of his life on Mars, and then attending university in Atlantis, he'd never been very visible to the press anyway. No one was invading privacy on Mars, either, much to the dissatisfaction of the Earth press. Maybe he'd been eaten by a shark or got lost in a storm, or some other tragedy, maybe he'd done something shocking in Atlantis and the response had been shockingly direct. Nobody knew, and nobody wrote anything any more, and Prince Mick as he was inaccurately called, the missing son of the prince, went missing from people's consciousnesses.
So it was that it took a while before even the most assiduous royal correspondent realised the full implication of the small notice, hidden away among the miscelaneous section of royal press releases. It had said, “Her majesty and the entire royal family rejoices in the discovery of missing bubble-probe ship 3S001 and restoration of contact with pilot Mick Karella John.”
The one the following week, caused a considerable stir. It read “Prince John and princess Karella rejoice at the marriages of their son to Sathzakara Shipbuilder and their daughter to James Farspeaker, in small cermonies on the planet Ground. Both weddings were attended by local dignatories as well as by family members including the Queen Mother. Both young couples will be continuing in their roles on the planetary contact team, and do not expect to return to the solar system for the next year or so. Prince John and princess Karella are expecting to begin their return journey to the Restored Kingdom in just over a week.”
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SPACE
“Well, any thoughts about about treaties and things?” Maggie asked her mother.
“Lots, but not to keep us here. You've enough to keep you busy, and James is a good man. You don't need us taking your time.”
“Mum! You're no trouble!”
“But we are an extra distraction you don't need. You could be spending quality time with James right now.”
Maggie pulled a face. “He's in a meeting. The Linguists are rubbing their hands with glee at the thought of having a permanent someone or three to talk to. Plus, of course, Dantho is very keen on us having an official status here.”
Her mother nodded, “Your medical staff and biologists have all agreed to a trainee or two, you're going to be a regular little training centre.”
“But that's part of the official agreement with Mars Uni. And it'll take at least 2 weeks for a them to get us a messenger back here from Mars.”
“You're forgetting James."
“No I'm not, I'm giving Mars time to react, have a few chats with Atlantis, and work out if they want to send a formal envoy and/or a geologist or two.”
“Ah, so the message you were planning to send with Rachel, and I'm going to convince you to give me, is what, just a fiction?”
Maggie sighed. “It's to confirm what James sends to any sceptics and convince people that we're not suffering from some kind of brain rot. But Rachel is going to take it still, Mum.”
“That's a waste of Rachel's time, don't you think?”
“No, It's an entirely good excuse to get her to her dentist before she becomes an emergency, which is why I don't want you suggesting to her that you could take it, Mum. Please?”
“Too late, but actually I was making noises about leaving to your father at lunch, and she asked me.”
“What does Dad think?”
“Your father is pleased to see his mother enjoying herself, and is keen to tell Ursula she needn't worry. I expect we'll be back in half a year or so, if that's ok?”
“You're utterly decided then?” Maggie asked.
“It was never meant to be a long stay, dear. We can't ever stay this far away for more than a month, you must remember the rules.”
Maggie was confused. Until Albert had turned sixteen, and been deemed mature enough to take up the reins of power, there had been rules; her father had been second in line to the throne and could not be more than a day's travel of the Restored Kingdom for more than a month, or it would trigger a constitutional crisis.
It meant that as she'd been growing up on Mars they'd always had to have a bubble ship available. “I thought that was just before Albert was old enough?”
“Ursula is queen now, Maggie. Until Albert has kids old enough, your Dad is back to being second in line again.”
“Oh wow. I should have realised. I hope Albert isn't getting ideas from his name, and waiting for another Great-grandma Eliza to walk into his life,” Maggie said.
“You think he might be?”
“I don't think he'd be quite so stupid.”
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THE CAPITAL, RESTORED KINGDOM
“Any news, Albert?” Queen Ursula of the Restored Kingdom asked her son, who'd just been talking to a truthsayer.
“Yes, there is a distinct possibility of some interesting collaborative research with the shape shifters of whatever that planet was officially designated, and Russia are getting concerned about there not being enough workers for their forests on Mars, but I'm not volunteering. There's also a personal message from uncle, they're coming home with Rachel, which gives them three pilots.”
“And Rachel is coming home because it gets them home sooner, or for some other reason?”
“Rachel has a recurring tooth ache, and Maggie convinced her it made more sense for her to fly out in company before it turned into medical evacuation.”
“That sounds sensible. And are you looking forward to seeing Rachel again?”
“Not romantically, if that's what you mean, Mum. Rachel is family,”
“She must be what, your sixth or seventh cousin? That's distant enough even for Mer.”
“She's a scientist, Mum. I'm not going to try to steal her from her research to force a crown on her she doesn't want.”
