Brand Gamblin's Blog, page 2

Invito Rex – Chapter 13

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It was dame Abigail Kovacs who made the first Kovacs engine, of course. The project was begun in the summer of 2070, with no more than a team of engineers, and plans for a self-contained engine. When asked about it, she told the world bluntly, “I want my house to fly.”

Newsies took interest initially for the humor, but when her first self-sustaining engine was revealed at Her Majesties Symposium on Scientific Works (MSSW73), the laughter ceased. The engine appeared to all attending as a tall, thick cylinder, with fusion generators, wind turbines, and solar collectors wrapped around it. The central cylinder sucked air in from the ventral ports, and out through the dorsal ports. It was little more than a directionless jet engine, but it shocked the world because it could run for a hundred years without maintenance, and could hold twice its weight in ballast. Her first major demonstration involved “The house that would never touch the ground.” Several of her engines were mounted to the perimeter of a platform. Upon that platform, a simple house was built. Again she made the news, with pictures of her beaming face and a flying house hovering over a field of Kansas City wheat. There is simply no way of saying this without employing some form of vulgar pun. Sales of her engines took off.

Citizens replaced their stilt houses with Kovacs. They built lake houses which hovered over the lakes. The engines were still remarkably expensive, but given their longevity, they were assumed to be sound investments to all. With the sudden influx of cash, Abigail was able to build on her platform, extend it to allow the addition of other buildings, and improve upon the engine’s design. In 2079, Abigail announced the first Kovacs-powered city, with a population of only two-hundred. The platforms held shops and restaurants, hydroponic gardens and homes, and every hotel had a view of the wide expanse of land around them.

By then, the government was ready to take her seriously. They started investigations into zoning and airline regulations. Environmentalists questioned whether she was affecting the jet stream, and what damage could be done by constantly blasting air down on a countryside. An outpouring of public support coupled with her impressive legal team managed to keep regulations from shutting her city down, but she was never one to wait on others for permission.

In 2085, Abigail Kovacs had engines mounted at a 45-degree angle along every edge of her city’s platform. A year later, when construction was finished, she flew the city out over the ocean, to uncontested land, where no government could touch them. By that time, the city had grown to more than five-thousand people, and they all stood behind Abigail and her dream. She was still in litigation with the mainland of America when the Western War started.

In 2117, when the economic meltdown dissolved most major nations, the Kovacs city remained largely untouched. It seemed an unintended blessing that the city had become self-sufficient, and able to survive a devaluation of all terrestrial currency. However, as family members were brought on board, saving them from the hunger and homelessness of the mainland, they brought with them their prejudices. Every nation who had been fighting with sanctions and devaluation brought their hatred for the other nations that had devalued their own money. Each saw their neighbor as a tyrant, trying to pull them into slavery.

Many say it was a blessing that Abigail died in 2120. She did not live to see her dream literally torn apart by imported nationalism. The city was torn by looters, rioting, and infighting. People disconnected sections of the platform, announcing that they were keeping their section “pure”. One section was disconnected from too many other engines and dropped into the ocean, killing hundreds.

By 2125, the Kovacs city was reduced to a series of city-states that moved to remote sections of the world. Some continued to grow, becoming important financial centers in themselves (The New Chicago Kovacs, for instance, is considered a tax haven for the most affluent), while others have specialized in agriculture (The Bremen Kovacs is well known for it’s fifteen layers of hydroponic crops, hovering off the Western shore of Dakhla).

Many of the rich and famous still purchase Kovacs engines for floating homes, but the stories of whole flying cities is generally discounted as a logistical impossibility from our distant past.

- Excerpt from “Man and his sky” by Cary Stefanek

Dizzy stood in the center of his office, and watched Olivia walk away. He muttered, “What is going on there?”

Astor sneered, “Let’s just say she doesn’t love her family enough.”

Dizzy turned and grinned at him, “There are times, Astor, when I could knock that sneer right off your face, and I don’t even know why. Seriously, I don’t even understand what you’re talking about, and I’m still ready to put you on the ground.”

Astor fumed, “I’d like-”

“No, you really wouldn’t like to see me try it. Aside from the fact that I probably could paste you one, there’s also the lingering fear in your eyes of what would happen if you raised a hand in anger to your king.” Dizzy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He turned to Jus Cos and said, “Well, what do you think of them?”

“Buncha whiny, privileged warmongers. They send men off to die, then get teary over some animal.”

Dizzy frowned, “How many men?”

Justin blinked at him, “Dunno. All of ‘em.”

“No. I mean, how many are dying? I can probably get those numbers, but I suppose you can just rattle them off from memory.”

“Nah. Media blackout keeps the plebes in the dark.”

“But surely there are funerals. There must be wailing widows.”

“It ain’t proper, mockin’ the grief.”

“You really don’t know, do you? Can you name a single dead soldier?”

“Yeah.” Justin scowled down at the ground, “Yeah. I know a couple.”

Dizzy crossed his arms over his chest, “A couple. That’s all you know?”

Astor sighed, “Are we done here?”

Justin took a step toward Astor, hands balled into fists. Astor smiled, “Oh, yes. Please do.”

Dizzy stepped between them and said, “Don’t.”

Jus scowled at him, eyes blazing, “Why not? You may be untouchable, but he’s just a stupid lordling.” Jus looked over Dizzy’s shoulder at Astor, “Do you have any idea how much I’d love to literally strike a blow to you nobs?”

Dizzy ran a hand through his hair, “You’ve got a left hook, he’s got an entire security regiment. You won’t win.” Dizzy leaned in, “By the way, your accent’s slipping again. Why do you bother with it?”

Jus sighed, “Gotta stay relevant. Wanna be the people’s voice, gotta learn the people’s speech, sabe?”

Astor sighed, “Seriously, are we done chatting with the scum?”

Dizzy turned on him, “You have somewhere you need to be?”

“We both do. We’re expected to go hunting today with the Schuberts.”

Dizzy’s lip curled, “Hunting?”

“Yes. They’re lower nobles serving Lord Wilde. I wouldn’t have thought you needed to shore up your position with that family, but after today’s debacle, it looks like a piece of serendipity.”

Dizzy grinned, “You don’t think that was a good move? I managed to get rid of a favor owed to the old buzzard.”

“Yes, but you traded it for a vendetta from that beast of a man. It wasn’t a good trade.”

Dizzy waved it off, “I’ll make it up to him.”

Astor stepped closer to him, “No. You may not have time.”

Dizzy frowned, “What do you mean?”

“No one tells a higher lord what to do. They work with the king to keep the peace between families, but if they can’t work with the king…”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed, “If they can’t, then what?”

Astor looked over at Jus, then back at Dizzy. He cleared his throat, “Nothing, my liege. It’s just- Look, I’m only saying this for your benefit. I mean, I have no great love for you, but-”

“Your resentment for the king is well documented, sir. Now tell me, what happens if they can’t work with the king.”

Jus barked a laugh, “Ain’t it obvious? Warmongers only think in terms of allies and corpses.”

Astor shrunk back. He shrugged and said, “Well, many kings find that their reign is shorter than they’d like.”

Dizzy sighed and looked back at Jus, “You see what I have to deal with? Now I give this man a gun and we go riding.”

—

Dizzy tried not to worry. The sultry woods were quiet and still. Humidity swaddled the trees like a sodden blanket, heating the air. Fir trees circling the copse of woods left a dense carpet of pine needles underfoot. Two or three small birds timorously tried to break the swelter with song.

And then the breeze. The air swept up from the small river just south of the forested hill, bringing with it a breath of relief. Broadleaf trees sang as coolness swept through the old growth, toward the center of the woods. The larger birds began to stir and flew above the canopy to the river. And as the air stirred, the clouds swept in, giving relief from the punishing heat of the sun.

Today’s quarry was hyena. Normally a nocturnal animal, these were given lots of cover, but no food at night. The Schubert’s had spared no expense ensuring that the group would be able to find and bag one of the vicious animals.

Dizzy wore jodhpurs, and held a gun, but had none of the spirit of the hunt. Hyenas moved quickly, so whenever the group saw movement, they would spur their horses into quick pursuit. Dizzy stayed back, letting the rest of them pursue the quarry. Justin stayed with him, having similar tastes for the hunt. He acted as petulant and uncomfortable as Dizzy felt.

Dizzy watched him as the pack took off after another loping scavenger. He asked Jus, “Why did you give yourself up?”

The younger boy started, “Wozzat?”

“Why did you surrender yourself to the police?”

Jus shrugged, “Somebody’s gotta stand up.”

“But you’ve been fighting this fight for years. Why make such a big demonstration now? Is there a media blitz waiting for your incarceration?”

“Nah. Nothing like that.”

“You were lucky to have been brought before me. If you were handled by the magistrate, you’d have been summarily executed.”

Jus frowned and looked back at the pack of noblemen, “S’pose so.”

Dizzy laced the reins of his horse around one hand, then pulled it free. He frowned at Jus, who refused to meet his eye, “So, you expected to get killed. Was it some kind of martyrdom? Suicide by cop?”

Jus spurred his horse into walking. Dizzy thought about calling him on the temerity of walking away from the king. Instead, he followed Justin, “Why did you decide to martyr yourself now? Why not a year ago, or a year from now. What changed?”

Jus scowled at him, “Ya can hold me if ya want, but I won’t be grilled.”

Their horses ambled for a moment longer, as Dizzy looked through the treeline, searching for the others. He turned back to Jus, “You said you knew a couple of soldiers-”

“God damn it!” Jus roared, “You want it all? Well, I don’t have to answer you! I don’t answer to killers! I’m not going to let you use my brother’s-” Jus’ mouth snapped shut as he caught himself.

Distant guards turned to face them, but Dizzy held them back with a gesture, “Your brother?”

Jus glared at Dizzy, and looked like he was ready to bolt. Then, just as suddenly, he deflated, “Got the news last week. My brother was proud to serve. He was always disgusted by what I did, but…” He waited, as though hoping for another interruption. Eventually, he shook his head, “I was just trying to get him home before it happened.”

Dizzy nodded, “I’m so sorry.” Jus’ head shot up, but Dizzy held out a restraining hand again, “I really am.” He took a deep breath, and said, “I know it won’t mean much to you – another promise from another nobleman – but I am doing what I can to end this.”

Before Jus could answer, Astor rode up to them. He glared at Jus, and looked back at Dizzy, “Is everything all right, my liege?”

Dizzy nodded, “Yes, we’re fine. Go on back to your game.”

Astor smiled, “What’s wrong, sir? No stomach for the hunt? These are vicious predators, you know.”

Dizzy frowned, “I thought they were scavengers.”

Astor shrugged, “They’ll kill when they want to eat. Besides, if you don’t want to kill one, you can still go for the capture.”

Dizzy leaned back in his saddle, and said, “Listen, both of your. I think I’m being followed.”

“What?” Astor looked around them, standing in the stirrups. Dizzy groaned, “Thank you so much for being subtle about that.” Justin chuckled at them both.

“I don’t see anyone.”

“Nor do I, but I keep seeing some movement out of the corner of my eye. I feel stupid even mentioning it.”

“Maybe it’s one of the brutes?”

“I doubt it. Whatever it is, it’s pacing us. It’s been with us for most of the day.”

Astor shrugged, “It’s probably your nerves then.” He grinned at Dizzy, “You know, I just realized, you should have asked your friends from the press out here. They’d love to see this.”

Dizzy looked back at Jus, “With people writing songs about how we hunt while men die, I don’t think it’s quite the image I want to get across.”

Justin rolled his eyes and looked away. Astor shook his head, “A king shouldn’t worry about his image. It should come naturally, and everyone should just have to accept it.”

The rest of the hunting party caught up with them again. “You missed it! Wendell bagged a big one!” They pointed at the youngest of the group.

Dizzy smiled at the young man, “Congratulations. You must be very proud.” The boy beamed with pleasure at the praise.

Astor frowned at the young man, looking between him and Dizzy. He shouted, “I’ll get the next one!” and took off into the woods. Dizzy sat shaking his head at the lordling.

True to form, the others dashed off after him, and just as they did so, Dizzy saw the shape in the forest move to intercept them. He didn’t bother looking at it this time, but spurred his horse on toward the movement. He galloped straight into the treeline, not worrying about seeing his quarry, but turning every time he saw it’s movements. Branches tore at his hair and clothes, but Dizzy leaned down to put his head against the horse’s neck, and spurred the animal on. Each time he saw it move, Dizzy turned to intercept.

The creature was fast, but the king’s horse was a beast of incredible breeding and training. It leaped easily over bushes and branches, tore into greenery that blocked him, and followed Dizzy’s every instruction.

But despite the highborn steed’s immense strength and speed, the quarry faded away. He simply couldn’t see it moving any more. Dizzy reined in his beast and sat panting in the saddle. His mount was lathered and shivering with exertion. Dizzy stood up in the saddle, casting about to see if he had just missed it.

He frowned and sat down hard in the saddle, “Dammit.” He stroked the horse’s flank, “Must be a mechanical. I’m fairly certain no flesh-and-blood creature could best you.” The horse chuffed and pawed at the ground, as though ready for the next run.

Dizzy grinned, and looked around, trying to get his bearings. At some point, he had become so intent on the pursuit that he lost track of where he was. Dizzy wheeled the horse around in preparation for their return when the tree next to him burst open in a cloud of splinters and chaff.

Dizzy ducked instinctively, then looked back at the tree. Smoke was issuing from a hole in the tree just inches away from where his head had been. He dropped low against the horse and hissed, “Sceptre?”

“High velocity projectile. Shot came from the northeast. Likely a rifle based on the time from report to striking.”

“Who?”

“Too far away. You should get to safety, my liege.”

Dizzy turned his mount around, “Northeast?”

“I wouldn’t advise it, sir.”

Dizzy spurred his mount into a run. Again, the horse ran at an astonishing speed, undistracted by the surrounding flora. They ran true and broke out of the treeline to see the rest of the hunting party standing around.

Dizzy stared at them, and they all stared back. Most of the lower nobility blinked at him, shocked. Astor seemed unsurprised, and Justin just sat quietly, watching him.

He was still panting as he said, “Who just fired?”

Astor answered, “When, my lord?”

“Just now. Back that way.”

Astor shook his head, “Nothing that way, my liege. We were hunting to the East. We’d just returned when we realized you hadn’t joined us. I heard the report, but assumed it was you shooting.”

Dizzy looked back at Justin, who was still wearing the angry expression he’d had when Dizzy left. Dizzy looked at the gun still cradled in the crook of his arm. Could it have been Justin, as revenge for his brother? Or Astor, in the hopes of his father’s ascension? He looked at the minor nobles, who all seemed uncomfortable just being there. Any of them could have been a hired gun, bought by Dunem, or even Lord Wilde.

“Were you all together just now?”

Wendell spoke up, “Yes, my lord. Well, most of us. It got a little confused when we spotted the quarry.”

The king raised a hand and asked again, “Who was there? Who wasn’t?” Dizzy could hear the impatience in his voice.

The lower nobility all started pointing at each other, muttering and trying to reconstruct the last sortie. Justin’s eyes narrowed, “Why the questions? You see something that spooked you?”

Dizzy frowned at him, “Didn’t you hear the gunshot?”

Justin shrugged, “Just these moo-brains, lettin’ off in hopes of impressin’ you with their kills.” He nodded at the lower nobility, “That how you work, then? You get jollies off death?”

Dizzy waved him off, “Not now. You seriously didn’t hear anything.”

Astor blinked at him, uncomprehending, “I seriously didn’t hear anything.”

Stan poked at a wrapper, expertly spearing it on his pointed stick, “You have to admit, it’s a lovely day for it.”

Lou fumbled with a can, poking at it over and over, but never snagging, “Lawks yes. Lovely. Kind of day one aught to be out of doors.”

“Truly.” A shot rang out over their heads, and they looked at each other suddenly, “Can’t say I’m enjoying the birdsong, though.”

Lou screwed up his forehead and concentrated on the can sitting two feet away from him, “Never was much for hunting, myself.”

Stan twirled his stick around his wrist, landing it expertly into the trash bag on his hip, “What of the king? Do you think he enjoys the hunt?”

Lou shrugged a bit, “S’pose he must, if he rides along.”

“I wonder, will he go for the canary or the cub?”

Lou looked away from his target to frown at Stan, “I should think the yellow lady would make the better Queen, but I don’t think she’s game.”

“No, but these days, the bear girl’s claws are out.”

“Ah, so the king is left at razor’s edge. Two choices, neither interested.”

“Not just the two. There’s a slav in the wings, if tales be true. Widowed before she was wed, I believe?”

“Russians. More bears. Well, I doubt the new king has any taste for that treat.” Lou took another stab at the can, which rolled lazily out of the way, “Is he even prowling?”

“He’d best be. Homeland needs an heir. Near collapsed at the last untimely.”

“Truth. And not exactly endearing himself to them what would make another untimely. Have you heard of the king’s deal?”

“I had it from the maid that he’s paying the lizard by stealing from the bear.”

Lou put one foot down carefully on the side of the can, holding it in place. “I’m sure the new king had naught but best intentions.” He stabbed at the can with the point of his stick, and pierced his foot. Lou held perfectly still as he let out a “meep” of pain.

Stan looked over at him, and pulled the stick out, “It would seem, my duck, that even good intentions can bite a kindly soul.”

Somehow, Dizzy knew he would find Lord Dunem in his secret office. He strode into the small room, and pointed a finger at the chief of staff, “Where were the guards?”

The old man blinked down at him, “When?”

“Just now.” Dizzy waved a hand toward the veranda, “Out there. Hunting.”

“You were on royal grounds. You were never outside the perimeter. It would make the king look weak to have guards escorting him through his own palace. We keep guards on some doors inside the palace mainly as a ceremonial position or to protect the privacy of your rooms.”

Dizzy frowned at him for a long moment, seeing the truth of it. He thought about how far to trust the chief of staff, then said, “Someone shot at me. I don’t know who, but it was no accident.”

Dunem’s eyes didn’t widen in shock. He didn’t ask if Dizzy was okay. He walked directly to the door, one hand touching the outer edge of his monocle, “I am in the King’s chamber. I want two guards from two different regiments here in the next two minutes. Tell General Elling we are moving to status level three.” Dizzy could see from the reflection on the old man’s monocle that he was speaking to several different people at the same time. “I want military investigators here now. Detain everyone who had access to the royal preserve. Sequester each of the men who were traveling in the King’s hunting party.”

Dizzy fell into the chair as Lord Dunem paced in front of his desk, “Let none of them speak to the others. I need investigators on each of them. Get me a full statement from each. I need inventory on their weapons, and match ballistics to any animals shot. Any missed shots need to be tracked to determine if any of their guns were used as the attempted murder weapon. What? Now. Yes. All of it. There has been an attempt on the king’s life. If I read about this before tomorrow, I will know it was one of you who leaked it. Now go.”

He turned back to Dizzy, his glowing monocle dimmed to its usual level of inactivity, “Now tell me, your majesty, how are you?”

Dizzy grinned a bit, “Now? After all that, you’re going to ask me now? I could have bled out waiting for you to notice.”

The old man stood up straighter, fingers laced behind his back, “You weren’t bleeding when you walked in, and you were shouting about guards. From that, I deduced that you were feeling well enough to complain, which meant you hadn’t taken any grievous injury, and were not overcome with shock.” He walked around the desk to look closer at Dizzy, “So now, let me ask again, how are you?”

Dizzy shrugged, “I don’t – I mean, I’m fine. What do you mean?”

Dunem took a deep breath and stared at him, “A man just tried to shoot you. You’ve only been king for a few days, and someone hates you enough to kill you. You have friends and loved ones who would be ripped away from you by an assassin’s bullet. Any future dreams of home or family that you may have had were set aside by someone who felt that their wishes were more important than anything you may ever want or need. Someone invaded your home, they hunted you down in the place where you should be the most safe, and they shot at you. What’s more, you don’t know who did it, so you can’t be sure that they’re gone. You can’t trust anyone, and you have to live under a roof with dozens of people you can no longer trust. So once more I’ll ask you. How are you?”

Dizzy blinked back at him, “Well, I’ll admit, I was feeling a damn sight better before you put it like that.”

“How is your body handling it? Any shaking, dizziness, shortness of breath?”

Dizzy frowned, “No. No, I feel fine.”

