High Priest on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 3) Read online

  “Although the Stryx policy is not to interfere in the affairs of sentient species, I am a child whose actions cannot be said to establish legal precedence for our kind,” Metoo declared. “Therefore, I will immediately conclude negotiations with Special Ambassador Kelly McAllister for the removal of all Kasilians and whatever other life of this world that can be saved to a new home. Thank you for the interesting math problems, I enjoyed them very much.”

  Kelly sat stunned as the hall erupted again, this time in chants of “Me-Too, Me-Too.” The beaming sea of faces told her that the famously pessimistic Kasilians had, as Dring previously hinted, transformed themselves into a race of optimists. She was still struggling to take in the fact that her daughter’s former playmate, admittedly a math whiz by his very nature, had just been chosen as the leader of an entire species, when Dring ushered the humans from the dais into a small backroom that was smoky from too many candles.

  “Hi, Dorothy,” Metoo said as soon as the door was closed and the roar of the crowd was muffled. “Did you like my speech? Grandpa Dring helped me with it.”

  “You’re a big hero!” Dorothy exclaimed, and gave the little robot a hug as Kevin looked on sullenly. “Mommy was so worried about the Kasilians, and now you’re going to save them all.”

  “Dring and I have been appointed by Metoo as his advisors to arrange for the Kasilian exodus with the Special Ambassador,” Jeeves announced. “The former High Priest has arranged for a musical entertainment to celebrate the inauguration, so if we can wrap up negotiations quickly, Metoo can make the announcement before the visiting priests leave for their trip home.”

  “That sounds good, huh, Kel?” Joe prodded her, seeing that the special ambassador looked almost as unhappy as the youngest Crick.

  “I don’t see why you needed me here at all,” Kelly replied sulkily. “It seems to me like the Prophet Nabay wrote the entire script ten thousand years ago.”

  “You have to admire Nabay’s solution,” Dring chortled “He recognized that his people were in decline, and like many of the older, wealthier species, they had spread themselves thinly among the stars, buying up country manors and private islands with ample supplies of native domestic help. When his observations and mathematical prowess led Nabay to the conclusion that Kasil was doomed, he used his people’s innate pessimism to lure them home and dedicate themselves to the seemingly meaningless task of rehabilitating the planet of their birth.”

  “Do you mean that all along that his goal wasn’t the actual restoration of Kasil but the process?” Kelly asked. “He set out to save his species with partial credit?”

  “Exactly,” Dring replied, slapping his tail on the floor in admiration. “Nabay knew that his people couldn’t change overnight, it would take many generations to breed out the pessimism. He needed a way to keep them all in one place so the survivors could still find mates. No true pessimist would ever agree to give away his choicest treasures for the sake of spiritual purity. When the Kasilians reached that consensus almost two months ago, it meant that the last pessimist had died off, and the subsequent move to divest themselves of that wealth was an unmistakable signal to the Stryx that they were ripe for rescue. Nabay was more than a mere prophet, he was able to reach forward and shape the future ten millennia after his death.”

  “I guess I was being selfish,” Kelly admitted. “I’m just not used to having the fate of a species hanging over my head, and it’s made me a little snippy. So what can we do to save these people?”

  “Libby told us that you’ve done some shopping for planets, but for a variety of reasons, we think it would be best if the Kasilians were able to start fresh, on a young world with no baggage,” Jeeves explained. “Gryph and the other first generation Stryx have come up with a short list of compatible worlds that never developed sentient life forms. These planets remain unknown to the biologicals of the galaxy, in some cases because we’ve hidden them away against future need.”

  “So all that’s required now is a fleet of spaceships and shuttles to move forty million odd Kasilians and as much of their flora and fauna that will fit in the ships to one of these worlds on short notice,” Kelly reasoned. “Could a Stryx station do the job?”

  “A station would work as a fallback for the population, but it would mean disrupting the tunnel network and temporarily putting a hundred million or so station residents out of a home,” Jeeves answered. “I’m sure you know that there is a ‘higher purpose’ eviction clause written into all Stryx station leases, but it’s a clause that hasn’t been invoked in millions of years.”