“You've spoken, to her, then?”
“I don't need to mum. I know she's not interested in me.”
“Sure? I'm not the only one who's noticed the pair of you making a beeline towards each other at clan meetings.”
“We've got things in common. Parents getting press attention, things like that.”
“It does seem to run in both families, doesn't it? And I notice she coped very well with the furore when she and Maggie came home. I expect she'll cause more with the news about Mick. I'm not going to intrude more, Albert, but I wanted to point out some facts and to say that if you do end up wondering about romance, you'll hear no objections from the older generation.”
“You mean you've arranged it all for us, Mum?” Albert asked, shocked.
“Arranged, no. But considered? Absolutely, about five years ago.”
“That's just a bit shocking, Mum.”
“Tough. Your dad and I love you, and wanted to be prepared, in case you'd been reaching your own conclusions about where things were going to end up
and Rachel didn't agree.”
“Are you saying that she was interested in me five years ago, Mum?”
“I didn't know. Which was the problem, of course. We didn't know about either of you. Hannah faced roughly the same conundrum. We knew what it had looked like since you were teenagers, but weren't getting a peep out of you, our beloved matriarch, or even Mum.”
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BUBBLE SPACE
“Have you got any idea what's going to greet us when we land, Rachel?“ Karella asked.
“Feeding frenzy?” Rachel guessed. “The information starved news channels of the world will be turning cannibal in their desire for copy.”
John laughed. “Very poetic and sadly accurate, I'm afraid.”
“As well as my appointment with a dentist to arrange, I'm under instructions to see if there are any reporters interested in living in a news-vaccum of a type that hasn't existed since the discovery of the telegraph.”
“That's a bit unfair on James, isn't it? We were getting some news.”
“Yes, but not much — there's just too much happening for anyone to think of it all, and it's not like he's able to talk to spend all day passing on messages to people.”
“I'm glad Mum is planning on dusting off the automatic bubble probes.” John agreed. “It gives future grandparents some hope of getting baby pictures and so on.”
“I've got about a kilo of data crystals to deliver,” Rachel exaggerated. “I expect some of them are related to research papers, but not all by a long shot.”
“You too, eh?” Karella asked. “There are going to be hardly any spare crystals left in the lab stores.”
“Maggie had a very simple policy on that.” John said, “Stores never had any, everyone was responsible for bringing their own.”
“Which is probably why I've got orders for ten times as many as I'm bringing back.” Rachel agreed. “I don't think most people realised what it would be like.”
“But you did?” John asked.
Rachel shook her head, “I was expecting that we'd still be at the 'quiet observation' stage, not the 'come to our wedding' stage.”
“But you're actually at the 'let's negotiate a treaty' stage, aren't you?” John said.
Karella laughed, “As of the last couple of days before we left, I think they've progressed onto 'what about student fees and accommodation?'”
Rachel shook her head. “No mentioned fees as far as I know. Actually it's 'can my family come to visit so they don't think I'm being abducted, and do they really need to walk?'”
“That'd be really hard from Earth.”
“Certainly.” Rachel nodded, and then, far more seriously, asked “John, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” John replied.
“Is your mother's gift ever wrong?”
“Her gift? No. Her interpretation, yes. Why?”
“She came to my room when I was packing and she basically told me to pack everything I have of sentimental value.”
“In those words?”
“No, she went, 'there's something in that box you should take, and you'll want that necklace,' and so on.”
John nodded. “That sounds familiar, she used to do that all the time with me.”
“But what does it mean? Why will I want my grandma's necklace, but not the plans I'd been planning to work on on the way back?”
“You think it might mean that means you're not going back, Rachel?” Karella asked.
“I can't think of what else it might mean.”
“Well, maybe you'll have such interesting company on the way back that you wouldn't get to work on things you expect to, or maybe you'd have to decide between those notes and something else when you pack to go back?” John suggested.
“But I do need some ear-rings that someone gave me when I was silly sixteen and I thought he was quietly planning on sweeping me off my feet?”
“But he wasn't?”
“If he ever was, then I guess he's changed his mind. He's certainly been resolutely silent on the issue ever since. Before too, actually. So much for teenage hopes...” Rachel was surprised to hear the emotion in her own voice.
“Well, if Mum says you'll want them,” John said, “maybe there's still hope?”
“Maybe you ought to wear them for your next appearance on international news, see if it prompts him to reconsider?”
“That'd be much too embarrassing,” Rachel said, starting to blush.
“Why? It's not like anyone but the two of you would know the history. And us of course, but we're not going to tell.”
Rachel considered. “Well, that's a happier reason to not go back than any I could think of. I was half wondering if I would have an accident or if mum or dad would.”