Lord Dunem nodded, “Then it hasn’t hit you yet. It will soon. You should retire for the night.”

“It’s only six o’clock!”

“I’ll have the doctor give you something to sleep.”

“What about the concert! Tonight’s Jus Cos’ concert.”

“We will postpone, sir. All the preparations will be in place.”

“You got us a Kovacs for the venue?”

“Yes sir. The miscreant’s band have been brought in by hopper, and they are already set up. I’ve ensured that all of the upper nobility know about the concert.”

“And the commoners? They’ll be there too?”

Dunem sniffed, “If they can afford airfare up there, then yes.” He took a deep breath, “My liege, the investigator will want to talk to you before too much time passes.”

Dizzy raised his hands, palms out, “Really, that’s not necessary. I mean, it’s not…”

The old man raised one eyebrow, “Not that important? I believe that is the shock speaking. The nation nearly lost its second regent in a week. That matters to us. You’ll find that we investigate all threats on the king’s life. No offense, your majesty, but you have just been a witness to a major imperial crime. We will, of course, attempt to make it as easy on you as possible, but you are currently our best witness.” He gestured at the door of the office, “If you would give us just an hour of your time, my liege.”

As Dizzy was leaving the office, a whole group burst into the king’s bedroom. Four guards, a doctor, a military investigator, and his assistant. The doctor got to him first, shining a light in his eyes, prodding his whole body for injuries, bruises, or unexplained marks. She held his neck for a moment, counting to herself, then let him go without a word. She wrapped a thin cord around his bicep, then held one eye open. The cord changed color, going from black to red, then settled on a soft green. She ripped the cord off his arm and started making notes on a smartboard as the investigator walked up to him.

The investigator was a barrel-chested bald man, wearing a fine suit. His assistant was a nebbish little man, burdened with tools, books, and papers. The investigator shook his hand, “Your majesty, it’s an honor to meet you.” His voice was soft and smooth, comforting and warm. He lead Dizzy over to the bed, “If you could just have a seat, I had one or two questions I’d like to ask.”

Dizzy nodded, “Yes. Yes, of course. Fire away.” He thought he could catch the investigator off balance with the joke, but the man only smiled warmly.

“Why didn’t you fire back?” Dizzy blinked at him, so he asked again, “When they shot at you, why didn’t you fire back? You had a weapon, didn’t you?”

“Of course, but, well, it just didn’t occur to me.”

“I see. It’s perfectly natural to want to run away in a situation like that.”

Dizzy straightened, “I didn’t run away. In fact, I turned in the direction of the shot and took off after them.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, to catch them, of course!” Dizzy couldn’t understand this line of questioning. It seemed so obvious when he was doing it.

“So, you had a weapon, and you were faced with someone who was armed and dangerous. You didn’t flee, but you didn’t fire on them either. What were you planning to do when you caught up with them?”

Dizzy took a long moment to answer, “I guess. I guess I thought I’d reveal who they were. I was more curious than scared, I suppose.” Looking back on it, he felt like a fool. He frowned at the investigator, “Where are you going with these questions?”

The man smiled, “I just want to put you back in the moment. Now that you’re in the moment, tell me, why didn’t the shot kill you?”

The young woman refused to sit at the table in the small, grubby room. She was dressed in white, from her cap and veil down to her petticoat and shoes. Fine silk gloves clutched the small coinpurse she held in front of her. The gloves ran all the way up to tuck under the sleeves of her sleek white dress. The dress was a classic style, but the lines were sharp and fashionable. Vestigial buttons ran down the sides of the dress, halting at the ruffled belted center. Behind the veil her blue eyes were wide and frightened. She stood as close to the center of the room as she could without touching the table or chairs.

The interrogation room was old and scarred. The dirty white walls had grown yellow with nicotine residue and evaporated sweat. Brown stains marred the walls at about shoulder height. One wall was a darkened mirror, showing nothing but the frightened girl and the worn, hardwood table. Initials had been carved into the table, as well as stab marks and toothmarks. One inscription read, “Last Stop.” Below the table, a chain was bolted to the floor, with a pair of disabled handcuffs piled onto the chain. The table was dark brown and the seat opposite the mirror was stained with the same blood-brown color that was on the walls.

The young woman looked down at the table, and at the hard, heavy chair sitting in front of it. It was gnarled and twisted from attempts to wrench it apart or whittle into it’s arms. The seat of the chair was stained as well, and smelled vaguely of transients.

As Captain Gallant Trumble entered, he nodded at the young lady, “Sorry for the accommodations, miss, but I’m afraid this is some nasty business we have to discuss.”

She blinked at him and nodded, “Yes, ah. Yes sir.”

“Captain.” He sat with his back to the mirror, “Have a seat, won’t you?”

She nodded kindly to him, “Thank you very much, but I’d prefer to stand.”

“That’s fine.”

She held a dainty hand out to him, “You must understand, it’s not a personal thing. I have nothing less than the highest regard for the working classes.”

Trumble sat back in his chair, raising one eyebrow, “I’m not sure I take your meaning, miss.”

She backpedaled, literally, “I only meant that it wasn’t because of you. It’s just.” She waved a fluttering hand at the seat, “I just couldn’t possibly sit on that. My tailor would have me flayed.”

Trumble grinned, “Have it your way, miss.” He opened up the folder he’d brought in, “Now, how much do you know about a group called ‘The Silks’?”

She shook her head, still gripping the purse, “Oh, very little indeed. They’re something of a fascination among my girlfriends, but I pay little attention to such chatter.”

Trumble asked, “And what do your girlfriends say about them?”

“Oh, they’re the most monstrously good detectives, sir. I’ve heard they can spot an adulterer by his walk, or by his shoes or something of that sort.”

“And impersonators?”

She blinked, “Impersonators?”

“People who impersonate the nobility.”

She laughed easily, a delicate tinkling sound. She covered her mouth with one hand, “I’m sure I’ve never heard anything of that sort. I mean, the Silks may be legend, but noble impersonators are just ghost stories.”

“So you’ve never seen either? Silks or impersonators?”

The young woman brought herself up imperiously, though her fear of the police seemed to keep her from turning haughty, “I’m sure I would never associate with anyone who knew such a person.” Trumble waited as she turned away for a moment, then turned back, a bit of an excited gleam in her eye, “Don’t get me wrong, it would be deliciously exciting to actually meet one of the Silks, but I’m sure I’ve never seen one of them.”

Captain Trumble frowned down at his manila envelope, “You don’t know the Silks and you don’t know about any noble impersonators. So tell me, does the name Vincent Veevers mean anything to you?”

She shook her head, “Well, one does meet so many people. Of course I couldn’t be absolutely certain, but I would think I’d remember such a name.”

“What about Martin Ashton?”

She shook her head mutely. He sighed and said, “How about Disraeli Augustus McCracken the third?”

She tittered again, “Oh, my. The king? I’m sure I’ve never met the king before.”

Trumble leaned forward, rubbing his chin. He wondered vaguely if his source was just playing him, saying this girl could help him find some history on the Veevers boy.

The young lady leaned forward slightly to catch his gaze, “If that’s all, may I go?”

Trumble’s mind raced. This was his last chance. The trail ended here. Everything pointed to this girl who honestly didn’t seem to know anything. If he let her go, it was over. “No, miss. I’m afraid I’m going to need to hold you over for the evening. Tomorrow, I’ll present you to the magistrate and you can explain to him why you aren’t giving us anything.”

She blinked at him, “The magistrate? Why, that would be Magistrate Avery for this district, wouldn’t it?”

“Uh, yes.” Trumble had never met the man before, but he knew the name well enough.

She waved a hand at him and pulled a com out of her tiny bag, “Oh, well let me call him for you. He’s a dear friend of my father. They play darts most evenings. I’m sure we can handle this quickly.” A little crease formed on her forehead as she looked at the projected contacts screen, “It is after work hours, but I can just call his home.”

Captain Trumble shot up to his feet, reaching for the com, “That’s not necessary. You have a trusting face.” He smiled uneasily, his forehead sweating, “If you say you don’t know, then you don’t know.”

She blinked at him innocently, “Are you sure? It would only be a moment. I’m sure he’ll understand once I tell him that I’m in police custody.”

Trumble could feel his social aspirations slipping away,“No, no. That’s fine. I’m sure it’s not worth worrying him. Please. I insist.”

The door banged open and the large figure of Sir Bedragare pushed through the frame. The young woman’s face drained and she crumpled into the chair, “Ordure.” The unused com dropped to the table and shut itself.

The large man turned his sightless eyes on the girl, grinning, “Language, my lamb. Now we have played our games. That time is past. Now we come to the time of truths.”

The young woman threw her purse on the table and leaned back against the chair, “Of all the people in all the world…”

The large man took a step closer to her, wagging his finger, “You don’t know how long Bedragare looks for you, little lamb.”

“Well you have me now, you sightless maggot. What’s it going to be? Thumbscrews and hot iron brands?”

Captain Trumble blinked, looking from one of them to the other, then sputtered, “N-no! I just- We want answers. What do you know about the Silks?”

She looked at Bedragare, “What do I get?”

The man held two huge hands open, “One can only say what you will get if you don’t.” Her eyes widened a bit as her imagination took hold.

Trumble leaned in, “The Silks? You know something about them?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m second in command of the Silks. Next question.”

“Ah- uh, what about noble impersonators?”

Her head rose with pride, “I’ve taken four out myself. Not a record, but still pretty good for my age.”

“You- you’ve taken down? Who?”

“Nobody you’d know.”

Bedragare made no move, so Trumble stood and pointed at her, “Now listen, missy-”

“Sit down.” She looked at him with cold, dead eyes. Trumble sat before he realized he’d done it. She sneered, “Everyone I’ve caught is now dead. So if you’re thinking of collaring them, you should get back to your questions.”

Trumble nodded, looked down at his folder, and thought about taking notes. He didn’t have a pen. He looked back up at her, “Disraeli Augustus -”

“The white whale.” She interrupted him, “Yeah, we’ve been looking for him longer than you have. I mean, he’s so damned obvious, it was insulting that we still hadn’t caught him.” One hand curled into a fist, “and now he’s untouchable.”

“Maybe not.” Trumble leaned forward.

“You’re going to take down a king?”

“I’m going to take down a man. If I can get him to abdicate in shame, then he’s mine.”

Her beautiful eyes narrowed behind the veil, “What would he be ashamed of?”

“That’s what I’m hoping you can help me find out. Now first,” He found his pen inside the folder, and touched it to the paper, “I need to know everywhere he’s been. More importantly, I need to know about every time he’s disappeared.”

No Morning Walk today

Y’know, it’s funny. Just yesterday, I left two unintentional foreshadowing clues in the Morning Walk. The first one was when I coughed and said, “Boy, I hope I’m not coming down with something.” The second one was later when, in my hubris, I talked about how I would not let myself stop doing the Morning Walk. I said that external forces like extreme weather or illness might knock me out of commission for a little while, but that I would not let anything else get in my way.

And like all great hubris stories, I was proved wrong in the most obvious of ways. I came down with something fast, painful, and powerful. I spent most of yesterday napping (though, in my defense, when I was awake, I recorded audio). Last night, when my wife saw me tottering downstairs, gripping the handrail, she said to me:

Allie: You’re not going on your walk tomorrow.

Me: It’s not so bad. I may be moving a little slow, but I can still walk.

Allie: You need your sleep. You’re not going walking.

Me: Well, maybe I could-

Allie: I will hide your shoes if I have to.

So, yeah. I’m sure the dogs are disappointed, and even as I sit here, bleary and disoriented, I still feel like I failed. But like Nathan always says on his walks, “Tomorrow is another day. And with any luck at all, I’ll talk to you then.”

Invito Rex – Chapter 12

You can find the audio version here

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The house of Oldham has stood for centuries, since before the fall of the United Economies. It is said that their noble line reaches back to the Hearst family of old, though such records are lost to antiquity. What is known is that, from the very beginning, the Oldham family has been strong in business above all other pursuits. They have never concentrated on the ownership of land, although many in the family have been acclaimed for their ability to “flip” properties. They have never concentrated on production, except where such production could be profitably liquidated in favor of newer technologies. They have dabbled in futures, but never accumulated financial position in any one field. They own many companies, but almost all are based in short-term service agreements. The Oldham family clearly has interest in accumulation of wealth alone.

Through the years, there have been children who strayed from the family’s main interest. These outcasts, for outcasts they truly are, are treated well. They are, however removed and forgotten from all family pursuits. If a child insists on a career in politics, art, or science, they are given a decent living stipend, a place to live, and the promise that no one in the family will stand in their way. Implicit in that promise is the statement that no one in the family will help them, which has been a detriment to many members of the Oldham family. Indeed, it was once widely covered in the popular press whenever a “homeless Oldham” was found, begging among the commoners.

If they had a creed, it would likely be that the family protects the family. Those who bring profit into the family or agree to work for the family are treated to the lavish lifestyle that only the richest can expect. Those who are not, are very simply removed from the family without rancor or passion.

They used their power and position in society to bring back an ancient practice that “purified” the family, despite the societal taboo it embodied. To put it bluntly, they rekindled the practice of royal intermarriage. Each generation of the family was encouraged to propagate their number, and to marry only from within their family. Distant relations were preferred for genetic strength.

This practice proved to be too much for some business partners, who distanced themselves from the Oldhams in an attempt to keep favor with the rest of the world. Rather than shame the family, this enraged the family patriarch, Oscar Oldham, who drew up the metaphorical drawbridges, distancing themselves from other partners, and established them as a reigning house, with a valid claim to the throne.

— An excerpt from “Our nobility, our noblemen, a treatise on our government” by Kirstin Jacobs

Dizzy went back into his room after dismissing his advisors for the night. He headed for the study, and dropped into the large recumbent chair behind the desk. He rapped his gauntlet against the armrest and said, “All right. Get up.”

Sceptre unfolded and climbed onto the desk surface, “How may I be of assistance, my liege?”

“You can explain to me what happened back there. You are supposed to help me.”

“No sir. I am supposed to record you.”

“But you said you could help, reminding me of things that happened, providing translation, amplifying on things I don’t understand-”

“Yes sir. I can do all those things at your request. But those are small, simple things. I will not do anything that influences your position or -”

“No!” Dizzy jabbed a finger at the diminutive robot, “That’s not it. You influence my decisions every time you provide information. You know that. If you weren’t there, I would have to ask someone, making me look stupid and hurting my position among the nobility.”

The automaton stood and hummed for a short moment, “I would not be directly influencing your decision to-”

“Just by being there, you influence the decisions made. Now the only question is, how far are you willing to go?” Sceptre stared at him with one unblinking eye, so Dizzy pressed him, “Somewhere between ‘never gives help’ and ‘destroys my enemies’ there is a position. And you’re taking that position. I have a right to know where you are on that.”

“I don’t jam frequencies to stop listening devices.”

Dizzy stared at the robot for a long moment, then said, “So at least we know that. Maybe someday we’ll see just how close you get to being totally useless.”

The robot whirred and stated, “I fulfill my function.”

Dizzy lay back in the seat, letting it drop him onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, at it’s carved wooden workmanship. For a moment, he wondered if his father had made those tiles. “So, what do you think?”

“Sir?”

“You’ve heard all of this. You heard Cadvan’s warning, and you heard my mother’s story. It sounds like Dunem doesn’t like me very much.”

The robot whirred again, a sound Dizzy was starting to think of as a sigh, “From what I recorded, it seems that Lord Dunem was not happy with the King’s actions. I was given no evidence to indicate that he had a preference for or against you personally. In fact, he chose to pull you out of obscurity rather than let Parliament choose a new heir.”

Dizzy shook his head, “No. That doesn’t work. Dunem needed a warm body in place to keep Parliament at bay. That doesn’t mean he has any particular fondness for me.”

“Absence of proof is not proof of absence.”

Dizzy raised an eyebrow, “Good point. So what does that leave me with? The Athertons? They seem to want me gone.”

“They also seem to be working through the media and Parliament.”

“True. They would be suspected if I turned up dead. So, what about this debt to Oldham? Everybody seems nervous about that.”

“I do not see the connection to an assassination. If you were to die, it would negate your onus, which does not benefit Oscar Oldham’s claim.”

“All the same, I need to clear that debt.”

“That will be difficult, sir. I believe Lord Oldham intends to hold on to that marker for as long as he possibly can.”

Dizzy frowned, “Yes. He’ll wait until it hurts me the most.” He raised one hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples, “Unless I can offer him something of such great value that he can’t possibly turn it down.”

The robot whirred again, “That will be difficult to find, sir. He is a man of means.”

Dizzy grinned, “If there’s anything you learn on the streets, it’s that every man has his price.”

Dizzy woke the next morning bright and refreshed. He was up and dressed before his handlers even reached the door.

As Astor walked in, Dizzy closed a wardrobe door and said, “There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

Olivia walked in behind Astor, and Dizzy said, “Ahm, is Wendy anywhere about?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, “She’s out visiting her father. Do you miss her?”

Dizzy grinned, “It’s not like that. It just would have been better if she was here today.”

Olivia crossed one delicate arm over the other, “A girl could swoon to see how sweetly you speak to her of other women.”

Dizzy bounced past Astor and took her by the shoulders, “Now, now. You know there’s no face I’d rather see, first thing in the morning.”

She grinned and slapped him lightly, “You should be ashamed of yourself. I’ll remind you that you are speaking to a lady.”

Astor said, “Ugh. What did you want to talk to Wendy about?”

Dizzy waved it off, “Doesn’t matter. It would have helped grease the wheels a bit, but I can pull this off either way.” He put an arm around Olivia’s shoulders and said, “May I escort a noble lady to breakfast?”

She grinned, then took on the bearing of a self-important matron, “I suppose, if you can keep your mind pure and chaste.” They walked out of the room, noses held high in the air. Astor jogged along to keep up with them.

As they walked through the hallway, Dizzy turned his head to Astor, “I’m going to need you to set up a conference call for me between the heads of the three noble families.”

Astor looked at him sharply, “You realize that these are important men. You don’t just call them up.”

Dizzy put on the voice of the self-important nobleman, “I am still the king, am I not? Are they not honored to be able to speak to me?”

Astor didn’t play along. He fumed as they walked, “I’m pretty sure they aren’t.”

Dizzy’s grin re-emerged, “That’s fine. Tell each of them that I am going to settle a debt, and if they don’t wish to be there when it happens, then they shall lose out.”

“What are you going to give them?”

Dizzy frowned, “No, wait, that won’t work with Lord Wilde. He doesn’t care whether he gets my favor or not.” He thought about it for a moment, then poked a finger at Astor, “I’ve got it. Tell him that I was glad to let his daughter visit with him, and I would ask that he be present for this discussion, as it will impact us all.”

Astor said, “It would still be easier if I could tell them what it was about.”

“Easier, yes. But not nearly as fun.”

“Is that really one of our concerns?”

Dizzy grinned at him, waggling his eyebrows, “King Dizzy is always concerned about having fun. Where is Jus Cos?”

Astor chuffed, “The reprobate? Probably still in his room. He is under house arrest, you know.”

Dizzy’s step faltered, but only for a moment. Then he nodded, “I see. Well, see to it that he joins us for breakfast. I want him in on this conversation as well.”

Olivia frowned, “As much as I hate to agree with him, do you think Astor’s right about the musician? After all, he is a commoner, and you’ll be talking with three of the most powerful men in the Western world.”

Dizzy shrugged, “Commoners hear the nobility talk all the time, only they are too powerless to do anything about it, which convinces the nobility that they aren’t there. Next time you go to a party, try and count all the lower nobility in the waitstaff. Once you realize that they employ commoners for their waitstaff, you’ll understand what happens to your gossip and treaties.”

Olivia kept walking but turned suddenly silent. He threw his arm around her shoulders again and said, “Don’t be so glum about it. It’s a good thing. It keeps the upper classes in their place.”

By the time they reached the dining room, the Dowager Queen had already broken her fast. She stood as the king entered, and he nodded to her, “My lady.”

She curtseyed, “My liege. It is my honor to inform you that the arrangements you mentioned have been made. I’ve spoken to our mutual friend about organizing a party for you. It may take a day or two, as he wants to invite only your most devoted friends, but he is very glad to help with this.”