  “Colony ships could do the job,” Joe observed. “I saw one years back that held ten million humans and enough of an ecosystem to start fresh on a terraformed world. But I imagine they take a long time to build.”

  “Interestingly enough, the Lorthest Orbital shipyards ceased their commercial ship construction activities a little over a century ago to focus on building a fleet of colony ships,” Jeeves informed them innocently. “Of course, that happened before I was alive so I wasn’t around to see what led them to make that decision, but I understand they built the ships on spec, without a customer.”

  “Quite a risk for them to take,” Kelly responded dryly. “I wonder what the going rate is for a fleet of colony ships?”

  “I’m told they would accept around six trillion,” Jeeves replied. “That would include the fueling and shuttles, of course.”

  “Of course,” Kelly repeated.

  “There’s no money left in the Kasilian treasury,” Metoo reported mournfully and sank towards the floor. “I’ve only been High Priest for ten minutes and I’m already a failure.”

  “Mommy has it!” Dorothy informed her friend, and tugged excitedly at her mother’s arm. “Mommy, please give your money to Metoo to save the nice Kasilians.”

  “You realize this means you can’t have a pony,” Kelly teased her daughter.

  Dorothy sat for a moment to digest this information, then she hugged Metoo again. “I never asked for a pony and you have to help Metoo!”

  “Then let me state for the legal record that I will be happy to pay ‘around six trillion creds’ to the Lorthest Orbital shipyards for a fleet of colony ships,” Kelly spoke formally. “I authorize Stryx Jeeves to access the auction proceeds account to make the payment, and if there’s anything left when it’s done, I hope Metoo will accept the money for the Kasilian treasury as a rainy day fund.”

  As Metoo spun around several time in joy and then headed back out to relay the good news to his followers, Kelly felt like the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders. Besides, she reflected privately, the Prophet Nabay isn’t the only one who saw this coming, and maybe now my lower back will stop aching.

  Twenty

  To help Kelly decompress after their brief trip back to Kasil, Joe arranged for a surprise picnic at Mac’s Bones. Metoo remained behind on Kasil until the evacuation could get under way and a new High Priest could be elected, though it wasn’t immediately clear how the Grand Competition would be conducted since Metoo had solved all of the challenge problems.

  In addition to Donna’s family and the Hadad girls, Joe invited Ambassador Bork and his family, along with Clive. The guests had already polished off the barbeque by the time Dring arrived, but the Maker was a vegetarian and probably came late on purpose.

  Joe caught Clive’s eye across the table when the friendly little dinosaur appeared, and told him, “That’s Dring, but give him a chance to eat some celery sticks before you start in with the Effterii questions.”

  The younger folk all crowded in around one of the end-to-end tables, leaving Kelly and her friends at the other. Clive sat strategically on the seam line, with Blythe to his left at the youth table and the space he had saved for Dring on his right. Dorothy had adopted a similar strategy, not being able to choose between Paul and her parents, so she sat across from Clive.

  Being back home with a full stomach and a fresh glass of beer was finally lighten
ing Kelly’s mood, but she still had trouble letting go of the fact that the Stryx had kept her out of the loop on their Kasilian plans until the last second.

  “I know everything worked out for the best, and I understand that the older Stryx are trying to walk a thin line with the noninterference philosophy, but it still hurts that you couldn’t trust me,” Kelly complained to Jeeves. “I never thought I would crack under the pressure of not knowing what was going on, but I haven’t been myself ever since that first trip to Kasil.”

  “I agree with you one hundred percent,” Jeeves declared to Kelly’s astonishment. “We really should have been more open with you from the start, but instead we caused you unnecessary suffering and misery. You could almost say that we were your, uh, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

  “Hey!” Joe interjected. “Don’t blame the Stryx for the way you’ve been feeling. If anybody is at fault here, it’s me. After all, it takes two to tango.”

