Prince Bel awoke with a start, his heart pounding as he registered the sight of the assassin android standing in the doorway of his room. Two displeased guards flanked the android, their ceremonial pikes hovering millimeters from its chest. “Thank you for your devotion, guards. He is a new consultant... and obviously very zealous about his job. Please return to your duties.” When the guards were out of earshot, he asked Artee, “Did you stand there all night?”
“I needed to ensure that you did not attempt to escape.”
“Can you do it less conspicuously?” Bel dressed as he spoke, briefly noticing the lack of attendant androids shadowing his every move. “Fleeing is not an option for me. I have responsibilities I cannot abandon even when my life is imperiled. Moreover, I am sure I could not evade you for long.”
“Correct. An attempt to evade me would also nullify our agreement.”
Bel rubbed his temples to clear his brain fog. “The agreement where you grant me a one-day reprieve if I can provide a reason why I am not prepared to die.”
“Affirmative.”
Bel considered his options. “Androids are not permitted in the royal family quarters except in the performance of their duties. At night, you should stay in a service bay with the other droids.”
“If I am here under the guise of being a human consultant, would it not be ‘less conspicuous’ for me to stay in the guest quarters?”
Bel winced, irked that the android had turned his own words against him. I hate to admit it, but the droid has not been a threat to anyone else. “You may stay in a guest bedroom with one stipulation – all expenses you incur must be reimbursed.”
“I will find a room this evening. Until then, I will accompany you to your meetings–”
“The daily staff meeting!” Bel glanced at his phone and remembered it was still set to vibrate for yesterday’s ceremony. Accursed droid is going to make me late again. I need to run, or I will have to endure one of father’s lectures. With a muttered curse, Bel rushed out the door and jogged down the hallway. Artee was caught off guard and hurried after him.
Guards in ceremonial dress snapped to attention. They brandished their gleaming curved kukri machetes when Artee attempted to enter the staff meeting. Without looking backward as he passed through the doors, Bel said, “This is my security consultant Artee. Please inform him of the duties of the royal guard while I am in the meeting.”
The assassin glared at the back side of the prince. “I will wait for you here, your highness.”
* * *
When the meeting adjourned, Bel attempted to corner his father before he left the chambers. “Your majesty, I have a question about contract nullification.”
King Ajeet-mar stood, gathered his papers, and walked towards the door. “Nullification is a judicial matter. Nothing I can do. What is this in relationship to?”
“A contract that will ruin my wedding.” And the rest of my life.
The king reduced his pace but continued walking toward the chamber doors. “Bel, your mother is an expert in that area. I am sure she can handle any disagreements you have with vendors.”
Bel grabbed his father by the sleeve of his jacket. “Father, it is important I speak to you about this in private before the wedding.”
“I am running late for a flight to the Isle of Modhikat. Ever since my brother died, your cousin has proven incapable of running the territory. I have too much work to solve your problems as well. Is there anything you want me to pass on to your cousin?”
That I hope his next visit will be for my wedding and not my funeral. “Only that I look forward to seeing him at the wedding ceremony.”
“Ah yes, congratulations on your betrothal. Now I can finally put to rest your cousin’s persistent requests to name him next in line.” The king turned to his android attendant. “Add that to the itinerary,” he said, as he exited the conference room.
Having missed breakfast, Bel headed straight for the royal dining room with Artee in tow. Guards flanked the door, so Artee did not try to follow Bel. Inside, Queen Charanpa-sha was taking a tea break while reviewing the status of the multitude of wedding-related projects she was managing. She smiled at him while continuing to scroll through her datapad.
The service android placed a cup of warm tea in front of Bel. The tea was exactly as he liked it; cooled below the need to blow on it and containing half a teaspoon of dissolved honey.
Bel remained mentally consumed by his failure to discuss Artee with his father. The one time I really needed him to listen to me! He grabbed the teacup so forcefully that some tea spilled onto the table. He took a sip and then slammed the teacup onto the saucer. “Droid, this tea is too bitter. Bring me another.”
Expressionless, the service android replied, “Yes, sir.”
“No... wait.” Bel snarled, “I’m no longer in the mood for tea. Clean up this mess and then leave us.”
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The Queen lowered the cup of tea she was sipping and placed her datapad on the table. “What is wrong, son? Ask him to make you another cup.”
“It,” he emphasized, “doesn’t know how to make a proper cup of tea.”
She sat silent, watching for the telltale signs that his aggravation had dissipated. “You are spouting contractions like a commoner, so you are clearly upset about something. A perfectly made cup of tea is not the reason. What is really bothering you?”
“I wish we had humans to handle food preparation. Droids are incapable of understanding the subtleties of taste and flavor.”
“You know the colony charter forbids putting humans into a state of menial servitude. Your deep-seated resentment of androids is no excuse to take out your frustrations on them. I think you are stressed about the wedding, which is only natural.”
“Not at all, after the ceremony yesterday I can hardly wait for the wedding. I’m... I AM worried about the future.”
“What for? Lady Nordhi loves you very much. You will have a long and happy life together.”
“How can you be so certain? What if..” What if I get assassinated after the wedding? Is what he wanted to say. “What if something were to happen to me? What would her future look like?”