Dizzy broke down her speech as quickly as she said it. Sully would have the team put together. It would take two days for the plan to be put into action, but he was confident that they could do it. He smiled at her, “You are too kind, my lady. A celebration for me. I look forward to it with all possible anticipation. Of course, I should be glad to lend my own assistance to the planning, should it be needed.”

She curtseyed again, “My king is as generous as he is wise.”

Dizzy headed for his seat, “Will you sit, my lady?”

They all sat as the smaller children filtered into the room and found their places. Dizzy told stories about lesser noblemen, and the ridiculous situations they found themselves in. He told the children about confidence tricksters who would often cheat a lesser nobleman out of his capital gains, and Olivia chimed in with stories about her father, and how he had outmaneuvered other lords for business gains. The Dowager Queen interjected occasionally with stories that she had heard in her extensive travels, about the thieves and bandits that sometimes threatened foreign lords, thus jeopardizing their business. Astor ate silently, refusing to join in the conversation.

When breakfast was finished, Dizzy jogged over to the boardroom, which had already been taken over with the chaos of the daily security briefing.

Dizzy watched them all for a moment, seeing the little pockets of angry chaos, then he strode into the room. He jumped up on the table and clapped his hands, “Gentlemen, I’ve come to a decision.”

The room silenced as everyone turned to look at him. Dizzy smiled down at them and said, “I’m going to make this world a whole lot easier to deal with. From here on out, every decision we make is going to be based on peace. I’m going to pull our troops out of every occupied area, and return our people to their rightful homes. So, let’s get started.”

He waited as the advisors all stared at him. A few of them turned to look at Lord Dunem, who stepped forward, “I think that, what the king means, is that he would like to -”

“No.” Dizzy cut him off, “They heard me. I just wanted to see how much loyalty there was to the crown. Thank you gentlemen.” He frowned a bit as he looked down at them. A few looked away.

Dizzy sighed, “Don’t worry, gentlemen. You don’t know me. I don’t really expect complete loyalty from one stranger to another. But I tell you this-” He poked one finger at the air between them, “I’ll earn that loyalty. Someday, I’m going to come in with an idea that sounds just as absurd, and you will all nod and start working on it.” He looked down at Lord Dunem, “and you’ll do it without getting permission by my chief of staff.”

Lord Dunem opened his mouth, but Dizzy cut him off again, “So, gentlemen, we’re going to do this a little differently from now on. I want everyone here to find a seat.”

They looked at each other, and slowly gravitated toward the boardroom table as Dizzy began to pace the length of it, “That’s right. Plenty of chairs. Lots of room on the table for maps and notes. Come on, everyone.” Lord Dunem took the seat at the head of the table.

Once they were all seated, Dizzy said, “Very well. Now, no more secrets among the groups. We all have problems, and they’re mostly distinct from each other. But for right now, you’re going to work on them together. You!” He pointed at a grizzled, old general, “Please give me your report.”

The general said, “There’s been news on the kidnapping of Prince Raju.”

Dizzy nodded, “You are prepared to call it a kidnapping now?”

“We are, your highness. There was no sign of premeditation, no letter, no packing, no plans made with friends. All his friends are accounted for, and they have alibis.”

“Have any demands been made?”

“Not that we’re aware of, sir. It is possible that King Gagan is simply not telling us about any communications, but we have no proof of that either.” He looked at the others and said, “In fact, King Gagan has told us he wants us to back off.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed, “He thinks we’re spooking the kidnappers?”

The old man’s eyes flicked down to the table, then back up. He took a deep breath, then said, “I don’t think he has much faith in you, sir. He said that it’s an internal matter, and his people will handle it.”

“What happens if we do nothing?”

A thin young man sitting next to the general said, “That depends on who took him. If it was a career kidnapper, they will make ransom demands, the king will pay them, and that will be it.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed, “Could a career kidnapper get inside the castle?”

“No sir. That’s the real problem. Whoever did this had the means to enter and leave the castle unobserved. That kind of training insinuates a military presence.”

“Which means another nation. It wouldn’t be one of their allies, so the prince was taken by Nepal’s enemies.”

The grizzled, old general said, “Our enemies too. As long as Nepal remains our ally, we have to protect it from outside demands.”

Dizzy took a deep breath, “Anyone else have any thoughts on this?” He looked around the table as he walked across it. No one said anything.

“Very well. Here’s what I’m thinking. Contact King Gagan and tell him that, when he’s ready to accept help, we are ready to provide support. Close off all avenues leading to nearby contested areas. Nepal is a hard place to get into or out of, so if we watch the skies and block the roads, we should be able to force the kidnappers into making the next step.”

“The king won’t like us policing his border.”

“Tell him we will keep it as polite as possible, and that it will stop as soon as we find his child. What’s next?” He pointed at a large, piggish advisor sitting on the other side of the table.

“Ah, sir. Lord Atherton is pushing on having Root declared a controlled substance.”

“Right. Okay… What do you all think we should do about it?”

The large man said, “I would lead the charge. Let him go about creating the prohibition, and we can offer the pharmaceutical companies the right to produce it, with a commensurate production tax. It could give the treasury a needed shot in the arm, which helps the war effort.”

Dizzy nodded, “Okay, anybody else have a thought?” A young woman in the back of the room raised her hand, and Dizzy pointed at her, “Yes?”

“Go the other route. Say that it’s going to be a massive enforcement undertaking, so if Parliament wants to make it illegal, they have to be prepared to pay through the nose in taxes to pay for new police and enforcement agencies.”

Dizzy nodded, “Okay, that’s not bad. Anybody else?”

From behind him, Dunem said, “Make him regret it.”

Dizzy spun around and pointed at him, “Yes! Just what I was thinking. How would you do it?”

“Present it as a health risk that you’re willing to deal with, after you’ve dealt with greater threats.”

Dizzy grinned, “If I recall correctly, Lord Atherton was sniffing pinches of Cloud at my coronation. What kind of medical issues are there regarding Cloud?”

“Not much. It gives a light euphoria, and it is technically addictive.”

“It’s also technically a controlled substance. I need someone to get an expert to analyze the health benefits and risks regarding Cloud versus Root. Have them present it to Parliament with my compliments, stating that I am ready to begin protecting the people from all forms of dangerous substances, no matter how noble or baseborn the person is. What’s next?”

A freckled man near the center of the table raised his hand, “The genetic weapon in Venice.”

Dizzy nodded, “You don’t have a catchier title for it yet? I would have thought that thing deserved a codename.”

The freckled man blushed a bit, “We’re calling it the flipper baby.”

“I like it. What’s the news?”

“It’s still rampaging across the city. It’s destroyed two more buildings, and every time the police go for it, the thing ducks underwater again.”

Dizzy frowned, “Why is it still in Venice?”

“Sir?”

“By now, wouldn’t it have had time to get out of town? It’s clear that it doesn’t want to be caught, and it’s being pursued constantly. Why hasn’t it made a beeline for the border?”

Lord Dunem said, “Perhaps it is worried about our presence near the border.”

The freckled man said, “I doubt that, sir. The thing has been fighting police constantly for nearly a week. It just doesn’t seem to care about military intervention.”

Dizzy frowned down at the elegant, polished tabletop, “It doesn’t want to escape. It’s looking for something else.” He looked around the table, “Anyone have any thoughts on this?”

A young woman said, “The creature has shown a level of intelligence, just by avoiding the police. Have we considered that this may not be a chimera?”

Dizzy rolled one hand in the air, “Go on. What else could it be?”

She shrugged, “We know they did genetic experiments. Not all those experiments involve creatures being created anew. This may be a person who has been altered by viral reconditioning.”

Dizzy nodded, “So it could be reasoned with.”

“Presumably.”

Dizzy stared down at the table again, “But until we get in there, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He cast a quizzical gaze around the room, “Does anyone know if we can call this a humanitarian mission?”

Dunem shook his head, “Not with multiple armies threatening to take the city, and a specific request for non-intervention.”

Dizzy nodded, “Nothing to do about it, then. We keep our place, keep an eye on the situation, and wait. What’s next?”

A tall man stood up from his seat, “Russia has agreed to float us a loan to cover ammunition costs.”

Dizzy blinked in surprise, “I’m sorry, what? We are still at war with Russia. Why on Earth would they be offering us money for ammunition?”

“Because we asked them to, sir.”

Dizzy’s mouth opened and closed reflexively. Lord Dunem rapped on the table and said, “I apologize, your majesty. This is my fault. I have not taken the time to bring you up to speed on our current military situation.”

Dizzy stared at him for a long moment, “But you will explain to me why our enemy is paying us to kill them.” He held his hands out at his sides, “I mean, at some point, you will explain to me why that makes sense.”

Lord Dunem was undisturbed, “I will, sir.”

“Fine. Then we take the money. What’s next?”

The same tall man said, “Papua New Guinea has declared war on Hawaii.”

Dizzy blinked at him, “Really? Why?”

The question seemed to confuse everyone. Dizzy grinned, “Oh, that’s not a good sign. Are we so accustomed to war that we don’t even ask why anymore?”

The group looked uncomfortably at their papers, at each other, and most of all, at Lord Dunem. He cleared his throat, “Your eminence. Once again, we have not had time to fully brief you on the depth and scope of our current military engagements.”

“You cannot be serious. We are really at the point where two of our allies turn on each other, and we don’t ask why?”

“I will put together a briefing for you, sir. It will be ready before the day is out.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Also,” Lord Dunem gazed at him levelly, “we are not, as you say, at the point where two allies turn on each other. As soon as one declares war on the other, we have one ally and one enemy.”

Dizzy waved it off, “I want to avoid that as much as possible. For now, I want that to stay in the hands of the diplomats.” He turned back to the tall man, “Make it clear that we are trying to work through consulates to find a peaceful solution, while this situation is still fluid.”

The tall man interrupted, “It’s worse than that, sir. The state of Nauru is asking for military support in this conflict.”

Dizzy looked back at Dunem, who shrugged. He turned to face the speaker, “I’m not familiar with that country.”

He shifted uneasily, “It is literally one of the smallest countries in the world. It is located here-“ He pointed at a map on the table, “Closer to Papua New Guinea, it is roughly between the two nations. It is relatively unimportant regarding resources, but it has suddenly become a strategically important location.”

Dizzy nodded, “So now, a tiny country is asking us to come to their aid and defend them from two of our allies.” He looked over at Lord Dunem, “I take it that, if we give them support, neither of the two combatants will look kindly upon it.”

Dunem sighed, “Showing support for Nauru will make whichever country we eventually ally with stronger. For that reason, both combatants will be watching us carefully. At the same time, any nation that small cannot hope to defend itself against either of the countries facing it.”

Dizzy fumed, “I’m really looking forward to this briefing of yours.”

Lord Dunem held his head high, “As am I, my lord. The moment holds a special place in my heart.”

Dizzy looked around the room, “Have we got anything else? Any other bad news?” No one rose, so he took a deep breath and said, “I appreciate you coming out here to report, but tomorrow I expect more detail, and less guesswork. Also, you should know that my ways are not going to be Cadvan’s ways. I don’t know what Lord Dunem has in store for me, but I can almost guarantee you that I will not be handling issues the same way he does. I will certainly never ask an enemy for assistance in attacking him. Until then, thank you all for coming out, and I will see you tomorrow.”

Dizzy jumped down from the table and headed for the door. When he reached it, he turned and looked back at them, “You know, I think I like this format, with everyone seated in one group. We should do that again.”

They all sat and watched him, unsure of how to reply. A slow grin grew on his face as he said, “You know what else? The king is standing, and you’re all sitting.”

Dizzy walked out as his advisors scrambled to get out of their seats.

Dizzy saw Jus Cos standing outside the board room. He was dressed in slashed denim pants, a faded plaid shirt, and a sleeveless vest of fur. Dizzy grinned at the man who had clearly decided he was comfortable enough to stand up to the king, “Missed breakkie, but no worries. Little bird says you want me for some chat?”

Dizzy threw an arm around his shoulders as they headed for his office, “I do. I’m going to be talking to three of the men that you have called incestuous, greedy, warmongering perverts. I appreciate you dressing for the occasion.”

The blood drained from Justin’s face, but Dizzy’s arm was firm as he lead the younger man on.

The king’s official office was a grand, ornate thing, with three desks, walls lined with books, and a beamsplitter holoscreen, capable of rendering up to thirty-two locations from anywhere in the world, in full 3D. A fifteen-foot-tall globe stood in a depression in the center of the room, with all the nations marked out on it. The depression surrounding it was covered in cushions to make a sofa area for negotiation and discussion. As Dizzy looked at it, the globe updated to show that Guadalajara had been re-taken by the rebel faction within it.

Olivia and Astor were already prepared. Astor stood at attention next to the main desk, looking every bit the nobleman. Olivia sat in one of the sofas, reading a magazine. She scrolled through stories listlessly, while conspicuously avoiding the glare of her father.

Standing in the beamsplitter’s stage were three men, all transmitting from different locations. Lord Wilde looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot and scratching himself. Lord Atherton stood solemnly, as if unaware that he had been summoned at all. Lord Oldham just sat in his chair and fumed, fingers steepled in front of him.

Dizzy ran into the center of the room and vaulted onto the globe. He rested his feet on the equatorial band, and sat down on Greenland, “Gentlemen, thank you all for coming. I’m sure you were all quite busy, and I appreciate you taking the time to visit.”

Lord Oldham chuffed, “Visit? Son, I’ve got a business to run. If you’re just yankin’ my chain, I’ll have you know I got better ways to waste time.”

Dizzy raised a restraining finger, “Ah, but it’s your benefit I’m here to talk about. It’s about my debt to you.”

Atherton pointed into the room and walked closer to his recorder. The effect was that he suddenly grew in size, standing nearly ten feet tall, “Why is that man here?”

Dizzy looked back at Jus Cos who, despite his obvious fear, stood his ground and scowled back at Lord Atherton. As Jus opened his mouth to speak, Dizzy said, “Mr. Cos is my guest, and here at my request.” Dizzy thought for a moment, “And he’s going to digest – every word that we express – so that he may manifest – my political largesse.” He grinned back at Justin, “That’s not half bad, is it? I may have a talent for music after all.”

Lord Wilde shook his head, “I don’t want him here. He’s a slanderer.”

Justin threw back, “Better than a warmonger. How many men have died on a battlefield for every animal you hunt?”

Dizzy grinned at him again, “Careful, there, Justin. Your accent is slipping.” He turned back to Lord Wilde, “Mr. Cos stays. I’ve told him that he has a few days to come up with some kind of salacious rhyme that fairly besmirches my reign, or I’ll cut his head off.” He grinned at the group in general, “So either way, you won’t have to worry about him a week from now.”

Lord Oldham said, “Forget the crooner. You were talking about yer debt.”

Dizzy snapped his fingers, “I was, and thank you for reminding me.” He sat up straighter, “It occurs to me that I have put myself in a rather sticky situation by owing a debt to Lord Oldham.” He placed a hand over his heart, “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I can only refer to my own inexperience, and promise that it will never happen again.”

Oldham looked nervous, shuffling in his seat, “It’s not so bad as all that. I’m not exactly an ogre or anything.”

“No, but I am now beholden to you, which gives you a distinct advantage over the other houses here.” Dizzy turned to the whole group, “I realize now how fragile our alliance is, and how much we all need to work together. If I owe a debt to any one house, then I give that house power over the other two, which leads to secret alliances, and secret treachery. I would not be the cause of such discord, and so I have chosen to settle this debt today.”

Oldham looked at the others, then back at Dizzy, a slight sneer on his lips, “Well, as it happens, young’n, you don’t have anything I need right now. But I’ll let you know if you can.”

Dizzy held a hand out to stop him again, “I realize you are a man of means, and the only capital I have of any value is my political capital. So I am using it now to settle the debt.”

“I told you, there ain’t nothin’ of yours that I need!”

“Lord Wilde,” Dizzy turned to face the large man, “I need you to do me a favor.”

All three said, “What?” at the same time, but Dizzy shrugged, “I know. I know. It seems awfully silly for me to say I’m getting rid of a debt, then turn right around and take on a new one. Believe me, I see the irony.”

He took a deep breath and continued, “Nonetheless, I am the king, and my wishes are to be obeyed. I will gladly compensate you for this favor in due time.”

Wilde frowned at him, “What do you need?”

Oldham thumped his fist on an armrest, “He don’t need anything. I told you.”

Dizzy grinned, “I need to settle a debt, and I need your help. I’ve been doing some research on the Wilde Warriors, and I’d like for you to send your starting center bear, Sapata, to Lord Oldham. As I said, I will compensate you for the loss.”

The large man’s fists balled up at his sides, “I raised that bear from a cub. I was there when it was birthed.”

“And you’ve done a wonderful job with it. I understand the bear is strong and fast, possibly the best on your team.”

“She IS the best! She’s the best I’ve ever had. I’d never send her to that- “, Dizzy saw a small hand on his arm as Wendy walked into view next to her father. She didn’t say anything but looked at Dizzy with a stricken surprise.

Dizzy pointed at Lord Oldham, “There is nothing I have that can settle this debt with Lord Oldham, but the star center bear from your team would be a welcome addition to his.”

The old man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, “Well, yeah. It would at that.”

Wilde shouted, “It would give them the championship!”

Dizzy shrugged, “Well, I’m no bookie, but I think it would only help their odds about ten percent over the current point spread. Your boys can overcome that. Your team has held the championship for the last five years. In a way, I’m helping to even out the balance of power on the field as well as off. Not bad for my third day in office.”

Wilde stepped forward, not trying to make himself bigger, but clearly trying to keep rage out of his voice, “That bastard treats his bears like chattel, penned up and beaten. I love my animals.”

Dizzy waited for a moment, “I’m sorry. I was waiting to hear you finish that statement. ‘I love my animals, but I love my country more.’ Something along those lines.”

Lord Wilde fumed and glared at Dizzy, then spat out, “And what do I possibly get in return for giving up my favorite animal?”

“My favor and your daughter.” Dizzy pointed at Wendy, whose eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I returned your daughter to you. When she returns, it will be by her own volition, no longer a slave or hostage to the crown.”

Wilde looked down at her, then back at Dizzy, still frowning. He nodded slowly, “It’s not much of a trade. Wendy tells me you released all your hostages.”

Dizzy shrugged, “Yes, but… I hate to put it so baldly, but I must be honest here, it means more to you than to them.” He gestured at Astor, who had not moved as long as his father was on-screen, “Aldrik wants his son to stay here and spy on me, in the hopes that he can find something to discredit my regency.” Lord Atherton’s eyes narrowed to slits, but he made no other move.

Dizzy gestured to Olivia, saying, “And while I find her a delightful consort, Lord Oldham has showed almost no interest in retrieving his daughter.” The old man scowled at Dizzy, but said nothing. Olivia only closed her eyes and held her peace.

“You alone wanted your daughter back, and I am proud to give you that boon in exchange for your help. Seriously, I’ve looked at this every way I could, and it works out for everyone in the long run.” He stood up, one foot on Greenland, “I’ll take care of arrangements for moving the bear. Thank you all for coming, gentlemen, and thank you for giving me the time to learn my place in this palace.” He made a swiping gesture across his neck, and all three feeds cut out.

Astor nearly shouted at him, “What the hell was that?”

Dizzy jumped down from the globe to stand next to Olivia, “I’m sorry. I really am. I just had to take care of -”

She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “You told the truth. How I feel about it is between my father and I.” She stood slowly, still graceful in her movement, “If you will excuse me, though, I think I will retire to my room for a bit.”

Invito Rex – Chapter 11

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“Of all the finest noble clans, house Becket is surely the most entertaining. It is said by the historian Ebersman that ‘every house has held the big stick at one time or another. The Beckets were the only ones to play fetch.’

Whether by marriage or conquest, it is generally accepted that, if a Becket is in power, the next ruler will be of a different house; and if any other house is in power, a Becket will succeed them. There have only been a few notable exceptions, including the reign of King Sigler, whose bastard son succeeded him, and King Richard whose sons both reigned in turns.

It is often said that the Becket’s reigns have acted as a calming force for other houses, as any massive overtures made by one generation are generally struck down by a Becket in the next generation. When King Oliver the third declared all federal prisoners to be vassals who had given up their agency to the state, it was a Becket who was heralded for freeing the slaves and wresting control of the nation away from him. When Mad King Aaron declared war with Luna, a settlement of his own country, it was Daniel Becket who picked up the sceptre after the Mad King’s sudden demise.