“But if he's as observant as the average man, he probably won't notice anyway,” John said. There was a ping from a timer. “But speaking of next appearances on international news, we need to take some bearings. We ought to be within a few light-days of the sun by now, and it'd be awkward if we got so close to the sun we couldn't use the bubble drive.”
“Extremely embarrassing.” Karella agreed. There was a lurch as the ship returned to normal space. As sometimes happened, the ship came out of warp space with a gentle spin. Rachel looked around.
“Hmm, the sun isn't very bright, but the constellations look entirely familiar. My guess is we're somewhere near. Oh!” Her exclamation was as the sun swam into view and the cabin was suddenly lit brightly. “I guess that wasn't the sun.”
“First rule of astrogation. Don't get your stars confused.” Karella agreed. “John, what does the computer say?”
“Pale blue dot over that way has lots of ocean to swim in, my love.”
“We've got to get away from the world's press first, John. Don't get this merwoman's hopes up.”
“We'll need to pick up our scale anyway.” John pointed out. He glanced at the read-out. “Now ladies, we're about a light-hour from Earth approach, and half an hour after that there's a press-conference. How fast do we want to go? I for one want a shower and a shirt that doesn't show that I can't catch floating tomato juice as well as I used to.”
Karella looked at her husband in a fond and exasperated way. “See, Rachel, they don't really grow up, they just get better at hiding it.”
“If we're really going to face a full press frenzy, then let's go warp zero.”
Rachel suggested, “Or maybe minus one. I'd like my hair to get dry.”
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“Earth approach, don't adjust your scope, this is bubble-probe 2R25 just popped into space-time at five lunar orbits, heading for the restored kingdom.” John said into the radio.
“Bubble probe, please set your transponder to report your geocentric latitude and longitude. Right ascension and declination are a foreign language to our systems.”
“Rachel? Do you remember where that is? It's ages since I've had to switch.” John asked, scanning the control panel.
“There's a flick switch, top left on panel five.” Rachel replied.
“Earth approach, is that better?”
“Very good, but I'm not getting speed. Be aware there's a Mars-bound transport on its way to about where you are in about twenty minutes, so I hope you're moving.”
“Geocentrically we're probably not moving by much. Can we please do a bubble jump a bit closer, say to one lunar orbit, without confusing your traffic patterns?”
“How long will that take you?”
“We'll come nice and slowly. Twenty seconds from your go-ahead.”
“One lunar orbit at your latitude and longitude is clear. Report when you're in position and please do a half-gee polar overpass approach.”
“Is that half gee relative to the planet or to free-fall?”
“Take your pick, sir. Half-gee is not natural, so won't trigger any meteor defences.”
“OK, controls set for half a gee above free-fall, once we're out.”
“Go ahead for bubble transition.”
Another two lurches, and the Earth looked a lot bigger. John said, “Earth approach, probe 2R25 is now on polar overpass approach.”
“Rodger, 2R25, I have you. Please contact Restored Kingdom approach on channel forty seven, once you're near the pole.”
John adjusted the radio and made the call at the relevant time. “Restored Kingdom approach, Bubble probe 2R25 on polar flyby, approaching from deep space. Requesting routing towards Airbase forty.”
“Urm, Negative 2R25, Airbase forty is the centre of a flight exclusion zone, please state alternate destination, over.”
“Restored kingdom approach,” John said. “I guess I'm on the wrong frequency. Can you give me the channel for military approach?”
“This is combined approach.”
That farce over, John said, “One-time scrambler setting seven-zero-one-three-five.”
“Seven zero-one-three-five, acknowledge. Confirm?”
“Confirm.”
John flicked on the scrambler, and started the conversation once again. “Restored Kingdom approach, requesting routing to airbase one, I'm also scrambling my transponder frequency, and changing vector.”
“Rodger, sir, nice to have you back in the area. Route via beacon 1QR, altitude 50 kilometers, and then enter normal east-west traffic at beacon 3QZ before a straight-down approach.”
“Rodger, 1QR and then 3QZ. Please alert Security of our imminent arrival.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Rachel looked at Karella as John set up the autopilot. “Is that normal?”
“Air traffic control acting dumb, and not being told the right details?”
“Yes.”
“It's a security measure, just like everything else. The press conference will first be called at a third airbase, and then moved, or maybe not, as the case may be. Anyone who thinks they can gate-crash by listening in on approach control gets interviewed and warned not to do it again.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“And the scrambler setting is never going to be used again?”
“Exactly, and if John names a used one, then that's a duress code, but the guy at the other end just says, sorry, you used that one before. If John only says something like 'my mistake' then that confirms the duress, but if he calls himself forgetful then that cancels it.”
“Wow. Urm, should I know that?”
“You're clan, Rachel. You might need to know it one day. By the way, James checked in while you where having your shower. I asked if he could ask Heather if the ear-rings need wearing, and she said 'of course they do, but wait until after the press conference.'”