The queen beamed at her son. “Such a wonderful husband you will be. Already worrying about her future well-being. Speaking of the ceremony, this morning I called the Duchess to apologize for not being able to attend. She says it was a beautiful ceremony with the exception of a droid that malfunctioned and spilled drinks on you.”
“Malfunctioned. Hmmph. The antiquated thing broke down. I offered to replace it with a new model. If we are forced to rely on droids, they should at least be reliable and obedient.”
The queen adopted the tone all mothers employ to coax stubborn children into changing their minds. “She mentioned that and asked if you could instead have the old droid repaired. He has served them for many years. They are fond of him and think of him as family.”
Bel’s head snapped up as he spat out, “Fond of it? droids are tools like any other. You don’t grow emotionally attached to them any more than you would to– a garden tool!”
“You are so much like your father. Believing there are limits on the amount of love and kindness you can share with the world.”
I am not like him! Bel paused to calm himself before responding. “I have boundless love for Nordhi and my family. I care deeply about the people around me. However, I draw the line at droids, and you know why.”
The queen’s voice rose to match his. “You were a child, and we had a colony to rebuild!” She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a cloth napkin to cover for her loss of decorum. “Besides, you grew up fine.”
“That does not excuse your lack of involvement. Some things are too important to delegate to machines. Like raising a child.” Or killing a rival.
“People cherish their droids as much as they do any family member. Until you can get over your hatred for androids, you will never appreciate their vital role in society.”
He exhaled and forced a smile. “While I disagree about their place in society, if it makes my mother and future mother-in-law happy, I will have the droid repaired.”
Charanpa-sha smiled in admiration. “You have your father’s spirit when he was your age. But you are wiser than he was. It took him forever to learn to heed my counsel.” The queen stood to leave and made a parting remark. “Make sure to have your clothes from last night cleaned before the stains set.”
Bel left the dining room and carried on with his daily routine, but only after tasking a service android to clean his laundry. Artee followed him the entire day. Bel struggled to suppress a grin when going into rooms where the android could not follow.
Late in the afternoon, as they were walking to the dining hall, Artee pulled Bel into an empty room and pressed him against a wall, finger gun exposed. “Prince Bel, son of Ajeet-mar, I have been contracted to assassinate you. The one-day extension I granted you has expired. Prepare to die.”
Bel froze, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. I should call out to the guards. No, they’re ceremonial and it would shoot me before I finished speaking. Wait, what did I say yesterday to make it stop? Staring at the gun barrel, he choked out, “How long do I have?”
Faced with the same logic conundrum, the android repeated, “How long do you need?”
The prince let out the breath he was holding. “I promised Lady Nordhi’s parents, and my mother, that I would personally ensure their favorite droid is repaired. That will require another day.”
“I recall you making that promise.” The assassin stared back at Bel with cold, unfeeling eyes. “I will give you another day to arrange for the repairs. Then I must carry out your assassination.” The Artee persona returned, and he released the prince. “I ran a query for android repair services. The manager of the royal estate’s android maintenance team is a master certified technician.”
Bel wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened his jacket. “Really? Sounds like someone I, uh, should talk to.”
After a quick dinner, they hustled to the android maintenance center located in an outbuilding. The manager was leaving for the day, but agreed to follow them to Nordhi’s home in the morning.
* * *
The next morning, Bel found Artee waiting outside of his bedroom again. Bel strode past the assassin and toward the dining hall. As he turned a corner, he spotted his mother approaching from the hallway leading to the royal chambers.
“Good morning, son.”
“Mother.”
Queen Charanpa-sha smiled politely at Artee. “Will you and Artee be joining me for breakfast?”
“Artee has other matters to attend to, but I can join you, mother.”
The queen slipped her arm under Bel’s, compelling him into escorting her down the hallway. She spoke in her ever-present undertone of chastisement. “Nonsense, Artee is a guest and should enjoy a good breakfast before you send him off on errands.”
Bel clenched his teeth. It is not a guest. It is an assassin droid sent to kill me! He regained his composure and replied, “You are right, mother. Artee, would you care to join us for breakfast?”
Adroitly comprehending the undertone, Artee replied without missing a beat, “Thank you, sir, but I typically skip breakfast and as you said, I have pressing security business to attend to. Much to do before the wedding.” Artee politely bowed, turned around, and walked away. At the first hallway intersection, he ducked into an empty room where he could eavesdrop on the conversation.
The queen smiled as Artee walked away. “Such an industrious young man. You really should treat him kinder.”
Bel’s jaw tightened, his words carefully measured. “He’s a consultant here to do a job.” One he’d kill us both for if I told her the truth. He gave her a thin smile. “But I shall consider your wise counsel.”
His mother brightened at the compliment. “Well, at least inform him that even though we are royalty there is no reason to walk three paces behind like a subservient droid. Never forget that our position is a privilege.” She continued with the political statements he’d heard since childhood. “We are here to serve the people and not to be served by the people. We are functionaries with a symbolic duty to provide a sense of security through traditions we brought with us from Earth.”
Artee is a murderous droid hired by one of the ‘people.’ Lengthening his stride to pull his mother along, he replied, “Yes, mother. Can we please move this conversation to the dining room? I am famished.”