This is not to imply that the Beckets have always been a calming influence. It is well known that the Cutpurse King was a Becket, whose controversial reign could hardly be described as calm.”

— An excerpt from “Our Nobility, Our Noblemen, a Treatise on Government” by Kirstin Jacobs

The procession was just as Dizzy had pictured, though not on any scale he would have imagined. The funeral shut down all of Broadway and ran more than thirty miles. Commoners travelled from across the nations to be there and witness the funeral of their monarch. They were packed ten levels deep, all craning their heads to see the procession. Fathers hoisted their children onto their shoulders so they could see the momentous occasion.

The head of the procession was a dark velo covered in roses, with a mechanized petal spreader that ensured the king would walk in rose petals one last time. It played a powerful orchestral dirge that filtered through the streets, just slightly louder than the murmur of the crowd. The velo had a large hologram of King Cadvan growing out of the roof, standing proud and dignified. For most of the crowd, this was the first time they had ever seen the king’s face. Following that was a set of six white horses, combed and groomed to perfection, pulling a hovering hearse, with garlands of white running along the roof and sides. The guards walked alongside the hearse, looking like odd pallbearers.

Dizzy’s velo rode behind the hearse, with Wendy, Olivia, Astor, Jus, and his mother. Their velo drove with the tinted, bulletproof glass raised. Dizzy looked out the windows and frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother said, “No.”

Dizzy pouted, “I was just going to say-”

“No.”

He pushed on, “If we just rolled down the window-”

“No.”

“How do they even know we’re in here?”

The Dowager Queen smoothed her black dress across her seat and refused to meet his eye, “They know you are here because you are in the new king’s position. They don’t need to see you for that. And they don’t care about anyone else.”

Dizzy threw himself back into his seat, “If I’d come all this way to see the funeral, I’d be pretty upset to see nothing but a line of black cars.”

“This is not done for the people, your majesty. This is done for the memory of King Cadvan, may he find ecstasy in eternity. It is the duty of the people to show what respect they have for the king.”

Many people were, in fact, throwing flowers into the procession. Dizzy saw some women weeping. It staggered him that people had such a strong reaction to the death of someone they could not have possibly known.

Following their car, other nobility travelled in similar dark velos. Above them, fighters flew in the missing man formation, carrying banners with Cadvan’s name and face, animated as they flew. Fireworks followed them as they passed overhead.

The procession ran from Yonkers all the way past Harlem into Manhattan, to a church just off of Battery Park. From there, they could see the ancient statue of Illumination which shone night and day as a demonstration of the power and security that the monarchy provided.

The press of people was maddening as Dizzy and his entourage left the velo, but the guards kept them far out of reach. They were well accustomed to King Cadvan’s view on commoners, and knew how to keep them out of the way. Dizzy kept a somber look on his face, and waved once to the press as they entered the church.

The immense structure seemed bigger on the inside, with curved ceilings that seemed so tall they might never come to a point. Stained glass windows colored the room and shone on the single aisle between the rows of pews. At the top of the steps sat Cadvan’s casket, with the hologram beside it. Dizzy couldn’t shake the slightly creepy feeling that it was Cadvan’s spirit looking over the casket.

Once everyone was settled, the priest came out and spoke of the eternal life Cadvan had received in death. He read from his book and asked them to sing along with him. The choir in the hidden rafters were powerful and exquisite. They made Dizzy want to stop singing and just listen, even as he knew that there were dozens of cameras on him.

The priest asked others to step forward and say a few words of remembrance about the deceased. Lord Dunem was the first to respond, as was his right. He spoke of the King’s diligence, his faithfulness to duty, and his love of the country.

Dizzy had been half hoping that there could learn something of his brother from all this. But as one nobleman after another came up to speak, Dizzy heard the same things. No anecdotes about the king’s kindness. No specific remembrances of friendly things he had said or done. Everyone spoke in a general tone about a man that they only knew by his works.

Then, when it seemed like the most minor nobles were speaking, the priest walked back up to the podium. He said, “At this time, I would like to ask the deceased’s relatives to come up and say a word of remembrance.”

Everyone turned to look at Dizzy. Everyone. He could feel the gaze of a thousand parishioners all focused on him. He stood slowly, and walked up to the podium.

Dizzy looked out over all the expectant faces. People who had fought for seats to this event, had newly-tailored outfits just for this occasion. People who gave fealty and claimed love, but did not know the man. And they were all listening to him, another stranger, to say something about the man they didn’t know. Were they hoping to learn from Dizzy, the same way he had hoped to learn something from them?

Dizzy took a deep breath and said, “Alas, poor Cadvan. I knew him not at all.” He paused for a moment of light-hearted chuckling, but got nothing. He nodded and pressed on, “Many have come up here to say how my brother had changed their lives. They have talked about how his policies have improved the safety and lifestyle of the people. They have discussed his military savvy and his domestic protection. But I don’t think anybody knew him.”

He shrugged, “Now I had an excuse. I was more or less hiding out. Nobody even knew who I was, least of all Cadvan.” Dizzy gestured at the hologram, and noticed that the man was almost exactly his height. Now that he looked at it up close, the man did look a lot like him. Dizzy realized that he never would have known that, if the king hadn’t died.

“But you didn’t have that excuse.” He turned back to the crowd. They didn’t react, but he could feel them growing colder, “You lived with him, worked with him, saw him every day. You knew him better than anyone, and yet no one gave an accounting of what a good friend he was, or how they loved him. To my mind, there are only two possible reasons for that. Either he was a royal pain in the ass-” The crowd gasped at that, but he expected it and rolled on past, “Or all of you kept your distance.”

“I can imagine what it’s like, having to work with the king. People are bowing and scraping so much, there’s no time to be friends with him. Even if you have the time, what could you possibly talk about? How do you talk to the man who has to decide whether you are prosperous or penniless? How can you be friends with the man who sends your sons to war? You can work with such a man, even respect him. But as you see here, nobody really loved him.”

Dizzy looked back at the hologram, “I don’t think Cadvan was a pain in the ass. I think he was trapped in a bubble of proper distance. And having lived inside that bubble for even a little while, I can tell you… He’s in a better place.”

Dizzy turned and nodded to the priest, then walked back down to his seat. The priest stepped up to the podium and said, “As requested in his will, the King will now provide a final, pre-recorded statement.”

The hologram snapped into life. It put it’s hands on its hips and said, “Thank you for coming to my funeral. I appreciate your attendance, and thank you for your many years of fealty. Our time together has been too brief. I have done all I could to make our country the strongest in the world. We have increased the GDP by an average of seven percent per year for the last decade. I have increased crop yields by more than thirty percent in my reign. We have liberated Somalia, Korea, Cuba, and Western Greenland.” Heads nodded in the crowd as noblemen thought of all the good King Cadvan had done.

He held his open hands out, “Alas, there is only so much one man can do. Despite your help, there are still so many things left to do. So many out there who still yearn for the support and protection that only a strong king can give. They will need a great man, and I fear I am no longer that man.”

Dizzy frowned, wondering if he was the only one to hear the pompous tone in his brother’s voice. Cadvan’s ghost raised a hand to the crowd, “While I am sure this is a terrible time for those who survive me, I must ask you to keep the peace. You must quell the riots and help the people to heal from this terrible injury. I only wish I could be there to comfort them myself.”

Dizzy fought the impulse to snicker, even as he realized that Cadvan was probably entirely serious. He truly thought himself so important that the people would be rending their clothes and tearing out their hair. For days, Dizzy had tried to understand this man, to live the way he did and be the kind of leader he had been. And only now that he had given up and chosen to be his own kind of king did he find out what a vapid, egotistical narcissist his brother was.

“I am sure that parliament will come to a quick resolution and find a worthy candidate for my successor.” He smiled playfully, “While I’m sure there are many candidates, I believe I know who the top contenders are. I wish them all luck in their efforts.”

Dizzy’s mouth fell open when he heard that. Cadvan knew that the major houses would try to fight it out in Parliament, and he let it happen. More than that, he all but encouraged them to attack each other in an attempt to take his place. Dizzy turned to his entourage, and found the noble children frowning. They took his meaning, and they expected it. They knew what he was, and they served him still.

Cadvan’s ghost raised a hand again to the middle distance, “Until parliament comes to a decision, though, I would ask that you all follow my most loyal advisor, Lord Ashford Dunem, in his attempts to hold my legacy together. I trust him as I do my right arm, and I know he will provide for the country.” The hologram paused for a moment, so still that Dizzy thought there may be a glitch in the recording, then he looked out at them, appearing to search through the crowd, “Tell Heather I’m sorry.”

Dizzy looked back to see the lord, standing tall and proud, but seemingly unaffected by the words. Dunem always looked tall and proud. There was even a hint of a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Cadvan’s ghost took a deep breath and said, “I realize that you may have already found a worthy successor, as Ashford is an efficient and thorough planner. And so, if a new king has already been chosen, I would ask him to step forward now.”

Dizzy stood and began to walk up to the podium. Distance sensors in the base of the hologram recognized that someone was advancing, and the hologram continued, “I would have a few words alone with the new king. I thank you all for coming today, but I must pass on wisdom which is not fit for all ears.”

For a moment, no one moved. A small sensor counted faces in the crowd and the hologram responded, “This is no jest. I want to talk to the new king alone. Get out.” He waved them away, “All of you. Go on!”

The whole group shuffled out quickly, still muttering words of kindness for their former king. Dizzy watched them file out, and saw Lord Dunem standing perfectly still until the very end. He watched Dizzy for a long time, then nodded once and took his leave of them.

Dizzy turned to face the hologram, “All right. What do you want?”

The face in the hologram changed suddenly, as the system re-oriented on his position, “I don’t know you. I’ve recorded thirty-seven different versions of this speech, tailored to the people most likely to replace me, but this recording hardware can’t find your face in any of them.”

He stomped the base of the hologram once, despite the futility of the movement. Then he continued, “If this message is playing, then Dunem has seen to my proper burial, which means that no one has supplanted him. That also tells me that, whoever you are, you are also his choice. His puppet. Well, Pinocchio, you had best keep that nose in check when you speak to him. He is an unforgiving master.”

Dizzy frowned at the hologram. Just moments ago, when he had the chance to unmask Dunem, the king chose to praise him. And now that they were alone, he showed, what? Fear?

The king wrung his hands together, “Understand this. As long as you are king, you need not fear him. Don’t worry that he put you in this position. He does not own you. You are still king. That may be your only weapon.”

The hologram looked up suddenly, as if he heard a noise, then turned back to face Dizzy, “Play them for friends. It is the only way they will let you run free. But never think that they are on your side. Trust no one.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “Something is coming. It is bigger than me. I’ve been trying to get a hold of it, but it is all around me. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about my death. Honestly, something this massive is too big to care about assassinating one monarch. But you need to be ready.”

Dizzy looked back at the closed door to the church. He wondered how private this conversation could truly be. The hologram continued, “Trust no one. Find your own friends. The ones that come with this life are snakes and puppets. I know they are watching me, and mine will not be the first death.” He looked up suddenly again, stepping closer to the hologram camera. He whispered, “I can’t help you any more. I wish I could, but I just don’t know how far this goes. Destroy this recording when you can. It won’t keep you safe, but it may buy you time.” He tapped the brooch on his chest, “There is only one recording you can truly trust.” Dizzy took the meaning immediately, one hand moving to the crown on his head that hummed slightly.

He straightened up and said, “Whoever you are, I wish you a long life, and better luck than I had.”

The hologram winked out. Dizzy stared at the empty air for a moment, then walked up to the base of the machine. He ejected the hologram data slip, and crumpled it up in his hands. He could hear the crunching of the paper as connections shattered and melted in the warmth of his hand.

He sat on the altar steps for a long time, first worrying, then planning. By the time he stood up to leave, he had a plan in mind. There were people he needed to talk to.

Dizzy left the church to find a host waiting outside the door. The press had apparently learned that this king did not punish reporters, and so they pressed up against the security walls, calling out his name. Mourners for Cadvan mixed with well-wishers for the new king. Dizzy looked out past the velos, to see the street covered in a mass of commoners. Some held signs saying, “Cadvan was my King” and “Gone too soon”. It wasn’t just the reporters shouting his name, either. Commoners were pressing forward and shouting “King Augustus, King Augustus.”

It was strange and unnerving to Dizzy. He’d spent most of his life trying to slip away from people’s attention, and to be faced with a throng of people chanting his name was just… wrong.

He raised a hand to shoulder level and waved at the people, then jogged down the stairs and got into the nearest velo. Inside, his group was already waiting. They all looked at him expectantly, trying not to show too much interest. Dizzy just looked out the window. There was so much to do, and he was already so far behind.

Astor finally broke the silence, “Well? What did he say?”

Dizzy blinked at him for a moment. He was so far away mentally, it took him a moment to understand the question, “What? Oh, yes. Well, he said it was a difficult job, and that I must remain strong. You know. The standard ‘passing the torch’ kind of speech.”

Dizzy turned to face the Dowager Queen. In a very still, deliberate voice, he said, “I wonder, my lady, if you would take a private walk with me in the gardens. We have an extensive topiary set up outside the East wing.”

His mother caught the tone and said in the same voice, “I should be glad to accompany your majesty. When shall we take this walk?”

His voice was flat, “Immediately.” He fell back into the plush seat and frowned out the window.

—

They sat in silence for the remainder of the trip. As soon as the velo stopped, Dizzy dashed back into the palace. He headed straight for the gardens as soon as he entered.

Dizzy reached the Eastern gardens a few minutes before his mother. They were exactly as he had pictured them, huge and ornate. Flowers bloomed inside the carefully-sculpted topiary that ringed the center of the gardens. Inside that ring, all manner of blossoming flower bloomed, creating a mosaic tapestry of beauty. Dizzy was sure there was a pattern in their colors and placement, but he couldn’t see what it was. In the center stood a large bandstand gazebo, with a bench that ran the circumference, and a table in the center. The gazebo was made of ancient wood, sturdy and well-worked. Master craftsmen had carefully sculpted the railings and pillars that held the gazebo up. The trailing corners of the white linen tablecloth fluttered in the breeze. A pitcher of water and two glasses were set atop the table. Dizzy wondered at the efficiency of a staff that knew ahead of time where he was going and who would be with him. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Past the gazebo stood a hedge maze more than twelve feet high. Dizzy considered the hedge maze for a moment, then changed his mind, thinking that might be overkill.

“My liege,” Dizzy turned to see his mother waiting. She curtseyed slightly when he faced her. He was a bit surprised to see that such a stately woman, wearing so much jewelry, could still move so silently.

He nodded to her and said, “Would you join me in the gazebo?”

“As your majesty wishes.”

She held out her hand, palm down, for him to lead her up the gazebo steps. It was unnecessary, but Dizzy could tell she was taking the same precautions he was. They played the parts of noble lord and lady until they reached the table. Dizzy pulled out the chair for his mother, then sat across from her.

He said, “If you will forgive me for a moment, I’m afraid I must do something a trifle unorthodox.”

She snapped her fan open and waved it lightly, “After that eulogy, I should expect nothing less, my liege.”

Dizzy grinned and looked up at the ceiling of the gazebo. As his mother looked up, he tapped the gauntlet on his wrist, “Are there any listening devices around here?”

There was no response. Dizzy sighed, “You have targeted speakers, she doesn’t need to hear anything you say, and I have no intention of giving up your identity. Now I know you are capable of scanning for listening devices, probably even jamming them. So please, answer your king’s question.”

The Dowager Queen looked back down at Dizzy, who now stared at the middle distance. She frowned a bit, and continued fanning herself.

Dizzy heard the voice softly in his head, “No.”

“No, you won’t answer, or No, there aren’t any bugs?”

There was a short pause, then the voice said again, “I detect no listening devices nearby.”

“Could you set up some kind of destructive frequency that would stop any listening devices?”

“That is not my purpose.”

“But can you do it?”

“Yes.”

“Please do.”

“No.”

Dizzy wanted to slam his wrist into the table. The only thing stopping him was the fact that it would make it too obvious who he was talking to. He simply smiled instead, “Your king is ordering you to jam any nearby listening devices.”

The voice raised in volume, “That is not my function. I will not break my primary function so that I can help you with a temporary inconvenience. If you wish to discuss this, may I recommend a time when we are alone, so that you will not jeopardize my mission in the way you are doing now.”

Dizzy forced himself to keep the smile, “Very well. We will discuss it later.”

He turned to his mother, “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged, “Nothing so odd about it. You have a confederate here in the palace, someone you can communicate with. Hidden earbud?”

“Ah, no.”

She fanned herself again, “None of my business anyway. It’s good that you have people here you can trust.”

Dizzy sat forward, “That is the very crux of my problem.” He paused for a moment, “No one can hear or see us right now. So let’s drop the act. I need to talk to Vicki Veevers.”

She blinked at him for a moment, fanning herself lazily. Then she leaned forward, snapped the fan shut and said, “Only if I get to call you ‘Vinnie’.” Dizzy recognized that smile from years of seeing it in the mirror. “I suppose you want to ask about your father.”

“I- well, actually… yeah, sure. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I guess it’s okay to tell me about him, huh?”

“Sure. Well, the first thing you should know is that he was a good man. I don’t mean he was a good king or a noble ruler or any of that crap. I mean that, if he had nothing, he would still have had any woman he wanted.”

Dizzy raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know if that’s the kind of thing I was hoping to hear about.”

She slapped him lightly with the fan, “That’s not what I mean. I mean that he was the kind of man people loved. He was strong, loyal, brave, and kind. When he walked down the street, people waved at him and called out to him.”

Dizzy chuffed, “Of course they did. He was the king.”

“No, you silly boy.” She frowned a bit, “What have they told you about King Richard?”

He shrugged, “Nothing. I mean, my history training didn’t go much into modern monarchy, and honestly, I spent more time learning about how to infiltrate the lower nobility. I never cared about the higher echelon until… well, a couple of days ago.”

She nodded, “And no one’s talked to you about him while you were here?”

“It’s only been a couple of days. I’ve been busy screwing up the country, losing games for high stakes, and learning how what I eat becomes a matter of national importance.”

“That’s fair.” She sat back in her chair. Dizzy was surprised at how quickly she changed from the prim and proper lady to a normal commoner. She sighed, “So, your father hated this job.”

Dizzy smiled, “That seems to run in the family. From what I can tell, Cadvan didn’t like it any better.”

“Yeah. See, at the time, I was working a long con on a quickly-rising nobleman. I was going to be his dusky secret desire.” She smiled and laughed at an unspoken joke. “I was invited to a royal ball, which made me a little nervous.”

Dizzy nodded. He knew the feeling well, “You were afraid you’d be found out?”

“Oh, no. Well, not for myself, I mean. If anyone had asked me, I’d tell them I was a commoner. It would hurt my boy toy’s reputation, but that wasn’t my problem.” She stared off into the middle distance, “I think he wanted to be found out. Being unmasked at a ball would be easier, in some ways, than having to admit to his wife that he loved someone else.”

She sighed, “But then, while at the ball, I happened to dance by the King, who took a fancy to me. He invited me to dance, he sat and talked with me. In some ways, I think he solved my escort’s marital problem for him, but I doubt the boy toy would thank Richard for it.”

Dizzy marveled at how easily she referred to Good King Richard, first of his name, so casually. She said, “At first, the very first I mean, I think he was attracted by my looks. I was so much more beautiful then.” She sighed and another grin touched her face, “But when he found out I was a commoner, well, he was sold. He asked me all kinds of questions about my life. How did one get a job, how do you know how much food to buy without it going rotten, what do you do when you’re not working in the coal mines? I’m sure he’d seen commoners before, but I don’t think he’d ever had a glimpse of how they really lived, and it fascinated him.

So I figured, here’s my new pigeon. I was still working the long con, but good grief, you only get so many easy marks in life. I figured I had to grab this one, and after all, he wasn’t too hard on the eyes. I offered to show him what it was like to be a commoner.

He would, every so often, duck his security and come out to Brooklyn, where we had a house. He told everyone he was a carpenter; Woodworker, really. It’s a position that’s got some prestige among the lower classes, because you deal with the nobs, but you’re not nobility yourself, if you get me.”