“That's good. They'd be a bit unlikely for everyday space-travel.”
“Am I allowed to know who the young man is?”
“I'd rather not say. Except that he's clan, so I expect I'll meet him soon enough.”
“Heather also added 'Beware, useful doesn't mean that I'm saying anything about what the future holds. Just that not having the things would be a pain.”
“In other words, I might want them as a defence, not to lead to romance? I guess I mustn't get my hopes up.”
Karella pulled a face, “If you want a weapon, then I'd recommend a knife rather than ear-rings, but each to her own, I guess.”
Rachel smiled, holding the little package in her pocket. “I don't think these will kill, but they have their uses, which is what made me hopeful.”
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The press conference took longer than Rachel had expected. Inevitably someone asked about what Mick had been doing on the planet, and how had he survived. Mick had been adamant that no secret be made of his current state, so an information pack had been made for all the accredited reporters. The packs would be given out after the conference. Rachel summarised that he'd been injured, and had been rescued by a local, and that he had been able to learn the language, which was a massive advantage to communication. She also said that because of dangerous wildlife, he'd only been able to go back to the crash site after Maggie's ship had left, which is why the beacon had only been re-enabled at that time.
“Wasn't it automatic?” someone asked.
“The antenna cable got damaged in the crash. Mick cut the cable from the transmitter so that it wasn't short-circuited any more, and stuck a piece of wire into it that was about the right length.” Rachel replied.
“Why didn't anyone with the gift know where Mick was?”
“We presume God had his reasons.” John replied.
“How severely injured was Mick?”
“Very.” Karella replied “Please see the full report in the press pack.”
“When will he be coming home?”
“As the only native human to speak the language fluently, the answer is 'not for a long time'.”
“Has he fully recovered from his injuries?”
“No. See the press pack,” John said.
“Will princess Magdalena be returning home soon?”
Karella replied, “Technically my daughter is not a princess since she's neither on the direct line to the throne nor married to someone who is. As the expedition leader she has no plans to leave at the moment.”
“What about holidays?”
“There are some pleasant places to walk and camp on the world there, most untrod by human foot. The local people have advised us about what areas and what wildlife we should avoid.” Rachel said.
“Are there local carnivores?” someone asked, who obviously didn't have much of a memory.
“Yes, there are plenty of things that would want to eat us. Many of them find onions and garlic extremely toxic, however, and avoid anything that smells of it.”
“Are there parasites?”
“There are things that will invade a scratch, and eat until only your bones are left. There are related organisms in the sea that grow to the size of a house. Shall we say there are lots of ways to die if you're not careful and leave it at that?”
“How did Mick end up getting married so quickly?”
Rachel turned the microphone to Karella, who said “Mick and Sathzakara have known each other since university. They had planned on walking together as soon as Mick returned from his trip. Absence made their hearts grow fonder, and so they were inseparable from the time they met.”
Rachel added. “We could all see their marriage was inevitable.”
“Has anyone been attacked by any of these flesh-eating creatures?”
“Sathzakara walked in an infected area, and was, yes.” Rachel replied “Mick was able to remove it from her using techniques he'd learned from his rescuer. It was after her infection that we proved how effective onion and garlic are.”
“What are the local people like?”
“The ones I've talked to are friendly, and intelligent. Technologically they have radio and thermionic valves, are near controlled fission, and are very alien.”
“Could you expand on what you mean by very alien?”
“As we reported after our first visit. They are themselves colony organisms, they are often shocked at the way we treat our cells, because each of their cells is actually an individual organism in it's own right. A broken bone means dead organisms, and mourning, but because they reform their bodies easily, it doesn't mean incapacity as long as they've got food in their stomachs. Which they mean literally, since that's where they store excess, not in fat cells. They don't give birth, they open a way out for the baby, after a couple of weeks incredibly rapid weight gain, which might start with genetic interchange or a less complex mix and match process where the parents literally get under one another's skin and give bits of themselves to make the kid. Shall I carry on?”
“Thank you. We get the idea. Very alien.”
“Oh, and their eyes have a zoom control, and none of them has ever needed glasses,” Rachel added.
“Will any of them come to Earth?”
“It might be possible, Mars is more likely, because of the gravity.” John said, “But soaps and detergents are poison to them, so a child with bubble mixture would count as a would-be assassin.”
“Miss Ngbila, you're co-leader of the expedition, is there a reason you've come to Earth?”
“I have some recruiting to do: we're thinking that a journalist to document discoveries and events might be an asset, for example, and I need to talk to Mars university about expanding the research goals, which would need some more researchers. But also I need to visit my dentist before an annoying toothache turns into something more serious.” Her wrist unit buzzed, and she added.
“Hopefully that's her now. Excuse me!”