  “What’s with the two of you,” Kelly asked suspiciously. “Somebody’s up to something and I want to know what it is.”

  “Do you suspect a conspiracy?” Stanley asked playfully, causing Joe to groan out loud and Jeeves to make a sound like an angry paper shredder.

  “That’s it,” Kelly beamed as she spotted the opportunity to remove another word from her list. “The two of you are in cahoots!”

  “Damn!” Joe thumped the table and shook a fist at Stanley. “Why did you have to go and hand Dring the perfect set-up?”

  “Did you put him up to it?” Jeeves inquired of Dring in his most authoritative tone.

  The Maker finished inhaling a stalk of celery like a beaver knocking back a tasty reed and gave a polite burp before replying.

  “I believe that’s a free month of rent I have coming, Joe. And I seem to recall something about atomic replacement bearings for my rotational mass, Jeeves.” Dring reached for another stalk of celery and winked at Kelly. “And thank you, Mrs. Ambassador.”

  Kelly closed her eyes for a moment and reviewed the conversation. Putting it together with some nearly forgotten clues, she came to stunning conclusion.

  “You three have been betting on my word list!” Kelly said in accusation. “Dring, I’m most disappointed with you, but I guess age and maturity don’t always go together. And you Jeeves, what word did you have in this silly contest?”

  “Bane,” Jeeves admitted. “If you could have just said that the Stryx are your bane, Dring and Joe promised to call me ‘Sir Jeeves’ for a year.”

  “And you,” Kelly pointed dramatically at her husband, who was trying to hide behind an empty pitcher of beer. “Aren’t you supposed to know me better than these two? What did you bet on?”

  “I don’t think you want me to tell you right now,” Joe replied in embarrassment, and to Kelly’s surprise, his ears turned pink for the first time in years.

  “You spit it out, Joe McAllister” she demanded. “We’re all friends here.”

  Joe leaned towards his wife, cupped a hand around her ear, and whispered his bet.

  “Interesting contrition?” she asked skeptically. “That’s not even on my list. Are you suggesting I’m supposed to be apologizing for something here?”

  “Interesting condition,” Joe repeated loudly in exasperation. “I mean, come on, Kel. You’ve been saying it in your sleep every night.” Joe altered his voice into a bad imitation of a somnolent Kelly speaking in a British accent, “I say, isn’t the ambassador in an interesting condition.”

  The blood drained from Kelly’s face as she stared at her husband in shock. Then she looked down at her stomach and let out a little scream. “I’m pregnant?”

  “You really didn’t know?” Donna inquired, and burst into laughter. “You’ve been throwing up all over the station for weeks! We all thought you were just keeping it to yourself until the baby began to show, like the last time.”

  “Tinka mentioned it to me around two months ago,” Chastity called helpfully from the end of the table. “The Drazen can smell the hormonal changes from a human pregnancy after just a couple of weeks.”

  Kelly swung her head around to check this information with Bork, who shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. “Even if I had guessed you weren’t aware that you were carrying a child, I didn’t think it was my place to say anything,” the Drazen ambassador told her. “Just to clarify, would you like me to tell you next time it happens?”

  “I’ll be forty-three next month,” Kelly exclaimed pathetically. “I thought I was just getting old. Between the stress of the Kasilian situation and the biggest auction in galactic history, I—oh, why am I even bothering to make excuses. How about you, Jeeves? Did you and Libby know all along?”

  “Libby said the baby was conceived the night you, er, celebrated Aisha’s arrival,” Jeeves replied. “If you need the exact time of conception in order to have a horoscope drawn up by a Dollnick seer, I could check the logs for your implant.”

  “Yuck!” Donna said, making a face. “Am I ever glad I refused to sign that preposterous license agreement when I joined EarthCent.”

  “But you told me you have diplomatic implants too!” Kelly protested.

  “They give them to all the employees anyway,” Donna explained. “It’s not worth the overhead to stock two different grades of hardware.”