Dizzy nodded, “So, you’re telling me that the King of all the Americas went to Brooklyn and played at being a commoner?”

She shrugged, “Everybody’s got a secret. He gave me cash so I could rent a place. Then, every couple of weeks he came out and we played house for a while. Never more than a few days at a time.”

“What- I mean, what did he DO when he was out there? Just walk the streets and say, ‘Hello, fellow commoner’?”

She grinned, “Nah. He would go to the bar, hang out with the guys, complain about the new healthcare quotas, same as all the other laborers. He listened to them tell their tales of woe, shake his head at the unfairness of it all, then go back to the lap of luxury.”

Dizzy frowned, “Don’t look down on him for that. This life isn’t exactly easy. There’s a lot of commoners who have it better just because they’ve got a living and don’t have to worry about anybody else.” He pointed a finger South, “There’s people out there who have clothes on their backs, a roof over their heads, and not a care in the world because we are watching out for them. All they have to do is some menial labor that they’re well trained and skilled at. We have to make decisions every day that ruin somebody’s life. We have to- What?”

Vicki sat back in her chair, fingers laced over her belly, “Nothing, kid. It’s just that,” she sighed, “You reminded me so much of your father right then.” She took a deep breath and said, “So that’s what he did. Most days I would tell people that he was on assignment making some kind of table or door molding for a nobleman, and then when he came home, we would go to the market. Oh, he used to love going to the market. He was always amazed to see people concentrating so hard on which foods to buy, checking the labels and comparing prices. Don’t get me wrong, he understood why, it was just culture shock.

He would visit with the neighbors, he would go out to the bars with his friends.” She wiped away a tear, “You know what he used to do every Sunday. I mean, if he was home with us, every Sunday he would invite the whole neighborhood over and we would have a big party in the backyard. He said it was his way of thanking them for taking care of his little lady while he was away.

When they had babies, he was overjoyed for them. When they lost family, he mourned with them. When they lost their jobs, I had to nearly hold him down to keep him from throwing money at them.”

Dizzy nodded, “But he didn’t just leave them alone, did he?”

She smiled again, “I couldn’t stop him. I told him it would blow his disguise, but your father was born to help people. He worked through other channels, found noblemen who talked to noblemen, who found a place for these people to work. Nobody on that street ever starved for long.”

The smile on her face began to dim, “I think that was how we got caught. Someone noticed him helping people, and it got back to the palace.”

Dizzy asked, “Caught? How could he get caught? It’s not like he was breaking any laws.”

She shook her head sadly, “There are many ways to get in trouble, kid. And there are far too many ways to get punished for upsetting the apple cart.

One day, I come home from visiting a friend to find Ashford Dunem standing in the living room. He’s got a couple of bruisers flanking him. I figure I’m pinched, and I’m thinking about running, but there’s another one who closes the door behind me and stands there, blocking it.

So I turn back to Ashford, and you know what he’s like. He was standing there, looking immaculate and polished in my dingy little living room, his nose up high in the air, and he says, ‘This charade is ended.’”

She squinted in anger, “Imagine the pompous bastard, just standing there and talking like we were in the middle of a royal dinner. ‘This charade’.” She shook her head.

“After that, it was all business. He didn’t know anything about my past, but he figured me for a grifter, and there’s really only two ways to get rid of a talented grifter. You pay them or you kill them. I lucked out, he chose the money.

He offered me a few years wages for a woodworker, in exchange for me keeping my trap shut. He said he was buying the house from me, which seemed like an odd thing to do.” Vicki pointed a finger at Dizzy, “Keep that in mind. That’s how Dunem thinks. Everything proper, everything explainable. He bought me off by considering how much I would have made in life insurance, then added the cost of the house. None of this, ‘One million dollars or I cut off your head’ nonsense. In his mind, Ashford was just doing business, so every part of the transaction had to have a purpose. In exchange, I had to move out of Brooklyn, I couldn’t contact Robert again, and I couldn’t tell anyone about our time together.

He asked me if I was pregnant, and I lied. I hadn’t told Richard, and I’d be damned if he would hear it first from that dry lizard of a man. He said he wanted tests done, but I wouldn’t let him.”

Dizzy asked, “How could you stop him? I mean, he was the right hand to the king, and he had you caught. How do you just say, ‘No’?”

She smiled, “Well, Ashford was in a bit of a bind himself. I didn’t realize how much until later. See, if he killed me, or locked me up, Richard would have his head. Seriously, had him beheaded. But if he didn’t kill me, he had to make sure I kept my mouth shut. After that, it was just business. He had to ask for everything he could get, and give me as little as he could to buy my silence. If I didn’t like the deal, I could go to the newsies and shout ‘scandal’. See, Richard hadn’t married the queen yet, wasn’t even engaged, but Ashford had already picked her out and started the process. A sex scandal right then would have ruined everything for him. So there was room on both sides for negotiation.”

She shook her head, “And I thought I was so clever. I took the money, moved to Seattle, and started working short cons. I missed Richard, of course, but that’s the nature of the game. You don’t get too attached, right?”

Dizzy could see her eyes glisten as she lied to herself. She took a deep breath and continued, “It turns out, there’s a lot of stuff you can do as a ‘poor pregnant woman’ that you could never get away with as a single girl. The money I saw in those few months was more than I’d ever made on the streets before. And I didn’t even need it, because I still had Ashford’s payoff. But the whole time, I was worried about you.”

She looked into his eyes and shook her head, “I’m not mommy material, Vince. I knew it then, and nothing I’ve seen has ever convinced me otherwise. I live a life of lies, and I know it. I didn’t want to bring up a child who watched me lie to one person after another just to get money.” She stared into the middle distance, “It’s funny. I have no problem with the life itself, but I wouldn’t ever want to raise a child that way.” She shook her head, frowning, “You know, I even thought about doing that old cliche, where you show up in the middle of a fancy party and say ‘I want you to meet your son, Richard!’ I don’t even know what I would have gained from it. More money, I guess. And even though I never would do it, the mercenary side of me said it was a marker I could call whenever I wanted.”

She sighed, “It’s fine to be all philosophical about it when you’re pregnant, but once you were actually born, everything changed. I couldn’t move around the way I wanted to. I had to be there, caring for you, eating into all my savings. I couldn’t work, I got bored out of my mind, and I didn’t know anybody except for a few other grifters I’d met in Seattle. I was seriously thinking about giving you up for adoption.”

Dizzy had been listening with rapt attention, but hearing that woke him out of the stupor. A sneer touched his lips and he remembered just how she had treated him. She stared at him and waited, watching his face, nodding, “That’s right. I deserve it. I was ready to get rid of you just because you were cramping my style. That’s your mother, in a nutshell.

Then one day, I walk into my apartment, and there’s three guys waiting for me. Two knee-breakers and Richard. I was standing there, my hair a mess, grocery bags hanging from my elbows, and no make-up. But he looked at me with nothing but love. He looked at you, and… My God, that smile.”

She took a deep breath and said, “Your father loved you, Vince. He loved you from the moment he saw you there in my arms.

I’ll never know how he did it, tracked me down, got away from Ashford without him knowing. All I know is that he loved you, and he loved me, and it killed him to let us go.

We sat down to talk about it. He watched me change you. He had married the queen. He said she was a fine woman, so I guess it must be true. I could tell he didn’t love her, though.”

She sighed and looked down at her hands, “Or maybe that’s just the view of a vain old woman. Either way, he knew you were his. No question. He wanted to help you so much… He gave me more money, asked if we needed anything. I… ” She frowned, “I asked him to leave us alone. I thought about that con, the one where I introduce you at a party, and it disgusted me. I wanted him to live his life, and I wanted to live mine. I even thought I could figure out something for you.

He didn’t stay long. They watched him closer than ever. I think his wife had a hand in that. In any case, he left us alone again, and I’d swear, I felt more alone this time than the last.”

The lady put one hand to her face and took a deep breath, “After that, it was the two of us on the streets. As soon as you were old enough to walk, you were a distraction for the rubes that let me slit purses. As you got older, I taught you how to lift valuables while I sang for our supper. I still had a fairly decent voice back then, and a girl singing in the L-Way was normal enough that people would stop and throw coins right before you picked their wallets.” She looked at him and nodded proudly, “You had good hands, and a quick mind. For some reason, it never occurred to me that you might get pinched. After all, you couldn’t have been seven by the time we started really working. Who would have suspected you?”

Dizzy remained quiet. He vaguely remembered those days. He remembered his mother’s grinning face as they counted bills and threw them in the air with excitement. She said, “We hung around with other grifters, and you were like a good luck charm for the bunch. They adopted you as much as any parents could, feeding you what scraps they scrounged, sharing their tricks and songs and stories with you. That’s where we met Sully, you know.”

Dizzy nodded. He knew Sully. He knew Sully better than any of them. She said, “So we ran through the money. I was never good with money back then. It all went into games and deco and expensive foods and toys.” She held up one hand suddenly, “Never booze or drugs. I’d seen what happened to those who got into that, and we were gonna be the smart ones. I was the designated driver of the thieving scene. The last one awake at the end of the poker game, if you take my meaning.

But then, one day, you and I were pulling the ‘distressed stranger’ con. ‘Please, sir. Won’t you come help my mother? She’s having fits, and I can’t afford a cab to get her to the hospital.’ It turned out you picked an undercover narc. That wouldn’t have been so bad in itself, as we’d learned how to scamper at the first sign of metal, but this one knew me. I’d taken him before. So when he came to help and saw me, he knew we were scamming him. He got up close, then made a grab for me. I recognized him at the last second, and rolled. You and I were running, and he was hot on our tracks. We knew how to handle it though. Split up and regroup. I told you to find Sully, and that I’d meet you later.”

Dizzy whispered, “The last thing you ever said to me.”

She shook her head sadly, “When we split, he went for me. I coulda got away from him, but he had a partner, and I didn’t know it. Next thing you know, I’m pistol-whipped and out cold. I wake up in holding.”

She took a deep breath, “They didn’t have anything on me, because nobody reported me on the older stuff, and we never actually got anything off of him for this one. They threatened to go for you, but I knew you’d be all right with Sully.”

Dizzy broke in, “Why didn’t my father help you?”

She shook her head, “I honestly don’t know. Maybe he realized that they didn’t have nothing on me. Maybe he wasn’t watching me as close as I’d thought. Maybe the queen wouldn’t let him. No sense wondering over maybes. And honestly, that never bothered me as much as…”

She stared into the middle distance, her face growing slack. Dizzy pressed, “Go on.”

She sucked in breath and said, “So there I was, released. On my own and free to go. I thought they might have a tracker on me, see if I met up with you, but I never really worried about that. If they had anything on me, they’d have already used it. No, I was free and nobody knew where I was. I could go anywhere.”

“So you ran away.”

“When a job goes bad, you start up somewhere new. That’s the oldest rule in the book. I knew how much Sully and the boys loved you. I knew you’d be alright.”

“And I was just getting in your way, anyway. Slowing you down. If you didn’t have to drag me along when you ran, you could have got away clean.”

She stared at him for a long time, then nodded, “Go ahead. You’re right. I thought all of that and more. I didn’t do it for you, I did it for me, and I never looked back.” There was no pride in her voice as she said that. She just shook her head, “I have to assume Sully did right by you. I mean, just look at you.” She tried a smile, but it didn’t work.

Dizzy nodded, “Sully kept me in house for a while, waiting for you. He made up fanciful stories about how you got pinched and shipped off, but you were fighting to escape prison and come back to me. He did that for years, and slowly, we both just accepted the truth.”

She blinked at him, “What did he do with you?”

“Put me in the back, mostly. I was the roper on a few of his long cons, finding the mark and then testing to see that he was financially flush, and morally curious. Sully never let me get into the thick of it. I think he was just trying to find a place for me where I wouldn’t get in the way, but still earned my keep.

Then, one day, he up and tells me he’s shipping me off. I’d been saving my share for years, putting a bit away whenever I could, trying to get enough scratch together to track you down. He knew it, and I think he knew that I didn’t want to find the answer. So instead, he tells me he’s got a better idea. He tells me I have to use all my money to sign up for a finishing school.”

The lady’s eyes widened, “A- ah, I didn’t know that really existed.”

Dizzy nodded, “The Malcolm Rutherford Holden Institute of Regentrification. After that… well, after that I started working much easier cons.” Dizzy paused for a moment, then said, “I think Sully may have been trying to get rid of me, but he did just about the kindest thing he possibly could. He may have saved my life.”

Dizzy looked down at his lap for a moment, then took a deep breath and continued, “And that’s why I called you here. I honestly didn’t mean to spend so much time talking about my father. I need you to do something for me.”

The lady nodded and grinned, “I’m here to serve my liege.” A sad tone followed, “I owe you a lot, kid.”

Dizzy ignored the comment, “Find Sully. Talk to whoever you need to talk to. I can’t do it, because I’m being watched all the time, but you still have some freedom of movement. I need you to talk to him, because I need him to get a team together. There’s people he knows, and I need their help.”

She nodded, “It will be done. Oh!”, she looked up suddenly, a trace of fear in her eyes, “Have you spoken with Lord Valen yet?”

Dizzy blinked at her, “No. Who is he?”

She leaned back in her seat, “Nobody important to the king. I just knew he was looking for you, and I … Well, I just wanted to see if you’d talked to him yet.”

Dizzy nodded and took a deep breath. For a moment, all the different things he was carrying around in his head seemed to spin around him, reorganizing and blurring into one another. He leaned his head into a palm.

The Dowager Queen reached out one hand and placed it over his, “Is everything all right?”

Dizzy shook his head, “No. Not yet. I think I’m to be assassinated, and unless I play my cards right, I won’t live to see next week.”

Invito Rex – Chapter 10

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Can’t stand what I viddie

Fear runs through the city

Nobs sneer without pity

But they fear my ditty.

They all fear my truth

Jus’ Cos I seem uncouth

They spit their vermouth

At the voice of the youth

Viddie well, my bruvs. You are the heart and soul.

You’re the ones dyin out there to win their petty goals.

Viddie well, my bruvs, and I’m hopin’ you can see,

How much power, how much danger, the lot of us can be.

Tha streets’r filled with starfin’ poor

While Wilde and Wooly’s out shootin’ boar

Killin’ animals while his war

Is brought back home to our nation’s shores

Viddie well, my bruvs. You are the heart and soul.

You’re the ones dyin out there to win their petty goals.

Viddie well, my bruvs, and I’m hopin’ you can see,

How much power, how much danger, the lot of us can be.

Our money nobs’r takin’ and

Generals are rakin’ in

Fees so they’re fakin’

These wars that they’re makin’

Our brothers they’re killin’

And blood that they’s spillin’

In graves that we’re fillin’

And for what?

Drop your guns and look around. I pray you viddie well.

- An excerpt from “Viddie Well”, by Jus’ Cos

The throne room looked smaller and brighter than Dizzy remembered it. The last time he had been in here, it was filled with the light of a thousand hanging lanterns. Now, with sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows above, the room was a suffuse, dry, empty thing.

As he walked over to the dais, Olivia put a hand on his arm, “My king. Are you all right?”

He looked at her and nodded, “I- Yes. I will be fine.” His discussion with King Gagan had taken so much out of him that Dizzy could feel his body relaxing into utter fatigue. His hands had begun to shake again.

Astor said, “We can skip this, if you’re not up to it.”

Wendy slapped the back of his head, “Stop it.” She looked back at Dizzy, “Was it really that bad?”

Dizzy spoke quickly, “It was fine. Thank you for asking.” He stepped up to the throne, “What are we doing here?”

Olivia replied, “Holding court. At this time every week, the king settles individual issues for the commoners.”

Dizzy sat, “I thought Cadvan didn’t like commoners.”

“Your predecessor dealt with representatives of the people. Noblemen from the community. And honestly, it was usually the noblemen’s issues he dealt with. I mean, if the local leaders can’t solve their own problems, they’re just begging to be replaced.”

“Very well. So they bring their problems to me, and like some kind of Solomon, I’m just supposed to dictate the terms of their settlement?”

Astor rolled his eyes, “Seriously, were you groomed at all for this job? Do you have any idea what a king does? Didn’t you even see a vid with a -”

“What happened to your eye, Astor?” Dizzy asked in a cold, flat voice.

Astor’s hand flew to his cheek, then he straightened. Through gritted teeth, he said, “The petitioners will be here shortly.”

He stormed off, leaving the rest of them staring at Dizzy. He didn’t like doing that, and didn’t like the way it felt. Most of all, he didn’t like the way the others looked at him. But this was the job, wasn’t it? No apologies, no permission. And if he could not get respect from the people around him, how could he command it from his people? How could he present himself among other leaders, if he couldn’t even get respect from his own people?

Dizzy looked over at Wendy. She was shaking her head, “That was… unnecessary.”

He nodded, “I won’t live my life with him insulting my every move. I have enemies enough as it is.”

She bowed her head and stepped back, “Yes, your majesty.” Something in the way she said it made Dizzy feel ashamed, but she walked away before he could respond. She and all the other wards took their seats in the common area.

People began to filter in, taking the seats provided on either side of the main hall. Dizzy recognized many of the faces from his previous life. At one time, they would have filled him with fear. But that was Dizzy. These people faced the King, and the King had no cause for fear.

Noblemen in colorful finery milled about, chatting with one another, whispering, laughing, plotting. Once the group was assembled, a host of heralds sounded their trumpets, calling for attention. Dizzy looked at Wendy, but it was Olivia who stepped forward. He hadn’t noticed her dress before, but now that he saw her standing in the light of the morning sun, with her glowing blonde hair merging into the embroidery of her mint green dress, she looked unreal. He wondered if the shimmering glow he saw was the same tech that made the golden embroidery warp itself around the cloth and make slowly shifting patterns on the dress. “His most high ruler, guardian of the people, protector of the realm, and keeper of the right, King Augustus the third welcomes you to his first day at court. All who have business before the crown shall now be heard.”

From the other side of the hall, Astor called out, “Mister Gallant Trumble, Chief of Police for New York precinct number 83.” The small, balding man stormed from the back of the room up to the throne. He was followed by a Sergeant in dress blues and a large creampuff of a woman, who made sure to catch the eye of every nobleman. She sneered at them, as if proud to take her rightful place among them.

Chief Trumble stopped short about ten meters from the throne. Dizzy raised one eyebrow at the scowl the small man wore. He was in his dress blues, a good look for most police, but his second-hand uniform was clearly the wrong size for the small man.

He growled, “Your majesty. I have been sent to represent my precinct in apologizing to you,” he took a deep breath, “here, in front of everybody.”

Dizzy waited for amplification. When none came he said, “Apologizing for what?”

The little man blinked, “For attempting to apprehend a criminal. For trying to enforce the laws that keep men from impersonating-”

Dizzy stood up suddenly, pointing at him, “You’re the one who caught me!”

Trumble blinked, his mouth a hard line, “Yes.”

Dizzy’s lips pulled back into his trademark grin as his eyes narrowed, “Yes, what?”

He saw the color rise in the man’s cheeks as he said, “Yes, your majesty.”

Dizzy sat back down slowly, “I didn’t remember you. As you may recall, I was electrocuted by your men without being read my rights, and so I was unconscious by the time you and I met.”

A sudden murmur grew among the noblemen. There were some who had been saying that the whole incident with the police was ginned up by an enthusiastic media, and that the king would never have been out among the people. They thought it impossible that the police would ever try to arrest the king, a concern which Dizzy’s outburst answered.

Trumble shrugged, “The particulars of your… apprehension were not given to me.”

Dizzy frowned down at him, “Funny word, apprehension.” He stood again, and began walking toward the man, “You are conjugating the word ‘apprehend’, but the word ‘apprehension’ has multiple meanings. It can also refer to the anxiety and fear that something bad is coming.” He stood inches away from the police chief, looking down on the man, “You weren’t trying to say that I should feel anxious about meeting you, were you?”

The small man glared up at him, “Do you suspect something bad is coming?”

Dizzy stared down at him for a long moment, then grinned again, “Not with such a stalwart band of enforcers ready to keep my laws for me. Just knowing you are out there, protecting the streets, makes us all feel better.”

Trumble smiled, ignoring the sarcasm. As close as they were, he could afford to speak softly, “Thank you, your majesty. You’ll be glad to know that I’ve already moved on to a new target.”