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AT THE DENTIST'S
“All sorted, Maam?” asked the Internal Security agent who'd been assigned to Rachel as she returned to the waiting area.
“For now, yes. I have a hole in a tooth and a temporary filling. I still don't understand why you're assigned to me, though. Don't I just go home from here?”
“You're a guest at the palace, tonight, Maam. Which isn't as a glamorous as it sounds, by the way, it just means that you can get quizzed by the royal family without needing to find a hotel or travel in the early hours of the morning.”
Rachel nodded “It's happened to me before, I must have missed the invitation. I'm in the guest wing, I presume?”
“Princess Karella said that she'd prefer you to be in their spare room, I hope that's acceptable.”
“Very.”
“She also said she thought you might prefer to change before we go to the royal apartments? I think you're perfectly suitably dressed, maam.”
“I expect she was thinking of these.” Rachel said, lifting the little sparkly cylinders out of her pocket. “And I expect you'll want to check them. Mer construction; a gift from prince Albert when I was a teen. Queen Heather said these looked like they'd be useful, so I intend wearing them in public, assuming that's acceptable? Also I wouldn't want Albert to think I'd forgotten or lost them.”
“They're active?”
“Yes. Active sparkle is their normal mode, but they've got a dazzle function too.”
“Manually triggered, or by flash-photography?”
“Both.” It wasn't a full lens-detector system, but the net result was similar after dark or inside: if a flash-photograph was taken involving Rachel's earrings, then faces would be lost in the gloom as the earrings produced an intense burst of light in reply and outshone any reflection.
“Can you suppress the automatic response?”
“Yes, no problem.”
“Good. There are some similar pieces around the palace, and the thought of them all setting each other off...”
Rachel grinned “Really lights up the room, yes. We had a go, and both of us ended up with spots in front of our eyes for the rest of the day.”
“You were close to his royal highness?” Rachel thought she heard a trace of envy from the woman, who was a little younger than herself.
“I'm clan, he's clan, we grew up seeing quite a lot of each other, but there were another ten of us you could say the same about. As far as I know we're not avoiding each other, but somehow our paths haven't crossed in years. Do you think any reporters might have followed me?”
“Entirely possible. Do try to remember to turn them off once we get to the palace,” the agent said, “but it would be a shame to not put them to the test, wouldn't it?”
As they stepped out of the dentist's there was a series of bright flashes and a number of photographers were left blinking away the spots in their eyes. Some of the cameras shut down entirely in protest.
“No photographs, please!” the agent said, “Miss Ngbila values her privacy and I'm on duty.” To Rachel she added quietly, “it looks like they work quite well.”
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THE PALACE
Rachel, Albert decided, was even more beautiful than ever. And she was wearing the dazzle-earrings he'd given her. He decided that was a good sign. It was actually quite hard to pay attention to his food or to the discussions he was supposed to be taking part in with her in the room. Rachel noticed Albert noticing her during the meal, but it was a while before they were able to talk without the whole room being a party to the conversation.
“Hi Rachel.” Albert said, “do I hear the ear-rings still work?”
“They seem to, yes. Half a dozen reporters with spots before their eyes.”
“That brings back memories.”
“Yes. You know, I've not worn them since then?”
“Why not?”
“Told off too severely, I guess. But your grandma said they'd be useful.”
“And they were?”
“I suppose so. I've faced a barrage of flash-guns before.”
“I've been following your career; you've coped really well with the press.”
“Thanks, you haven't made too big a mess of things either. Except that one time...”
“Basse-Monaco harbour?” He'd stepped onto a boat to get past a cameraman, only the boat had just left.
“Exactly.”
“Thank you, Rachel, for reminding me of my most embarrassing moment. I love you too. Lime jelly.”
Rachel grimaced at the memory from her student days. “Oof, I deserved that, OK. Who told you? No, don't answer that. But Albert, more seriously: Your grandma pointed out a whole lot of things that were useful to bring with me — half-way here I realised it was basically all the stuff I wouldn't want to abandon there forever, and she also told me all the work related things I was thinking to bring to work on for the return journey wern't going to be useful. I worried for a bit that meant an accident, but there are other reasons to change careers, aren't there? ... Did you mean what you said when you gave me these?”
“That you light up the room without them? Yes. I.... I just didn't think you were interested in anything but making your mark on science. I've never met anyone who lights up the room like you do, Rachel.”
“Sometimes, Albert, you say the very nicest things. Other times you can entirely fail to ask important questions. For instance, entirely consistently after you gave me these, there's been this question you've not asked.”
“Urm, do you think you might change careers?
“When I was sixteen, I'd have said not for just anyone, no. Still true.”
“For me?”
“It really depends what new career you have in mind for me, your royal highness,” she said, very pleased with the way the conversation was going.