  “Dorothy? Did you know Mommy is expecting another package from the stork?” Kelly asked her daughter.

  “A baby boy,” Dorothy replied. “Metoo told me.”

  “Metoo told you it’s a boy?” Kelly asked in distress. She’d always felt that knowing the sex of a baby before it was born ruined the surprise.

  “No,” Dorothy answered, after furrowing her little brows in thought. “He just told me a baby, but I want a baby brother!”

  Having settled the affair to her satisfaction, the seven-year-old turned back to the far more interesting conversation about grown-up boys that the young women had been conducting for the last half an hour. Paul had long since turned up the volume on his implants in defense, and was listening to the gaming news, nodding his head and saying “Yes,” any time somebody looked in his direction.

  “I’m beginning to think I need a vacation,” Kelly moaned, trying to remember the last time she’d been so embarrassed. When she realized how many candidates for similar humiliating experiences she had to choose from, she decided it was better to just keep talking. “When’s the last time we had a real vacation, Joe?”

  “Well, you took that maternity leave after you had Dorothy,” Joe suggested.

  “Did that look like a vacation to you?” Kelly demanded, then shot a guilty look at Dorothy to see if her daughter was listening.

  “Your honeymoon was less than eight years ago,” Donna reminded her. “Where did you go again?”

  “Chez Beowulf,” Kelly replied with a sigh.

  “Oops, I forgot,” Donna confessed with a glance at the converted ice harvester. “Still, you had Laurel then to do all the cooking. That must have been nice.”

  “I haven’t been on vacation since I was thirty-three,” Kelly continued after a moment’s reflection. “I went as a volunteer on an alien archeological dig with the Open University, and we lived in oxygen tents and environmental suits. That was fun. Smelly, but fun.”

  “I haven’t been on vacation since I was twelve,” Blythe contributed from the youth table.

  “Ten,” Chastity added.

  “What’s a vacation?” the Hadad girls asked in unison, drawing a chorus of laughter.

  “I haven’t slept in twenty years,” Jeeves contributed in a modest attempt at one-upmanship, while Kelly wondered what had possessed her to bring up the vacation subject in a room full of cheerful workaholics.

  “What’s sleep?” Dring asked, as he snapped a carrot in two for easier ingestion. “But then again, I don’t suppose I can complain, since I haven’t had a real job in almost a full galactic rotation.”

  “Since you brought up work, can I ask you a couple questions abo
ut the Effterii?” Clive pounced on his opportunity. “I didn’t want to bore anybody, but with Kelly’s interest in archeology and all, I guess it’s alright.”

  “Libby briefed me on your quest,” Dring replied easily. “It happens that I can help, or rather, we can help.”

  “You know where there’s a Key of Eff and the Stryx will help me get it?” Clive could barely restrain his excitement.

  “I know where there’s a Key of Eff and the ambassador can help you get it,” Dring replied. Then he turned and addressed Kelly. “I assume you still have the necklace that Yeafah pressed on you?”

  “It’s a key to something?” Kelly asked, glad to have the excuse to seek privacy for a moment to get her head back together. “I thought it was just a fancy crystal. Let me go get it.”

  “Does this mean you’ll be leaving in the morning?” Joe asked Clive, as Kelly slowly rose from the table to head inside and find the necklace.

  “I’d leave in five minutes if I didn’t think it was impolite,” Clive replied with barely restrained euphoria. “I can’t even guess at the odds for something like this, finding an Effterii ship AND finding the key in the space of just a couple of years. It makes buying a galactic lottery ticket look like a sure bet!”

  Clive’s last sentence nagged at Kelly as she climbed the ramp to the ice harvester’s main deck. What was it Joe had told her on their only date before getting married? If the odds were more than a hundred million to one, something just couldn’t happen without outside help?

  “Libby,” Kelly called out as she rummaged for her jewelry box under a pile of paperbacks on her dresser. “I know that you invited Clive here so he could meet Dring and get help with this key thing, but is there something more to it?”