Dizzy raised an eyebrow and replied quietly, “Oh, and who will you be harassing next?”

Trumble looked off to one side, at a man seated in the gallery, then looked back at Dizzy, “We’re still working on that.”

Dizzy stiffened, and looked up at the gallery. He saw the huge man with the wide smile, the flashing glasses and the fur coat. Dizzy’s grin dropped away as he recognized Bedragare, and he turned back to the throne, “Your apology is accepted, Chief. Please give my regards to the Commissioner. You are dismissed.”

Astor called out, “Lord Cracknell and Lord Hurford.” Two noblemen stood up and fought to be the first to stand before the throne. One was tall and round, the other was thin and short. The short nobleman dropped to one knee as he reached the dais. The other noblemen looked at him, then back at Dizzy, nervously. He slowly descended to one knee, hobbled by his girth. The small man grinned as his opponent struggled to keep his dignity while descending to one knee. He grabbed at a railing to stabilize himself.

Dizzy took pity upon him, hoping to cut off the difficult motion and the unwarranted attention the lord was calling to it. He asked, “How can I help you, good lords?”

They both began to speak, then stopped. They looked at each other with venom in their eyes, then both began to speak again. Dizzy raised a hand to stop them and pointed at the larger man, “You first. Your name, my lord?”

The rotund man stood slowly, “I am Dennis, of the Cracknell line, and ancient and honorable family which served the crown through three wars, and gave up their own sons to the service of our nation in more than six battles between-”

Dizzy nodded, “The crown recognizes the service of your family, and thanks them for their sacrifice.” He pointed at the smaller man, “And you, sir?”

The small man bounced to his feet, “I am Marcus, of the clan Hurford. We are a young family, your majesty, who came to land and money honestly and have served the realm well in our short time among-”

“Good. Thank you. What is the issue?”

Once again, they began to talk over each other. Dizzy let it go on for a moment, hoping he could pick out pertinent points from the chaos. However, as each of them realized that the other might be better heard, they raised their voice to match volume and exceed it. In less than half a minute, they were both shouting at the top of their voices. Dizzy raised his hand again, and they both fell silent.

He pointed to Lord Cracknell and said, “It appears we shall have to take turns. You go first, my lord.”

The large man beamed, “It is quite simple, your majesty. My lands western border is defined by the Keuka river. These lands have been in my family for generations sir, and we have used the river often for recreation and sport. Recently, this man- “, he pointed at Lord Hurford, “bought up the land west of my own, and has been letting filthy animals drink and bathe in the river without restraint. Now, my family has always been tolerant of others and their needs, but I really think that-”

Dizzy raised his hand again, “Thank you, sir. I have the picture. And what of you, Lord Hurford?”

The smaller man held his hands out by his sides, “What crime is there, my lord, in grazing a herd on one’s own land? Or watering them from one’s own river. The criminal here, is this fat pastry of a man whose friends scare off my herd with their noisome rafting and carousing. They pollute the river with their drinking and refuse.”

Dizzy nodded, “I see, so how do you propose to solve this?”

“Keep his parties out of my river!”

“Keep his filthy animals from drinking my river dry!”

Dizzy shook his head, “This sounds like it should be simple. Couldn’t we set up some kind of schedule for it? Like even numbered days go to one of you, and odd numbered days go to the other?”

Lord Cracknell huffed, “The river is mine by right, your majesty. It has been for years!”

Lord Hurford shook his head, “The deed to the land says that it is bordered by the river, not bordered by the shores of the river. My claim to the water is as good as his. And how are you going to tell a herd of alpaca that they can only drink on odd-numbered days?”

Dizzy sighed, “I see. Let us go about this another way. You will both pay the crown a sum of one-hundred thousand dollars.” Both lords eyes widened, but neither stopped him, “That sum will be used for the purpose of digging two trenches which will split at the northernmost point of your lands, and rejoin at the southernmost. The sum will also be used for damming up the river at the headwaters, splitting it evenly between you. You will both give up thirty meters to either side of the river, thus guaranteeing that your lands will not overlap.”

Lord Cracknell bowed, then said, “My liege, the river is more than fifty feet wide. The strip of land between us will measure… “, he did some quick calculation, “more than 75 yards in width. Which of us will own that land?”

“I will.” Dizzy responded, “I will take ownership of it, and send surprise patrols out there. If I find livestock trespassing on my land, I will have mutton for dinner.” He paused, “I doubt the same penalty will hold for revelers, but I assure you, there will be consequences.”

They both stood before him, thinking, but neither spoke. He waited them out, then said, “If you have no further quarrels, gentlemen, I would ask you to make room for other petitioners.”

Neither one wanted to move, but they couldn’t think of an answer to the royal decree. Dizzy looked over at Astor who said, “Guards! The king has concluded his business with these gentlemen.”

At that point, the two noblemen left, frowning and muttering. Dizzy prided himself on the fact that they both seemed equally inconvenienced.

Astor called out in a voice tinged with excitement, “Your majesty, may I present Lady Kreslin, the Dowager Queen!”

Dizzy’s eyes widened as he saw the stately woman flow down the hallway toward him. She was dressed in a sedate sarong, with jewels still flashing from her brow, her ears, and her fingers. Her eyes stayed locked on Dizzy’s, betraying no emotion.

As she passed through the hall, ladies in the court curtsied. The lords and noblemen bowed slightly, and one man genuflected as she passed.

Dizzy sat perfectly still, unable to decide what he should do about this. When she reached the throne, the Dowager Queen dropped into a low curtsy, “Your eminence, it is an honor to come before you today. When I heard of your brother’s misfortune, I rushed to be by your side, and offer my paltry gifts in service.”

Dizzy found his voice, but was still unsure what to say, “The crown… ah… thanks you for your consideration. You are, of course, well known to us all, and your advice is widely sought.” His eyes narrowed slightly, “I would be very interested in hearing what advice you have for the crown today, in this time of sadness and loss.”

She spread her arms wide, “I am here to support you, your grace, in any way I can. My petty whispers have been well received by many noble houses.”

Olivia Oldham stood from her seat and called out, “House Oldham has hosted the Dowager Queen many times, and always to our benefit. She is a welcome guest in the yellow manse.”

Not to be outdone, Astor called out, “House Atherton, too, has proudly hosted Lady Kreslin, and would offer her such assistance as she would ever ask for.”

Dizzy frowned slightly. So, even mighty houses had been taken in by her con. He sighed, and rose from his seat. He walked slowly down the steps of the dais to stand before her, where she held her low curtsy. He reached out one hand to help her up, and pulled her in close.

“What are you doing here?” He hissed a whisper.

“You need me. There are many things we need to talk about,” She said softly.

“You? You’re the one who turned me in.”

She shook her head sadly, “That’s one of the things. I didn’t turn you in, and I wasn’t able to contact you before the police got you.”

“How very pretty, and very convenient.” He fought a sneer.

She looked at him again, a powerful sadness in her eyes, “I told you that night that I would not apologize.”

“You don’t need to remind me of anything about that night.”

“I’m here to apologize.” She held his hand between both of hers, “My son, you have never lived here before. You are not prepared. You’ll be eaten alive without help.”

“And when did you ever live here?” But even as he asked it, he realized the answer. A king’s doxy would naturally see the inside of a palace.

She simply answered, “We have much to talk about.”

He took a deep breath and stepped back, “Thank you, Lady Kreslin. The crown would be glad to hear your advice.”

As he turned and headed up the stairs, she replied, “Thank you, your eminence. You shall have full use of my simple knowledge at any time. And I will remain by your side here for so long as I may be of service.”

Dizzy began to ask what she meant by “here”, then it dawned on him. He looked at the beaming faces all around, and forced a smile, “The crown is glad that you would accept our offer, and I hope you will allow me to prepare a room for you here in the palace.”

She curtseyed again, “I remain your humble servant, your grace.”

The next two cases were noblemen squabbles. Dizzy tried his best to inconvenience everyone, and as little as possible. He was starting to feel hungry, and was about to ask how much longer it would take, when a commotion stirred from the back of the room.

Astor’s grin was a sneer as he said, “The criminal, Justin Coss.”

A slight boy in common garb was pulled up before him, hands zipped together. Dizzy frowned down at him and said, “So what is his story?”

The boy shook tawny hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, not normally old enough to be sentenced by the king. He said, “Same as most. Brought low by such as you, taught to nod and scrape.” He looked back at the guards who held him by the arms, “One day, a body takes to sayin’ he’s full up. He starts sayin’ ‘No’, and starts tellin’ his tale to the streets. Before you can say ‘Jack Robinson’ he’s – ”

Dizzy pointed at him excitedly, “I know that voice! You’re Jus Cos!”

The young man looked shocked, “You know me?”

Dizzy nodded, “I’ve got all your tracks! ‘Pawn Shop Martyr’ was amazing.” He caught himself and tried to play cool, “Of course, I haven’t really listened much since ‘Second-hand Gun.’ But back in the day. Wow. Remember ‘Riot of One’?”

Dizzy put a hand to his forehead, and struggled to remember the words,

“I showed up early for the riot of one.

Alone in the alleyway holdin’ my gun.

I’m the only part of the revolution

Who bothered to stand against all that they’d done”

The boy nodded and grinned wide. Dizzy was so caught up in it that he couldn’t notice the concerned murmuring from the crowd. Jus Cos began to mutter the words along with him,

“They said pretty words and mass waved the meetup

They said it’d be bloody, and we’d all get beat up.

My droogs were all screamin’ and shoutin’ and keyed up

So I grabbed my flash and said let’s turn the heat up”

The boy just kept staring, as though he thought this may be some kind of trick. Dizzy skipped down the steps to meet him, and stuck out one hand, “I’m… well. You know who I am. It’s a pleasure.”

The commoner boy took the king’s hand in his, the shackles buzzing as he did.

From behind him, Dizzy heard a hiss, “Your majesty!” When Dizzy looked, he saw Astor, white teeth glistening through his snarl. Jus Cos was famous among the commoners because his lyrics were inflammatory and called for open war against the nobility. He humiliated the noble houses with his rhymes, and they had been hunting him for years.

Dizzy sighed and nodded. He looked at the guards and said, “Jus Cos has been recording in the underground for years. How did you finally catch him?”

One of the guards said, “He turned himself in.”

Dizzy frowned, “Why?”

The other guard said, “He just showed up and told us who he was.”

The first guard said, “We thought you’d want to see him personally, given his notoriety.”

Dizzy nodded at him. In all honesty, the guard was doing him a great favor. If they’d turned him over to the police, he would have ended up with summary judgment and likely execution. By bringing him to the King, they were giving Dizzy a chance to strike a blow for nobility. They were letting him take the credit for killing a powerful protestor.

Dizzy looked back at Astor, who awaited swift justice. He turned to face Olivia, who seemed reserved, but showed no love for the prisoner. He even looked at Wendy, who showed nothing but curiosity. She was waiting to see how Dizzy handled this.

“Mister Coss.”

“Ah, yer a fan. Call me Jus.” The comment raised a bit of laughter, which was quickly silenced.

Dizzy smiled, “Jus. You’ve made a lot of people unhappy with your music, do you know that?”

He shrugged, “Only unhappy ones are those dealin’ out misery to my people.”

“I seem to recall you had some particular things to say about the prior king.”

“Nothin’ any open-eyed pleeb like myself wouldn’t viddie. Cold, vicious killer, that one.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the boy, “You’re talking about my brother.”

He could see fear in the young man’s eyes, but he didn’t look away, “If the shoe fits.”

Dizzy nodded, “You’ve also humiliated members of my noble houses. They’d very much like to see you hanged for it.”

“Warmongers and liars, the lot.”

Dizzy touched his chin with one finger, “What have you said about me personally?”

There was a brief pause, then the boy shrugged, “Don’t know you.”

“But given time, you could be just as insulting to me as you are to them.”

“If you’re as bought as your boys, sworn to needless war, then yeah. You get no quarter from this one.”

Dizzy pondered, “I wonder how that would go.” He seemed to think for a long time, pacing around the boy. “I have no head for rhymes, myself, which means I have no way of guessing what you would say without actually waiting for you to say it.”

He frowned, “It seems to me that, if I imprison you, if I behead you- ” The boy’s head whipped around to face Dizzy as the king stood behind him. “It occurs to me that I would never get to hear what you would have said about me.”

He continued his circuit around the boy and stopped directly in front of him, “Yes, I fear the crown’s curiosity has got the better of him. I must know what you would say about me.”

The boy shrugged, uncomprehending, “Told ya. I ain’t got nothin’ on you yet.”

“So honest. You wouldn’t want to make something up for us here?”

Astor shouted, “Your majesty, please. The criminal should be sentenced, not encouraged.”

Dizzy sighed, “Very well.” He stepped back up to the throne, “Justin Coss. You have been found guilty of supporting revolt against the kingdom, and distressing the nobility. You will be taken from this place to another place within the palace, where you shall be held in my custody for two days.”

The crowd seemed more outraged by the lack of punishment meted out, but as Dizzy held up one hand, they silenced, “If, at the end of that time, you cannot produce a work of sufficient quality, discussing the merits and failings of my reign, I will have your head on a spike, to be displayed on all media outlets once an hour for two days.”

The crowd now seemed impressed by his show of force. A few in the gallery laughed openly. He continued, “If you do manage to impress me with your supposed wit and skill, I may let you live.”

The boy blinked up at him, “I’m ta live here?”

“You have to learn about my administration, if you’re going to write anything useful. You will be given a guest’s amenities, so that nothing distracts you from your creative pursuits. I know how you artists are. You will give a concert in two day’s time. I will ensure that the concert is well attended, and if you fail to please me, your execution shall be just as widely viewed.”

The boy began to say something, but Dizzy waved him away. The guards pulled him him back out of the room, and Dizzy said, “I will retire now to prepare for my brother’s funeral.”

Astor took a step forward and leaned in to whisper, “Lord Valen, who was supposed to speak to you yesterday, has demanded an audience today. He waits for you to call him in.”

Dizzy frowned, “Who is this Lord Valen?”

Olivia, who had silently joined them when she recognized the huddle, said, “I checked yesterday. He is a minor noble, ruling a small set of townships in northern New York. It is not normal for such a low-born nobleman to request an audience with the king.”

Dizzy thought about all the lower noblemen who had reason to hate him. If this one had recognized him, he may be coming for blackmail. If so, the last thing Dizzy wanted to do was meet him in public. He shook his head, “Another time. We’ve got a funeral to attend.”

Olivia stood and called out in a loud, clear voice, “The crown has heard his people, and answered their concerns. If any remain unsatisfied, let him return at this time one week hence.”

As the crowd began to disperse, Dizzy exited the room, humming ‘Riot of One.’

Stan frowned, “Ah well, I suppose that’s that then.”

Lou nodded, “Nice to viddie nobs out for the justice.”

“I suppose.” They sat in the gallery, waiting for the noblemen and petitioners to clear the rows of seats so that they could leave.

Lou looked down at his friend, “You’re upset.”

Stan shrugged, “Well, It wasn’t much to ask, really.”

“Didn’t do your request.”

“Lotsa folk in that line. No shock to find I’s at the bottom of it.”

Lou nodded, then put an arm around his friend, “All the same, woulda have been nice.”

Stan looked down at the paperwork he’d brought, “Such a noble bird, that one. It deserves to be the state bird. Everyone knows it and respects it.”

“Certainly around Thanksgiving.” He shook Stan’s shoulder, “Still, the byblow king’s got lots on his plate this day.”

“This is true. Oh yes. A visit from the Dowager Queen. That’s a full day, and no mistake.”

“I seem to recall he met with her before.”

“Oh, yes, my duck. Not a few nights back, when I took you at Circus for seven games out of thirteen.”

Lou shook his head, “No. Couldn’t have been.”

“Well, five out of nine, then.”

“Ah, yes. Now that sounds more like it. We saw a boy walk into a hotel, and a king rush out.”

The two of them stared out at the middle distance for a moment, then Stan spoke up, “And yet, every other soul, walked through that door, walked out unchanged. How do you suppose that happened?”

Lou raised an eyebrow, “I do recall him using the door to enter, but he used a whole different building to leave.”

Stan nodded, “Now that’s the kind of thing that makes a king.”

Lou began quietly humming as they waited for the collected petitioners to filter out. Stan turned to frown at him, “What’s that ditty?”

“Hmmm? Oh, nothing. A song that young prisoner penned.”

“I didn’t take you for a patron of the arts.” Stan looked on Lou with renewed respect.

“Oh yes. Pa always said, if a fella can’t have breedin’, he’d better get to broadenin’ hisself.”

“Sage wisdom indeed.”

“Made me the man I am today.”

Stan looked at the grubby overalls his friend was wearing, and the dirt-smudged face, “Well, I wouldn’t hold it against him.”

“Howzat?”

Stan changed the subject, “The king seem a bit off to you?”

Lou nodded exaggeratedly, his head bobbing like an olive on a toothpick, “Hard not to notice that. Comin’ into his own, I figger.”

Stan frowned, “Whozzat mean?”

Lou sighed, “A man who finds himself king is gonna do one of two things.”

“Tell me, brother. Tell me both of them.”

“Either he’s going to turtle up and get the shell he needs to keep the world on the outside, or he’s gonna crack and get his stupid self killed.”

“That’s a dark viddie there.”

Lou shrugged, “Wish it weren’t so, but history’s a cruel loop.”

Stan looked back at the door the king had left through, “So which is the better alternative?”

Lou blinked at him, “Which one?”

Stan nodded, still looking at the door, “Which would you rather be: dead on the outside, or dead on the inside?”

Lou shook his head sadly, “Dark viddie, indeed.”

Dizzy lead the way to the dining room. His entourage of prisoners jogged along to follow him. As they caught up with him, Wendy asked, “Where are we off to now, my liege?”

The question gave Dizzy a moment’s pause. Just a day ago, he was asking them for every step. “I’m famished. The security briefing was difficult enough, but the idea that we hold court before breakfast is maddening.” He stopped suddenly, and turned to face all of them, “You realize that it affects one’s moods, don’t you? I mean, not getting a proper meal at the beginning of the day can make a person irritable, unfocused, more likely to make mistakes.” Wendy nodded along with him as he said, “If Cadvan was holding court before he had breakfast, it’s no wonder the people hated him.”

His whole entourage gasped, and Astor took a step back, “Ah, your majesty, no one hated Cadvan.”

Dizzy cocked his head to one side, “Seriously? He was surrounded by sycophants and prisoners all the time. He refused to let a commoner near him. He’s got us involved in multiple, pointless wars, and-”

Olivia stepped forward and slipped an arm into his, pulling him gently toward the dining room, “My, but I do believe you’re right, your grace. Missing proper meals can make a body quite upset. And more likely to make mistakes.”

Astor and Wendy fell into step behind them. Astor grabbed her arm, “Did you hear that? We need to tell someone.”

“Keep your mouth shut, lordling.” She said through gritted teeth.

Astor’s eyes widened as he hissed, “Do you jest even now? What he said was treason!”

“The king cannot commit treason, by definition.”

Astor shook his head, “Someone has to be told.”

Wendy dropped her head and scowled, “Tell Dunem, then, if it is your wish. Let him come to us, and we’ll tell him that an up-jumped child has been spinning tales out of envy over another’s position.”

He held his tongue for a moment, then said, “You love him, don’t you? That’s what this is really about.”

She rolled her eyes, “If you could, for one brief moment, see how twisted and pathetic you’ve become with this lust for power, you would break down crying in shame.”

“My father is the rightful king. Everyone knows it. All of parliament is gathering behind him.”

“Your father is an abusive clothes horse who uses media slander to blackmail politicians.”

“And your father is a vicious killer who only limits himself to the game he doesn’t molest.”

She turned and slapped him. The sound was a whip crack in the hollow hall, bringing the whole procession to a stop. Dizzy turned to face her, a sad look in his eye, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Stay out of it!” She shouted, then realized what she’d done. One hand flew to her mouth as Dizzy shook his head.

He said, “If you’d slapped the other side, you could have evened out his bruises.”

They all stared at him, and Dizzy could feel their shock. He could feel it inside himself. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t light-hearted, and it certainly wasn’t like him. He felt something grab him deep in his throat. Dizzy raised his clenched fists to press against his closed eyes.

Dizzy sighed without looking up, “My brother’s funeral is today. I never met him, and yet I was perfectly fine with insulting him personally.”