“It's been a long time since we spent much time together, Rachel. Would you do me the honour of putting your return to the lab on hold, at least long enough for us to get to know each other again? So we can make sensible life changing decisions?” He laughed, “If you're contemplating saying no, you want something more definite, then I'll warn you that if you do I'm probably just going to propose on the spot.”
“That would be silly, Albert. Don't do that, I might be tempted to say yes, just to call your bluff. But I'll happily let you add me to the long list of royal girlfriends though.”
In response he ignored protocol and gave her a hug.
"Is it a long list?” Rachel asked.
"My girlfriends? No one on it at all."
“There was Sue,” Rachel pointed out.
“When I was five.”
“And don't forget Janice.”
“On the rebound from Sue. She wasn't very fun to be with, but her brother had a neat remote controlled car, if I remember correctly.”
“So, who else?”
“I think I totally abandoned the idea of a girlfriend after Janice. Except of course there were all sorts of fascinating conversations with you since I was ten.”
“What about buxom young Jasmine? I think her name was that, anyway.”
“Who?”
“Security person I was looked after by this afternoon. Turned slightly green when I said you'd given me the ear-rings.”
“Oh, her. Occasionally seen fluttering her eye-lashes at me, but not a Christian. Warned off by gran on several occasions. On the other hand, my mother, bless her perceptive vision, declared rather pointedly the other day that us being sixth cousins isn't a problem in anyone's books.”
“You're really saying you've been infatuated with me almost a decade, and never said?”
“I did say. I thought you weren't interested.”
“I thought you got cold feet, or distracted by Selina.”
“Selina has a good voice, and makes delicious cakes, but no.” That, as far as he was concerned was where Selina's good points ended. He looked at her wistfully. “It's been ages since I've heard you sing, actually.”
“You think I'm going to sing for you in the middle of this crowd?” Rachel asked, in embarrassed horror.
“I'm sure Selina would.”
“Yes, well, feel free to give her a royal summons.”
“Do you still play the piano?”
“No piano on the lab, certainly no piano in the probe ship. Therefore, I claim to be too out of practice.”
“But if I played, would you sing?”
“In the right context, Albert. I'm fairly sure this isn't it. You're supposed to be quizzing me on the planet Ground. You might want to think about embassy and trade links.”
“Oh? What do they want to export?”
“I had a little private chat to Lana, Mick's rescuer. As shape-shifters they don't do clothes, but they do have a cottage industry making a gorgeous fabric they use for wall-hangings. Its falling out of favour in the city, because of the labour costs involved, but if you were looking for a high value, medium volume trade product that's got a declining home market and so over-capacity and livelihoods at risk....”
“How gorgeous?”
“I'll let you judge that when you come to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh? Am I invited.”
“Yes. I'm also going to bully mum into calling a clan gathering sometime. And as stated at the press conference I've been commissioned to do some recruiting. Otherwise, I think my time is entirely available for reestablishing and deepening old friendships.”
“Not to mention the odd bit of orientation?”
“Hmm. I've had some already.” She looked across the room at at Karella, and decided she'd have to ask her if she'd suspected. Karella flashed her a grin in reply.
“What's my aunt been up to?” Albert asked.
“Telling me all about duress codes on arrival in Kingdom airspace.”
“Oh, Yes, those are worth knowing.”
“Especially when I decide to kidnap you.”
“I thought it was supposed to be the other way round?”
“Who's got an almost undetectable bubble ship at her disposal?” Rachel pointed out, entirely reasonably.
“Would that actually work?”
“What, hiding in a bubble? Almost certainly. Maggie was giving it serious consideration before Mick suggested a mountain get-away. Do you realise how limited a chunk of land is actually inhabited there? And then the entire habitat for all collective organisms and large predators stops at the frost line. Above there its only rodent-like things and the things they live on. Oh, and some bird-like things.”
“None of which are dangerous?”
“Rodents eat grass and bugs, birds eat rodents, blood-sucking bugs don't like the smell of human.”
“And the birds?”
“Against all probability, seem to be higher on the civ-scale than the dog-like predators. Mick asked Lana about why no one ever hunted the birds, and she said 'what, hunt a talking beast?'”
“Do the predators actually talk?”
“Not the same language as the people, not as wide topics. But to a certain extent, yes. They organise vocally, pass on information, teach their kids, and so on.”
“And the birds?”
“All the above, plus make pockets to enable them to carry things. One intrepid explorer-type who Takan, Lana's husband, met on a few occasions, spent his lifetime visiting some and reported that that one the things they carry includes fire, which they use to keep warm in winter. Takan reports that the guy himself admitted he might have been delusional due to cold and fashion when he wrote that down.”
“Cold and fashion?” Albert asked.
“They can grow hair if they want to, but it'd be seen a bit like one of your security people wearing animal skins and wode, and wielding a club. On duty.”
