Guest Night on Union Station Page 21
The four Union Station ambassadors who had hosted the emissaries didn’t wait around to hear how things would turn out. The former emissaries slunk out on their heels, leaving Kelly alone with the Cayl emperor and Jeeves.
“I could be angry over your interfering in my plans, Mr. Jeeves,” Brynt said. “But my wife has changed her mind about provoking my mother into replacing me, and I owe you for bringing our colonists back into communication. I believe I will contract their services in helping to man our fleet and garrisons. It will give us a reason to reunite, and perhaps it’s time we expanded.”
“That’s the spirit,” the young Stryx encouraged the emperor. “Conquer at a loss and make it up in volume.”
The EarthCent ambassador’s implant pinged with a priority-ten story from the Galactic Free Press, their highest level alert. It was the first time in the three years she had been a subscriber that Kelly had received a top priority notification.
“The Galactic Free Press just released a breaking story that won’t push to my heads-up display,” Kelly said to Jeeves. Something about the Stryx’s lack of surprise made her suspicious. “Are you interfering with my reception?”
“I thought you’d like to see it in high resolution,” Jeeves replied, projecting an image of the special edition on the wall.
“Breaking News,” Kelly read out loud, “Alien Bites Dog.” The accompanying photo showed Brynt holding Beowulf’s head and nipping the dog on his muzzle. Below the full color image, credited to Bob Steelforth, the subtitle read, “Cayl Emperor Decides to Keep Empire. Developing Story.”
“That’s a great picture of me with your dog,” Brynt said to the EarthCent ambassador. “Do you think your friend who owns the news business could get me a copy?”
“I’m so sorry,” Kelly replied, mistaking the Cayl’s response for sarcasm. “There’s a human tradition of trying to write shocking headlines from the days when competing newspapers were sold by street-corner hawkers. I don’t know how they could have made your decision about preserving the empire a subtitle. I don’t even know how they could have found out about it already.”
“The Grenouthians began blaring the story a moment after their ambassador left the room,” Jeeves said. “Chastity always has somebody monitoring the bunny feed for breaking news, but the Galactic Free Press scooped them with the dog headline. I’m thinking of getting a subscription myself.”
“I should go and explain the situation to my Cayl brothers,” Brynt said. He came around the table and surprised both Kelly and Jeeves with a hug. “I’m going to miss staying with your family and Beowulf, but it seems that duty requires I prepare for the journey home.”
“Are you really going to leave the emissaries behind?” Kelly asked.
“I’d like to, but it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of you. Our empire doesn’t produce much in the way of diplomats as their services are rarely needed, but I hadn’t realized just how bad it’s gotten. I should also point out that the citizens who came for the open house were mainly here to dump wealth before the annual tax census. Not exactly the cream of the crop.”
“I hope you can stop back home and say goodbye to the children,” Kelly said.
“Of course,” Brynt reassured her. “I haven’t even sent the recall for my shuttle yet. Besides, your husband promised me a lesson on how to brew beer.”
……
Back in the ice harvester, Samuel finished filling a large bowl of beer from the current keg on tap. He tiptoed upstairs, checked with Beowulf that the coast was clear, and then headed down the hall to his room.
“Remember, don’t let anybody in,” the boy instructed the dog as he placed the bowl of beer on the floor. “If Mom comes back and wants to check on me, pretend to have fallen asleep in the doorway.”
Beowulf nodded and began lapping up the beer.
Samuel went into his room, rummaged under the bed for the modified suit he’d smuggled home from the Physics Ride, and rapidly put it on over his pajamas. If Jeeves had come through, Ailia was donning a similar suit in the palace on her far-away homeworld. Next, he took his robot souvenir from Libbyland off of the shelf and placed it on the floor facing the largest open area. Finally, he retrieved the control tablet and tapped in the new sequence of symbols Jeeves had shown him. The eyes of the robot glowed green as it established a link with its quantum-coupled mate.
“Samuel? Are you there?” Ailia asked in Vergallian.
“I’m here, but I can’t see you,” the boy replied in disappointment. “I guess Jeeves couldn’t make the suits work.”
“I can’t put the leggings on over my dress and I didn’t want to call my lady-in-waiting to help me take it off, so you’ll have to be patient. You wouldn’t believe how complicated my clothes are.”
“Are you ready yet?” Samuel asked ten seconds later.
“I’ll tell you when I am,” Ailia replied. “What else is new there?”
“Mist and Gwendolyn are going back to the Gem homeworld so that Mist can sleep until they grow some guy clones for her to date,” the boy recounted. “We have the emperor of the Cayl Empire staying with us, and he’s really neat, except he makes me eat vegetables. And Dorothy is still dating that boy she found at work.”
“Is he nice?” Ailia asked. “Never mind. Of course he’s nice or she wouldn’t be going out with him.”
“He’s okay I guess. Are you ready yet? Don’t forget the gloves.”
“Almost,” Ailia replied. There was a pause. “I think I’m ready now. What do I do?”
“Are you holding your control tab?”
“I just picked it up.”
“Press the round thing with the weird shape on it, then the thing that looks like a star with planets, then there should be something that looks like me.”
“I did,” the girl said a few seconds later. “It’s asking for a password.”
“Jeeves,” the boy told her.
“Oh!” Ailia exclaimed, as a full-size hologram of Samuel wearing the Physics Ride suit appeared before her. “Are you seeing me?”
Samuel stepped towards the hologram of Ailia that had appeared in his own room and gave it an experimental poke in the shoulder with his finger.
Ailia gasped, and her head swiveled around as if she expected to see somebody else in the room. “Did you do that?”
“Sure. That’s what the suits are for. It wouldn’t work otherwise.”
Ailia stepped even closer to Samuel’s hologram, put her left hand on its right shoulder, and held out her right hand for him to grasp in the classic Vergallian ballroom pose. Samuel carefully put an arm around the waist of the young queen’s hologram and took her hand.
“I can feel you,” Ailia declared. “Jeeves is a genius.”
“He’s okay,” Samuel allowed grudgingly. “The suits are from Paul’s flying ride, but I guess Jeeves did most of the math stuff.”
“Crimson Waltz, low volume,” Ailia requested, and soft strains of the Vergallian piece began to play in both rooms. Samuel hesitated for a beat, missing the first natural starting point, but then he began to move into the familiar steps that Marcus had taught him to dance with Vivian. The two glided quietly in their own rooms, and since he was leading, it was fortunate that Samuel’s room offered less free space than Ailia’s or he might have danced her into a wall.
“Your hand should be warm,” Ailia said, after the piece reached its end and they stepped apart to bow formally to each other.
“I’ll get Banger to ask Jeeves. Do you have time for another dance?”
“Empire of Glory, low volume,” Ailia said. Separated by over a thousand light-years, the nine-year-old queen and the ambassador’s son matched each other’s intricate steps as the music swelled over the little robot’s speakers.
Sprawled out in front of the empty bowl and blocking the doorway with his bulk, Beowulf snored and dreamed of chasing pretty Cayl hounds. He caught more than he could count.
Guest Night on Union Station is getting a sequel in 2016,
but after two years of writing and editing EarthCent Ambassador books six days a week, I’m taking a break to work on another project. You can sign up for notification of the next release on my website, IFITBREAKS.COM.
If you believe there is still a place in science fiction for stories that aren’t all about death and destruction, please help to get the word out. Posting an Amazon review on the first book of this series, Date Night on Union Station, will help new readers discover these books, even if you only write a few words.
About the Author
E. M. Foner lives in Northampton, MA with an imaginary German Shepherd who’s been trained to bite bankers. The author welcomes reader comments at e_foner@yahoo.com.