He took another breath and lowered his hands, “Astor loves his father, and his fervor turns to acid. Even you Wendy.” He looked at her with sad eyes, “I thought you to be one of the sweet ones. Even you have a vicious side, when provoked.” He looked at Olivia, “What about you? Where is your breaking point?”

Astor sneered, “Ask her about her-” His mouth snapped shut as Olivia shot him the most powerful look of pure hate Dizzy had ever seen on a woman.

The king nodded, “So we all have that point. And this change has been hard on us all. There’s nothing in the world that could keep us from destroying the monarchy with bitter recrimination and infighting.”

He felt tired and old and worn out. He was younger than some of his entourage, but they all looked like children to him. The police chief was talking to Bedragere. The people counted on him to deal with foreign powers and undefined wars. Dunem was controlling the administration, and Dizzy wasn’t even sure if that was a bad thing. Everyone around him was ready to lash out, if given the right trigger. And most of all, he couldn’t trust anyone.

The king leaned his head back, stretching and breathing in as much as he could. In a low voice, he said, “There’s nothing that could stop us from destroying the monarchy.” He arched his back for a moment, then snapped forward. His arms flung wide, his eyes sparkling, and his grin wide, “Nothing except me.”

They all looked with a mix of horror and fascination as he walked around them. He fed on their shock. “You see, I’m not like you. Not any of you. I never have been. I’ve lived a dozen strange and beautiful lives. I’ve walked among commoners, and strode alongside nobility. Merchants have spit on me as I begged for food, and noblemen have fought for the right to buy me a drink. Fathers have introduced me to their daughters, while others chased me out of their bedrooms. I am the hero and the wallflower, the artful dodger and the boy who would never grow up. I am not King Cadvan’s successor, I am Disraeli Augustus McCracken the third, and I will never be a proper king. From here on out, I don’t want you to call me King Augustus. I want you to call me Dizzy.”

Astor’s face screwed up in a disgusted frown, “Merchants spit on you?”

Dizzy grinned. “Except you. You don’t get to call me Dizzy. You may address me as ‘Your Supreme Eminence’, ‘my liege’, ‘your grace’, or ‘majesty’. Now where’s my runner?”

Olivia blinked, “Your what?”

“Runner. Gofer. Where’s the person who gets what I want done?”

Wendy piped up, “Oh, today that would be Charles.” She turned back the way they had come, but a small boy was already running over to them. He was a thin boy of not more than ten years, with long blonde hair that hung in front of his face. A single braid ran down the length of his hair.

He stopped in front of Dizzy and dropped into a deep bow, “Your majesty.”

Dizzy put a hand on each of his shoulders and lifted him up, throwing an arm around him, “Charles, I want you to run to the chef and tell him we’ve yet to eat, and I’m thinking Parisian. Then I want you to find my m-” Dizzy’s mouth snapped shut. He caught himself before saying, “my mother”. Was that something that needed to be a secret? Did he care who knew? Did she?

Just to be safe, he said, “My good friend, the Dowager Queen, and ask her if she would be kind enough to join us for breakfast. Once you’ve done that, find out where they’ve quartered that commoner, Justin Coss. Tell him that his presence is requested in the dining room, and that he will be expected to join us at today’s funeral.”

Astor stepped forward, “My liege, no!”

“My liege yes! I want him to sit there, in a room full of people who knew the man my brother was, and make him listen to the kind words said about him. I want him in the velos with us, watching as people mourn the passing of their ruler.”

Astor’s mouth opened and closed reflexively, but no more words came out. Dizzy’s grin turned back to the child, “Did you get all that?”

The boy blinked once, then said, “Tell the chef that you will be dining immediately, and you want Parisian food. Ask the Dowager Queen to join you, and tell the prisoner to come along.”

Dizzy nodded, “I expect the food to be ready for us by the time I get there.” He clapped Charles on the back and watched the boy run off. “All right, off we go, then.”

Astor folded his arms over his chest, “I won’t sit at table with a man who sings of treason and rebellion.”

Dizzy nodded once, “The table will be poorer for the loss. Don’t worry though. You can sit in your room until you’re old enough to obey the will of your king. Guards?”

Astor held his hands up as a guard stepped forward, out of the shadows. The lordling said, “No, no. There’s no need for that.”

Dizzy nodded to the guard and said, “Very well. This way.”

As the others jogged to keep up with him, Wendy asked, “How did you know which way to go? I thought you were lost in the palace.”

Dizzy nodded, “That’s why I sent Charles after the chef first.” Dizzy’s eyes sparkled, “He went this way.”

—

By the time Dizzy reached the table, it was completely covered in steaming food. A girl ran to pull out Dizzy’s chair before he could do it himself, and another began to fill the plate for him. There were eggs with black truffles, honeyed fruit salad, crepes in salted butter caramel, belgian waffles, and more.

Dizzy poked at one slice of bread with his fork and held it in the air, “I like this. A chef with a sense of humor.”

Astor frowned at it, “What is it?”

Wendy giggled, “French toast.”

Dizzy put it back down and began cutting into it, “I’m just surprised he had the temerity to serve us Belgian waffles.”

The room fell silent as everyone realized the chef’s faux pas. Dizzy chewed contemplatively as he looked at their worried faces. He stood suddenly, pushing the chair back with a loud screech. In a booming voice, he shouted, “Ladies and gentlemen!”

They all looked up at him as he held his knife in the air before him. He waited until the shuffling died down and all eyes were on him. He could hear them breathing. He held the moment, then said, “Lighten… Up.”

He stepped one foot up onto his chair, and the other foot onto the table next to his plate. In the back of the room, Dizzy saw his mother enter, flanked by two large men. She stopped at the doorway and stared at him, snapping a fan open in her hand. He grinned, “For my entire reign, I have been told what I am needed to do, what I am allowed to do, and what I am required to do.”

Behind his mother, Dizzy saw Lord Dunem walk in, his eyes wide. Dizzy hadn’t seen him in here before, and wondered idly whether he was checking on rumors that the king had started acting oddly. Dizzy continued, “I’ve been told that by serious people who know what they’re doing, and I’ve accepted it. But I haven’t been learning how to be a king.”

He looked directly at Lord Dunem, “No. I think I’ve been learning how to be Cadvan. I’ve been seeing his responsibilities, his idiosyncracies, and I’ve been challenged to continue his reign. Well, I won’t do it.”

From another door, near the middle of the room, Justin Coss walked in, flanked by two guards. He saw Dizzy standing in his chair, and raised a curious eyebrow. Dizzy continued, “I am not Cadvan, and never will be. I will serve my people, and I will keep our laws, but I will not be the humorless cadaver that my brother was.” There was a collected gasp, but Dizzy raised both his hands, “I beg your pardon. The cadaver that he still is.”

Jus Cos barked laughter, but no one else said anything. Dizzy pointed at him, “Thank you sir. Tough room.” He looked back at the others, “Right now, Lord Atherton is doing his best to discredit me, and I don’t think anything I do can help or hinder that. If I am the best possible ruler, he will still call me illegitimate. So, nothing I do can really affect that.” He waggled the knife in the air, “This does not constrain me to be careful with each step. Rather, from another viewpoint, it frees me to be as mad as I wish to be. Nothing I do, within reason, will make me any less valid. So, I intend to be mad; at least, a little bit. I’ve seen how Cadvan ruled, and I’ve seen how he lived.”

Dizzy frowned a bit and cradled his chin in his knife hand, “I will not be the same kind of ruler, and I will make mistakes. I’ve already lost one city, and made a devil’s deal to get it back. So clearly my reign is a work in progress. Many of you have offered to be advisors to me. Well, unfortunately, I’m going to take you up on that, and what’s more, I’m going to make it voluntary.”

Most of the people in the room frowned, uncomprehending. Lord Dunem, on the other hand, began walking to the head of the table, “My liege, if I may have a moment of your time-”

Dizzy pointed the knife at Astor, “You! Atherton. Here’s your chance. I release you from my custody.”

Lord Dunem interrupted more strenuously, “Your majesty. If I may-”

Astor blinked at him, so Dizzy continued, “This is no jest. If you wish to, you may pack your belongings and head home today. You, Lady Oldham, I give you your freedom. Lady Wilde, I will not keep you here under duress.”

The king’s chief of staff stopped at his seat and waited, looking out over the room full of children. Dizzy continued, “For various diverse reasons, I’m going to keep all the little ones with me until we can make arrangements with their parents, but you three are of an age where you should control your own lives, and I will not be-”

Wendy cut him off, “I want to see my father.”

Dizzy paused, “Ah, well, yes. Of course. You may-”

“Whenever I wish, I will visit my father.”

Dizzy shook his head, “No, you don’t understand. You’re free now. You may see him as often as you’d like.”

She put a fork in a crepe, “Then I will accept your offer to stay.”

Dizzy blinked at her for a moment, then turned to the yellow lady, “Olivia, what say you?”

“Honestly, I’m hurt, your majesty.”

Dizzy gaped, “I’m sorry. I only meant to-”

“No man who has ever had me has willingly let me go.”

Dizzy stuttered, “Ah, my lady, I’m sure I never -”

He looked in surprise as a wicked grin grew over her face, “Clearly, I have lost my touch, and must remedy that. I won’t leave until you’re begging me to stay.”

Dizzy’s grin matched hers, “Dear lady, I look forward to-”

He was cut off by the loud sound of a woman clearing her throat. The Dowager Queen continued her entrance, picking the seat next to Astor. There was no chair next to him, but as she indicated where she wished to sit, one immediately became available, “Really. Such manners for lords and ladies! I see I have arrived just in time. Like blushing schoolchildren, I declare.”

Dizzy stared at her for a long moment, then said, “Thank you Lady Kreslin.” He turned to Astor, “And what about you? I’m surprised you haven’t sprinted up to your room and started packing already.”

Astor looked down at his plate, frowning, then faced Dizzy, “I can’t let house Atherton be the only one not represented in the palace.”

Dizzy pictured him going home and explaining to Lord Atherton why he was the only hostage considered unworthy enough to be returned. “Very well. Let us be clear. Everyone here, save the small children, are here by their own free will.”

Jus Cos raised a hand to get the king’s attention. Dizzy pointed at him, “Clearly, Mr. Coss wishes to be counted among the small children.” He waved the young man in, “Come join us Mr. Coss. We were just embarking on a Parisian repaste.” Dizzy jumped down from his perch and began walking alongside the table. “So here I have my advisors. Three ex-hostages, each looking out for their own house, one woman of… undisclosed powers, and a prisoner who has cause to make me look good despite his every scruple. Quite an odd company that.”

Astor leaned back in his chair and shook his head, “What’s the point? Where do you go with a group like that?”

Dizzy threw his arms wide, “Today, we go to a funeral.”

Invito Rex – Chapter 9

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“As this text is focussed upon the reign of King Augustus, we will spend little time on the Gray Goo Diaspora. However, it is important for the student to understand the context of the time, so that the King’s actions may be better understood.

Nanotech is the study and development of microscopic machines, capable of performing simple tasks at an atomic level. The use of Nanotech was prevalent in 2440, in pollution control, security systems, fashion, and construction.

The Nanotech lab HFP (hijos fuertes pequeños) was engaged in military exercises with nanomites capable of repairing each other on the battlefield, using nothing more than the carbon atoms in the area. It was not uncommon at the time to build nanomites capable of replicating themselves, with strict life clocks. When a nanomite’s life clock ran down, it would cease to function, and be nothing more than a dust mote. One batch of 300, a prototype set, was set up to vary its life clock based upon the population, to ensure that the nanomite count remained static. However, a divide error inadvertently set them to a life clock of −32768 years, an impossible number to reach. As such, the nanomites were capable of replicating without any enforced expiration.

The diminutive robots replicated at an exponential rate, faster than the lab could contain it. Within hours, they had converted all carbon-based matter in the area into nanomites, including all the people in the lab and the lab itself. There were so many of the microscopic robots that they congealed into one large, slow-moving mass that ate itself and everything around it. In the space of a day, the “gray goo” covered most of Mexico, and was spreading into the ocean. The mass extended nearly half a mile into the ground around the lab before it was contained.

A chemical substance was developed that caused the gray goo to cannibalize itself, replicating only by taking pieces from other nanomites. This stopped the spread of the goo, but it took nearly a week to distribute the chemicals across the entire perimeter of the goo. After that, bulldozers and flamethrowers slowly pushed back the goo.

Three major cities were lost, in addition to half of the capital, leaving the country a barren wasteland of knee-deep silt. It was years before people noticed that the land beneath the goo had been stripped and saturated, and that the silt was far more fertile than before. Mexico quickly became one of the chief sources of food production, once irrigation and settlements could be instituted.

But they also found other changes in the land. One of the most popular was the development of the Root. It was a naturally-occurring drug that grew in the gray silt. Cuttings could grow in just about any other type of land, able to withstand punishing temperature ranges, and an extreme lack of hydration. The Root grew only in the ground, and offshoots that reached above the surface quickly died and became “Root Handles.” The plant itself had almost no useful properties other than a basic euphoria that happened when people chewed it.

The Root, distributed as a drug, was an utter failure. Because it could grow anywhere, it was impossible to regulate through pricing. Drug lords found no buyers, because everyone could provide it. The effects of the drug were generally seen as benign, and medically beneficial in some cases. It made the user feel happy, content with the world. Some duchies encouraged its use, after noting that it made their workers more pliable.

It was during the reign of King Augustus the Third that the Root prohibition was first instituted, a move that many have said caused the second civil war.”

- An excerpt from “His Perilous Majesty: the life of King Augustus the Third” by Professor Scott Osborn, PHD

—

Dizzy awoke early the next morning, partially out of anticipation for the security briefing, and partially out of dread for the same.

He was washed before his handlers entered, and was a little unnerved that they walked in without announcement. Astor and Wendy found him standing at the wardrobe wearing nothing but a towel. The nobleman of the day stood in the doorway agape.

“Again,” Dizzy frowned, “I would prefer my privacy to be interrupted by request only. In short, knock first.”

The young nobleman immediately turned and scuttled out, shutting the door from the outside. Dizzy expected a knock, but Astor continued as though nothing had happened. He surprised Dizzy by responding, “Yes, your majesty.”

His supplication was so immediate, Dizzy was unsure how to continue. Astor walked past him saying, “Please allow me to select your clothes for the day.” As he passed, Dizzy saw an angry red spot underneath one eye.

Wendy walked silently over to the bed and began removing the sheets. Dizzy caught her eye, then jerked his head toward Astor in confusion. She closed her eyes and shook her head sadly.

Dizzy nodded and turned back to Astor, “Ah, yes. Very well. I was thinking of something in green. Green has always been a good color for my complexion and hair.”

Astor nodded and removed a black suit, “I believe this would fit the day better, sir.”

Dizzy raised an eyebrow, “Black? Not quite what I would have chosen.”

Astor looked down at the ground, “Perhaps your majesty would prefer to begin the day wearing something else, then change just before the funeral.”

“Oh, yes. Good point. No, I’m not the clothes horse type. I’ll stick with the black.” He looked up at himself in the mirror, “You know, I never met him.”

Astor looked up at him, “Never?”

“No. I couldn’t really-” He turned to see them both staring, and sighed, “It’s complicated.” He turned to Wendy, “What was Cadvan like? I mean, as a person?”

Wendy frowned and looked out the window, weighing her words carefully. Astor surprised Dizzy again by saying, “He was a good king.”

Dizzy turned to him, and Astor nodded, “We were the closest Cadvan had to friends, and yet we all knew we were brought to be sacrificed.” Astor frowned, but Dizzy knew it wasn’t directed at him. “We were given up as sacrifices, and even if we wanted to forget it, Cadvan never could.”

Wendy said, “He was closer to us than any in the world, but he was still lonely. I don’t believe I ever saw him relax.” She took a deep breath, “He was kind, in his way. Very charitable, so long as everyone recognized his charity. He was popular amongst the nobility, which is, after all, the only thing that matters for a king.” Wendy’s eyes widened suddenly, and she apologized, “That was unfair, my liege. I’m sorry.”

Dizzy raised a hand, “No, it’s all right. I want to know.”

Astor shrugged, “Everyone knows Cadvan hated the commoners. It’s the worst-kept secret in the kingdom. The fact is, he wanted everyone to like him, but he didn’t want to like anyone.”

Wendy said in a small voice, “He told me once that to love someone is to open yourself up to pain and loss. I’d always wondered where he learned that.”

“I learned it when I was seven.” Dizzy looked back at the mirror, “So, did he look anything like me?”

Astor cocked his head to one side appraisingly, “The nose is similar, and your cheekbones are the same. His complexion was darker, and his hair as well.” He squinted at Dizzy, “And there’s something in the eyes.”

Wendy nodded, “Definitely. It’s a hardness or something. He used to use that look when he had to force someone’s hand.”

Dizzy opened his eyes wide in the mirror, “A hardness?”

“Well. Call it determination. The steel will of a leader.”

Astor sighed, “Call it what it is.” He frowned up at Dizzy, “Power.”

The entourage fell in behind Dizzy as he strode purposefully into the briefing room. He had left early, intending to be the first to arrive. Instead, the doors opened onto a madhouse of activity. There was a din of rustling paper, shouted conversations and the pounding of fists on the large, central table. People in expensive suits were hunched over terrain holograms. Men in military formal dress were shouting into comms. A porter pushed past Dizzy in his haste to deliver a message.

The king stood shocked, his train of hostages looking just as surprised as he was. Dizzy turned to Olivia, “Is this normal?”

She shook her head, her voice a whisper in the noise, “I’ve never been allowed to see this.”

Lord Dunem was in all of the groups, gliding easily from one crisis to the next. Each time one of the groups started to shout or lose focus, he stepped up to the crowd and made them report. A few words would send them back into a huddle to amplify an answer or try some new angle on the problem.

Lord Dunem saw the King, and moved over to him. The barest crease between his eyebrows gave away his concern, “Your Majesty. Today may not be the best day to begin your introduction to the security briefing.”

Dizzy’s eyes were wide as he surveyed the chaos, but he shook his head, “No. I should be here. I should be a part of… ah…”

Lord Dunem nodded, “Of course, sir. Very good. If I may remind you, though-” he slid behind Dizzy, closing the door between them and the outside hallway. Before Dizzy realized his entourage was on the other side of the door, Lord Dunem said, “This is a secure area, sir. I’m afraid those children are not allowed access to this information.”

Dizzy nodded up at him slowly. He worried about calling them “children.” Olivia was a couple years older than he was, but that seemed like a small detail in comparison to the crisis going on in the room. He turned to Dunem, “What’s happening in here?”

“I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of a difficult night. We have been burning the midnight oil on a few ah- ” he groped for the word, “disguised opportunities.”

Dizzy nodded, “Calamities.”

“Well, that may be overstating it a bit.” He raised his hands and clapped them twice. The sound was small and sharp in the room, but it cut through the noise like scissors through silk. All heads turned to face them, and the military personnel snapped to attention. Those who had been sitting now stood quickly, smoothing their suits.

Lord Dunem gestured to Dizzy, “Allow me to walk you around the room.”

Dizzy nodded and waved to the collected cabinet, “As you were.” He followed along behind Lord Dunem. As the discussions resumed, the volume level rose again to its previous pitch. Large, heavily decorated officers were shouting at one another like college professors arguing a point of philosophy. Dizzy was nervous even to be in the room, but he didn’t dare back out now. This was the job. It wasn’t eating fish on camera, and it wasn’t playing Circus. This was what being King was really about. He had to be the one to make the decisions.

Lord Dunem brought him over to a large group clustered around the head of the boardroom table. Dizzy recognized General Elling, and nodded to him. When the general saw him, he stopped mid-sentence and snapped to attention. The others around him followed suit as he said, “Your majesty.”

Lord Dunem said, “The king has not been briefed on this situation yet.”

General Elling said, “Understood.” He turned to Dizzy, “Sir. The prince of Nepal has disappeared.”

Dizzy blinked, “I wasn’t aware that Nepal had an aristocracy.”

The general continued as though he hadn’t heard, “Prince Raju, son of King Gagan, was last seen around o-seven-thirty yesterday local time.”

“So, that was about a day ago?”

“Two days now, sir.”