Albert laughed, “That'd get him in trouble with mum.”
“Or her?” Rachel asked, noticing a fearsome looking woman in her mid forties who might make a truly impressive cave-woman.
“Yes.” Albert said noticing her gaze. “I must introduce you to Daphne, she's in charge of Royal Protection.”
“If she's a thought hearer, then I might have just ruined her first impression of me” Rachel admitted.
“Well, let's go and see if you need to explain yourself, then.” Ten steps later, he said, “Daphne? A quiet word?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I'd like you to meet Rachel, who is probably the reason I've never managed to find anyone to trouble your staff. Apparently I didn't make myself clear enough when we were sixteen and she thought I wasn't really serious, despite her hopes. Is that a fair summary, Rach?”
“Pretty much. I buried myself in my work, trying to get over my shattered dreams, when it seems I should have just kidnapped him and used truth serum on him or something. Anyway, we're talking now.” She looked at Albert, “Still more about my work than anything from Mr silent here. But it including such wonders as the possibly deranged writings of a researcher on Ground who'd rather freeze to death or at least insanity than grow fur.”
“Which Maggie described as having a similar social impact as one of your team turning up to work dressed in animal skins and wielding a club. And then I made the unpardonable mistake of assuming she was only talking about the normally clean-shaven males of the species.”
“And suddenly I came to mind, did I?” Daphne asked archly. “Remind me, Rachel, how old do you think this young whipper-snapper is?”
“I'm sure his I.D. ought to say twenty-six because he was born a week before me, but computers can be deceived, and maybe someone has updated it to show his mental age? But, personally I feel like someone has been playing sillies with my mental age too, so its hard to guess. Blame it on an excess of gravity and a slight dose of euphoria.”
“Hmm. Well, please don't decide I'd make an impressive cave-woman ever again, even if I did once play the role, and then assuming you can keep him out of too much trouble we'll be friends.”
Rachel looked at Daphne's face, and said, “The 'dawn of time' remake, you — well, your character — took out the sabre-tooth.”
“Albert primed you, did he?”
“No. The film regularly gets used in training for the Bubble-probes. You're normally voted the character we'd most like to emulate. Watchful, alert, that sort of thing.”
“Getting mauled to death in the almost-final scene?”
“Not your fault. Silly so-called heroine let you down badly.”
“Well! I never knew I had a loyal fandom! Who else gets the vote?”
“Who else? Mr action-hero. At which point the older students point out all the things he gets wrong.”
Daphne grinned. “I had just finished basic training when we were filming. Mr action-hero, as you so wonderfully name him, on the other hand, was proud of his credentials as an actor and his muscles, until I innocently suggested we really do the two-day walk without water to add to the realism.”
“I noticed he didn't do any more work in the genre again after that, for all the awards the film got.”
“So, what's Ground really like?”
“Dry. The air temperature isn't that bad, even in the deserts I was in, because there's a constant breeze. But the humidity is so low there that it's painful on the eyes. The locals can't imagine why their sea shouldn't be evaporating from one generation to the next. Water evaporates from the sea, cools to clouds and then rain falls on the mountains, some flows into the dessert and that never gets back to the sea. That's what their version of the water cycle looks like.”
“Where does the water go?” Albert asked.
“Some into space, some into rocks, they think. There used to be wet years, maybe from comets or vulcanism or something, but no one really knows and the last one was centuries ago. It's a Mars-like world, with Mars-like problems, only there are three sorts of tool-using life-forms. I've been asked to recruit some people who want to write a doctorate on where the water's actually going to, and the long-term habitability of the planet without intervention. Not to mention some people who want to study ecological stresses and maybe fossil collections. Some of the biologists are suggesting that the planet looks like it might be in the middle of a mass-extinction, but it's not their field, etc.”
“You're going to need another lab!” Albert exclaimed.
“There are caves, it's predator country, but the other dangers are just the normal sharp rocks and so on. We've got permission to seal it against water loss and make a collaborative research base there. Plus to farm the surrounding area if we don't want to eat hydroponic gloop.”
“Wow, that was fast! How did you get the traditionalist party to agree to that?”
“They effectively resigned from power to sort out some internal issues. New change-friendly party in power, young idealist party leader, bringing in a new way of working, even for them. Except it's actually an ancient way of working, so the traditionalist party are scratching their heads wondering what's happened to what amounts to their moral basis.”
“Sounds like fun,” Daphne said. “Shame I'll never get there.”
“Never say never,” Albert advised, “Mum might decide to let Rachel convince her we need an embassy there. I imagine survival skills are going to be as important as diplomatic if we do.”
“And you can actually breathe the air there?”
“Yes. And its got a magnetic field, so no significant storms either,” Rachel said.
“Hey, are you sure you're not reading my mind?”