Dizzy nodded, then shook his head, “No. I’m sorry. I don’t understand. The Prince has only been gone a day?”

One of the other officers spoke up, “I’m sure your majesty is aware that Nepal is a key staging area for hopper bombing runs on Southern Sino borders and Middle Eastern targets.”

“I – yes.” This was the job. Dizzy could feel sweat in his hands, so he crossed his arms over his chest and held his palms against the black material of his shirt, “Of course. But the King is still in power. Are we worried that the Prince was kidnapped?”

The group looked around at each other, then General Elling responded, “We’re not ready to make that determination yet, sir. However, we know this is not a mistake.”

“How do you mean?”

“Nepal is a diplomatic ally, and we watch over our friends. We had people in the palace keeping the prince under constant guard. We know that he was in the dining room one minute, then gone the next.”

“So, whatever has happened was deliberate.”

“Yessir. Intel is sketchy at the moment, but we have boots on the ground, looking for him.”

“Do you know whether he was a willing participant?”

Another look around. One of the lieutenants walked away from the table, whispering into a comm system. General Elling replied, “We do not have that information at this time.”

Dizzy nodded, “Right. Okay.” He tried to think of something to say, “How is the King taking this?”

“He is upset sir, but has shown no indication that he intends to change our relationship there. There has been no ransom demand, no sign of violence. He is a careful man, sir, and not likely to jump at shadows.”

“Very good. Um, keep me posted as the situation changes. Also,” he turned to Lord Dunem, “I’d like to speak with King Gagan.”

The tall man raised one eyebrow, “My liege, it has been my intent to keep the news of King Cadvan’s death as closely guarded as possible. The news of your regency may not have reached Nepal.”

Dizzy frowned for a moment. He knew Dunem was playing a careful game, and he knew how bad communication was during wartime, but he simply hadn’t thought that it could be this bad. It seemed incredible that other world leaders would not know about Cadvan’s death yet, or that they would not accept his credentials.

He nodded to Lord Dunem, “Please inform King Gagan of my position, and send him my compliments.”

Lord Dunem nodded, “It will be done, my liege.” He turned back to General Elling, “If there is nothing else, the King’s time is precious gentlemen.” He gestured Dizzy on to the next group.

Dizzy leaned in and whispered to Dunem, “Was that all right?”

“What, sir?”

He jogged a head back at General Elling, “Did I do all right there? I mean, ask the right questions, make the right move?”

“Ah, well, there’s only one way to find out, sir.”

Dizzy considered that as Lord Dunem caught the eye of the leader of another group. They dropped their shouting match long enough to look at Dizzy and snap to attention.

He waved it away, not waiting for Dunem this time, “As you were. What’s the situation here?”

One of the group said, “Lord Atherton has introduced legislation which would label the Root as a controlled substance.”

Dizzy frowned. He’d heard of the Root, although he’d never tried it himself. It was a naturally occurring drug that flourished in areas where the gray goo had decimated the land.

And now, apparently, Lord Atherton wanted to outlaw it.

Dizzy shrugged, “That’s hardly a serious suggestion, isn’t it? I mean, the drug itself is available nearly everywhere.”

The speaker for the group said, “He has serious financial backing from several major pharmaceutical companies.”

Dizzy raised an eyebrow, “They want to outlaw the Root so they can make it themselves?”

“Not exactly, your majesty. They wish to make it a controlled substance so that it can be safely administered and regulated.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, “So what are the ramifications of that kind of move?”

“Assuming that this law passes, labeling it a controlled substance would make it illegal to possess or distribute without proper legal authorization.”

Dizzy grinned, “But that’s ridiculous. There’s millions of people who use that stuff for winding down at the end of the day. I mean, if it were Glow or something, I could understand it. That’s something you can handle with police. But it would be a tactical nightmare to outlaw a naturally-growing plant that thousands of people already have.”

The speaker took a deep breath, “Well, to handle this in a civil manner, the first step would be amnesty. The government would allow people a few months to a year, for them to turn over their illegal substances. After that time, it would be enforcement by observation. If the police see someone chewing Root, they would take them aside and fine them. After that, more stringent requirements would be made. People would be asked to support the police in tracking their infringing neighbors. Fines would be replaced by jail time and indentured servitude.”

Dizzy frowned, “That still sounds like an incredible waste of energy just to stop people from growing a bloody plant. What do we gain from this?”

“I beg your pardon, majesty?”

“What is the point of regulating this plant?”

One of the civilian advisors who’d been watching quietly said, “It’s a mind-altering drug. We don’t know the affects on all people’s chemistry. Any mind-altering drug is a danger to society because we don’t know enough about the human mind. Someone could have an adverse reaction, endangering the lives of others.”

Dizzy shook his head, “I’ve seen that happen with Glow or Cloud if you get enough of it, but I’ve never heard of Root doing that.”

“It is precisely because we don’t know all the details that this needs to be curtailed until all the effects are known.”

Dizzy sighed, “Has a single person ever had an adverse reaction which hurt or killed anyone?”

The civilian frowned, “We don’t have numbers on that yet. That’s why Lord Atherton thinks it is best to get this under control while we still can.”

“We’re talking about something people put in their tea, something they bake into their sweetmeats. Now we’re talking about filling our prisons with these people. It would be an incredible expense and a logistical nightmare.”

Lord Dunem cleared his throat, “It is possible, my liege, that Lord Atherton is aware of this, and is suggesting that the crown take on this duty. Only your majesty has the power to enforce such an act.” Though it was couched in layers of polite advice, Dizzy heard the warning.

The civilian advisor said, “If pharmaceutical companies are backing this, it is possible they are prepared to provide a synthesized version of the Root. One which has been studied and proven to be safe.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed again, “So Atherton makes the natural Root illegal, the pharmaceutical companies charge people for a fake, and then Atherton makes a killing by selling people a substance they could have made on their own.”

They all stared at him, waiting. Dizzy took a deep breath and asked, “So, who here thinks this has nothing to do with the Root? Who thinks this is really about Atherton wanting a fight?”

The civilian advisor said, “There is a health risk question, sir. Outside of the finances and politics, there is an obligation to keep the people safe.”

Dizzy took a moment to think about that, then said, “Keep working on it, but for the moment, my stance is that I’ll wait for them to introduce the law before I involve myself in it. At that time, I’ll decide upon enforcement. Of course, by that time, I will know which members of Parliament supported this.”

There was a general gasp from the group as Dizzy walked away. Lord Dunem hurried to catch up with him, “That may not have been a politic move, sir. You announced a very unpopular strategy before any move needs to be made.”

Dizzy nodded, “Yes. And Atherton’s lick-spittle heard me.”

“That’s Mr. Ethan Kruger-McEwen. He is a key civilian contact between Parliament and the crown.”

Dizzy said, “Ashford, look back at him. If I’m right, he’s on his comms right now.”

The old man’s eyes flicked to him and back, “You are correct, your majesty.”

“From his arguments, I would guess that he’s currently waving Lord Atherton.” Dizzy sighed, “I’d like to keep him away from any subject other than our dealings with Parliament.”

Lord Dunem nodded slowly, “It will be done, your majesty.”

“If we hear massive consternation from Parliament, we’ll know that they are taking it seriously. In fact, we should get a better idea for how serious they are about this law, and who is on which side.”

“Yes, your majesty. If I may, sir, I believe you may be wrong about Lord Atherton’s motives.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, your majesty, it occurs to me that the major result of the drug is a euphoria that makes the user more pliant and at ease.”

“Yes, that’s how it was explained to me.”

Lord Dunem’s brow creased just a little, “It seems to me that, if I were an employer, I would want to give my employees a drug that made them more pliant. It would cut down on disgruntled workers, ensure longer hours, and bolster profits.”

Dizzy stopped in mid-stride, “So, the pharmaceutical companies are hoping to sell to corporate interests?”

“It is possible, sir, that they want to limit access to workers who are on the job. If your people were happy and plaint only when they were at work, they would be more likely to do good work.”

Dizzy stared at the floor for a moment, frowning. He took a deep breath and said, “This changes nothing. My stance remains the same.” He took a step forward, then stopped again, “But if you could, start asking around to see what corporations are already discussing this with the pharmaceutical companies.”

“Very good, sir.”

In the back of the room, a clatch of servicemen stood around a map of Venice. Lord Dunem asked, “How are things here, gentlemen?”

They snapped to attention, then the senior officer, a young man with dark red hair and bright freckles, spoke up, “Sir. We have assets in the area, and are prepared for a ground assault with hopper backup.”

“The King has not been briefed.”

“Yes sir.” The man turned to face Dizzy, “Two days ago, intel discovered a genetic weapon was being developed in Venice. It has now escaped, and is damaging the countryside.”

Dizzy raised a hand to stop him, “Wait. A what?”

“A genetic weapon, sir. A creature whose original genetic structure has been altered for military purposes.”

“And what was the original creature?”

The freckled man blinked at him, “I’m not sure I understand the question, sir.”

“Before they started monkeying with it’s genetic structure, what was it? What was the base animal?”

“I think I understand now, sir. There was no one basic animal that we can discern. As near as we can tell, this creature was cut from whole cloth. It was designed and developed by taking elements of multiple other creatures, and turning it into one huge, fast, dangerous creature.”

Dizzy nodded mutely. In his experience, all chimeras were creatures made by taking aspects of one and adding it to another. The idea that a creature could be evenly split among multiple sources seemed disturbing. He asked, “Which animals were used to create this weapon?”

The officer shook his head, “We don’t have that information, sir.”

“How are you able to be so specific about it’s construction then? Do we have a man on the inside there?”

“No, sir. We are getting this mostly through satellite imagery and men standing just outside the limits of the city.” Dizzy saw a looping holo of a creature jumping across rooftops. The view was from the top down, so all they could make out was a dark shape running.

“Outside the city? What is our relationship with Venice?”

“At the moment, sir, they have not declared an alliance. Italy is a warzone right now, sir, with factions taking different sections every day. Venice is surrounded by different factions, and they’re using that position as a deterrent against any one side taking them over.”

“And that’s why all of our information comes from outside. So how are we getting this chimera theory?”

“Spies in the area have been talking about Venice working on a kind of super soldier. A creature that would be able to protect not only Venice, but all of Italy.”

“So when you saw this thing, you assumed it was the rumored project.”

The freckled man stood straighter, “Yes, my liege. We used our best intel to arrive at a determination fitting the facts. Since it escaped from its enclosure, the creature has scaled walls, run over rooftops, and dropped into the venetian lagoon beneath. Power has been cut in several large neighborhoods. We believe it was responsible for the sinking of three buildings.”

“But you can’t be sure of that, because we don’t have people underwater.”

“Exactly, sir. We only know that it jumped into the water, the police surrounded the area, and then the buildings began to fall.”

“Any casualties?”

The man shrugged, “Sir, this creature has been throwing thirty-foot boats at the police. It has sunk populated buildings, and run through several security officer units, not to mention whatever it did while escaping its enclosure. We can’t confirm any deaths, but it would seem unwarranted to assume that there have been no deaths.”

Dizzy nodded, “What are we doing?”

“Just waiting on your decision, sir. We have the second, fifth, and twenty-third in the area,” he indicated different points surrounding Venice on the map, “as well as the 257th sub group,” he pointed at an icon in the Laguna Veneta. “We have the firepower to enter the city and corner the creature, but not enough to hold the city.”

Another advisor spoke up, “Also, that would constitute an act of war with a power that has not allied against us.”

Dizzy nodded, “How are we with other factions in the area?”

The freckled officer spoke up again, “The Germans wouldn’t like it, but they have very little interest in Venice. The Spanish would be up in arms, but they’ve already joined the Russians, so their actions would be dictated by Moscow. The British wouldn’t care one way or the other. Switzerland may be the most upset about it, but their forces are spread out fighting a three-front war.”

“And the Italians?”

There was a short pause, then one of the other advisors said, “At this point, with all the divisions, there really aren’t any Italians anymore.”

Dizzy took a deep breath, “So who’s in control there? Who is it that’s been telling them to stay neutral?”

“Believe it or not, sir. It’s the mayor of the town.”

Dizzy blinked at him, as one corner of his mouth raised slowly, “Very well, contact the mayor of Venice, send him my compliments and ask if there is anything we can do about a recent power loss in the area. Inform him that we have specialists who would be able to deal with the specific causes of his blackout.”

Freckles stood straight, “Yes sir.”

Lord Dunem looked around at the collected clatches of people and said, “I believe that is all that needs your attention at the moment.”

Dizzy looked over the same tableau, “It seems like we haven’t scratched the surface yet.”

Dunem nodded, “This is true. However, I think you’ve addressed those issues which have the most pressing need.” He began to lead Dizzy back to the boardroom entrance.

Dizzy could still hear them, arguing over things he would have to learn about. The budget, royal subsidies, taxation, rising statism, rebellions, starvation. Soldiers were fighting all over the world, fighting for his country, and he still didn’t know where they all were.

His hands began to shake, so he laced his fingers together behind his back and held on tight as he followed Lord Dunem, “So tell me. Did I do all right?”

The lord raised an eyebrow, “My liege?”

“I mean, did I do what Cadvan would have done? Did I- “, he shrugged, “Did I do the right things? I mean, I still don’t know enough about-”

A young man called out, “Your majesty?”

Dizzy turned to see a lieutenant, gesturing at the comms holo, “King Gagan, as you requested.”

Dizzy froze, staring at the image of a regally-dressed old man, sitting in one corner. He felt strong hands take his shoulders as Lord Dunem turned him away from the door.

“One moment, please.” He began leading Dizzy to an adjoining office. The king was too nervous to form a protest.

As they entered the office, Dunem closed the door behind them and said, “You spineless little mouse. Never do that again.”

“I- what?” Dizzy blinked at him.

The tall man towered over him, forcing Dizzy to look up and take a step back, “You are the king now. You do not ask for permission, you do not ask for forgiveness.” His voice was measured, even, and yet it hit Dizzy with the power of thunder from a distant hill, “If it was just you and your wards, I could allow you the time to find out for yourself. If it was just among your noblemen, I could cover for the mistake. But you are about to speak to a king, and I have no more time to wait.”

Dunem pointed, “Outside that door, a king waits. Not a child who is trying to feel his way around new surroundings. That man is a king, and has been for most of his life. He knows how a king acts; He knows how to exploit the weakness in others for the good of his people. We need him, yes. We work with him, yes. But we never forget that he is not our friend.”

Dizzy nodded mutely, his arms crossing over his chest. He thought about the people who were counting on him to retain that land. It was a staging area for multiple battles. If he couldn’t provide that support for his people, there would be deaths. A foreign king could decide whether his countrymen lived or died, and he was not their friend.

Lord Dunem grabbed Dizzy’s shaking hands, “You will go out there now. You will meet with this king. But when you do, you will carry with you the heritage and hopes of a nation. You will bring not only Cadvan’s memory, but your father’s as well. You will bring the memory of King Richard, and Queen Allison before him. You will carry the souls and memories of Patrick, Anderson, LaFuente, and Cooley. You will carry the hopes and strength of more than a billion people, and when you speak, it will be with their words. You will not fail, because you will not be alone. I will be there, your advisors will be there. You will not be speaking for a single boy playing at the throne. You will be speaking for your nation, your people, your family, and your history. Do you understand?”

Dizzy stared at the floor, willing his heart to slow. He caught his breath and forced it to deepen. He felt the fear run through him, then pushed it down. He looked up at Lord Dunem and took his hands back, “I’m ready.”

Lord Dunem lead the king back into the boardroom, but fell a step behind him as they neared the hologram. Dizzy reached for his bracelet and unfolded it to place the crown upon his head as he walked. The old man in the holo looked tired and frustrated, lines of wear showing on his forehead and around his eyes. A simple circlet of gold wrapped around his head, covered in places by steel gray hair.

Dizzy spoke up, “King Gagan, it’s good to meet you.”

The old man frowned as he spoke. Dizzy couldn’t understand his words, but a translated voice repeated, “They tell me Cadvan is dead.”

“I am sorry to confirm it. This is new information, which has been kept close to prevent our enemies from taking advantage of it. I hope that I am giving that information to a friend now.”

He waved it away, “This is not Cadvan. I have no way to validate. I will not treat with a boy king that my country does not recognize.”

Dizzy caught the mistake then, and bit his tongue in frustration. When Gagan spoke, he didn’t talk about his people. He always used the first person, while Dizzy had spoken as a mouthpiece for the country. One king doesn’t speak to another as though they were the servants of a realm. Gagan knew that, and distrusted Dizzy as a civil servant.

In an attempt to correct this, he nodded, “Then we will not treat. It is just as well you have nothing I want.”

The old man frowned at this affront, “Then why are we here?”

“Where is your son, majesty?”

The King scowled at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dizzy let that sit for a moment, then shrugged, “That’s fine. I was apparently given inaccurate intel. If your son is safe and sound at home, then I look forward to future dealings once you’ve validated who I am. I won’t waste any more time.”

The king stood up, his words now English, no longer translated, “Do you have him?”

Dizzy thought about making him twist on the lie, but only for a moment, “No. I know he’s gone, but we do not know where. Who else knows he is missing?”

The old man sat back down, “This is hard to know. I haven’t heard anything from the Germans or the Swiss today.”

Dizzy’s eyes narrowed, “But you were talking to them earlier.”

“Who I treat with is my business, pup! Nepal is a free country. If you desire my help, you will respect my autonomy.”

Dizzy nodded, “I thought we were talking about me helping you.”

“What can you do?”

Dizzy’s eyes flashed to Dunem, then back to the king, “I don’t know. We’re working on the problem now. If you will let us, I’ll send in experts who can tell whether this was a kidnapping or-”

King Gagan roared, “It was a kidnapping!”

Dizzy waited a moment, then said, “If you will let us, I’ll send in experts who can find the truth of this matter, and the parties responsible. After that, you may wish further help, or you may not. Either way, we will do nothing right now, as you have rightly insisted on verifying my claim to the throne.”

The king frowned, “If you did not intend to do anything, then why bother to contact me?”

“I wanted you to know that we are still your friends, and that your problems are our problems. If you will let us, we will help to keep your family and country safe. I look forward to hearing back from you, your majesty.”

Dizzy waved his hand past his throat in a “cut off” sign, then turned away from the holo. The image of the king winked out as he walked to the boardroom door. There was a part of him that wanted to look back. A part that wanted to see if the military advisors approved of his decision. A part that wanted to see if Lord Dunem supported him.

But those were parts of Dizzy. They were parts of the impostor who played at a position of power. The man who walked out of that room was King Augustus, and he did not hang his hopes on their approval.

As he left the room, his prisoners stood up from where they were waiting and gasped. Astor’s eyes widened. Dizzy frowned at all of them, “What?”

Astor answered, “That’s it. In the eyes. That’s what Cadvan had.”

Dizzy took a deep breath, “Fine. What’s next?”

Twerking Bad

So, I wrote about the marketing character arc for young women, and serious people talking about ridiculous situations.

Because, what the world needs is another opinion about Miley Cyrus, Sinead O’Conner, and Amanda. Here’s the link here.

Faking it

I just put a piece up on Medium discussing perception, beards, and the power of baldness. Here’s the link

New Post on Medium: “The Guy Who Finds It”

I just wrote a short piece on Medium about a golem who, having fallen on hard times, is cheated out of even payment for small jobs.

Here’s the link

Invito Rex Character Bio – Lord Dunem

Lord Dunem was based upon Sir John Gielgud

In my new book, “Invito Rex”, we meet the king’s chief of staff and political advisor, Lord Ashford Dunem. He is an officious, proper and cruel leader who is put in a very difficult position early in the story, and spends the rest of the book scrambling to keep the kingdom intact.

Ashford was born the son of an Austrian duke. As a youth, his ancestral land was contested between warring German and Croatian forces. Ashford rose to prominence by helping his father protect their title and lands. When German forces captured the Duke, Ashford earned his own title after convincing his people to accept German rule. He stopped widespread bloodshed, but his family and friends rejected him, forcing him out of the kingdom.

Lord Dunem’s skill and political savvy helped him find other work with other warring forces. He climbed from one faction to another, always landing in a better position with the winning force. Eventually, he was courted by the American royalty and took the highest role of his life. He has stood for years as the right hand of the king, unable to rise any higher. That is, as long as the king is in power…

 

For more information about the book, help support the Kickstarter.