“If I am, it'd be a first,” Rachel said. “I just thought to myself, this woman might have been born a jit but she surely grew out of it before she started to carry her own pack.” It was the highest Martian compliment, and given without hesitation. Rachel had remembered her host-family's comment at hearing about the film she's watched.
“I thought you two grew up rubbing shoulders?” Daphne asked.
“I spent five years growing my own with some good people called Durrell, Daphne, and also have a full bottle of original recipe thunderbolt if your tastebuds ever get that homesick.”
“Albert, lad.” Daphne said, barely keeping back her tears at this news that Rachel had lived with her childhood friends and neighbours, “if you don't treasure this girl then so help me I'll pour my last spoonful of thuderbolt in your tea to make sure you're really sorry.”
“Should I know what thunderbolt is?”
“Infidel,” Rachel accused, “Forgetful, fraud! I thought you said you'd always treasure my every letter to you!”
“When did I say that?”
“When you were twelve or so.”
“And did you write about thunderbolt?”
“I'm sure I did. I suppose I might have called it the elixir of life.”
“The one that's like gently sipping boiling tabasco from a red hot poker?”
“That's the one.” Daphne agreed, “But only if you dilute a drop of it in a glass of water first.”
“Which is a complete waste,” Rachel said. “What you need to do is open the bottle and let the rabbit sniff it. Then it begs you with pleading eyes for a swift and merciful death and the flavour is beautifully even through the meat.” Daphne laughed, “Oh that's a new one! I like it, I like it! It beats the shark one.”
“I don't think I know the shark one. How does that go?”
“I heard it from a Mer: 'the fastest way to serve shark is you light a barbecue and then put a drop of thunderbolt into the water just in front of a dangerous shark, which then leaps out of the water onto your hot barbecue to cool the heat in it's gills, and rips out it's own guts to save them from the fire in its belly.' But It lacks the realism, doesn't it?”
“I have to agree, yes.”
“Whereas a rabbit pleading to die has it?” Albert asked, earning himself a whithering look of absolute scorn from the two women. They then burst into laughter at his face.
“Come on, Albert,” Rachel said, after she'd calmed down. “You're going to tell your mother.”
“Am I allowed second thoughts?”
“Not until I've cooked you some chiie-con-root-veg, no.”
“I don't really like very hot food, Rachel.”
“Which is why you want me to cook it for you. I'll do some with and some without, so you can taste the difference and know why its so highly prized.”
“It's not just a bravado thing?”
“Wait and see, Albert, wait and see. But it might be a good idea if you ply me with what you count as pleasantly spicy first.”
“OK, I can cope with that idea.”
Albert approached his mother who looked up from her conversation with prince John. A smile formed on her face when she saw Rachel and Albert holding hands.
“Mother? I'm happy to say that you were right and I was wrong. It looks like it was a miscommunication thing.”
“I don't suppose it'll be your last. You're holding hands in public already, I see?”
“Rachel has agreed to be known and gossiped about as my girlfriend, yes.”
“And invited him to dinner with my parents' tomorrow, so hopefully the news won't get out before I've had a chance to tell them myself.”
“Maybe you ought to call them,” John said.
“Actually, it'd be far better if it wasn't public knowledge until I've finished recruiting.”
“Yes. What did you say to Daphne? I don't think I've seen her in such good spirits for a long time.”
“I lived with her childhood neighbours on Mars. I'm afraid we then mercilessly made Albert the butt of an insider-joke. But I think I've convinced him to let me cook him a meal with the locally infamous flavouring in question, which will make Albert an insider too.”
“Thunderbolt?” Ursuala asked.
“Yes, Maam.”
“Well, it's always good to broaden one's horizons, Albert. Just make sure you don't upset Rachel or knock her while she's adding it, and I predict an enjoyable meal.”
“You've had it, maam?”
“The inventor babysat my mother, Rachel. I'm definitely an insider. It was a thunderbolt-serving tip that had you in stitches?”
“Yes. Albert didn't think that a rabbit pleading for a swift death after sniffing some was realistic.”
“Then he truly deserved your scorn, the silly boy. And obviously needs to spend some more time on Mars.”
“You know that serving tip? Daphne didn't.”
“She didn't? Oh, that's an old one. But you have tasted thunderbolt, Albert. You had it properly, at the embassy, last time.”
“That tasty sauce?”
“Yes. And of course you also stuck your finger in a drip from Mum's bottle of it when you were about three, and licked it. Expect an extreme caution regarding unknown condiments from my son, Rachel.”
“You just licked undiluted thunderbolt off your finger?” Rachel asked, looking at Albert in amazement.
“I just remember it as grandma's sauce,” Albert said.
“What was it like?” Rachel asked, with morbid curiosity.
“Well... you know that rabbit? I understand now.”