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Wish You Were Here
(Sequel to Those Meddling Fates)


Author: Taffy
E-Mail: bstuller@splis.com
Title: Wish You Were Here
Category: M/L with all CC
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, just borrowing them. Promise to return them only slightly used.
Notes: Do not panic over the song or title. I am a Spoiled Dreamer with sarcastic tendencies. This story is the final part of a trilogy that I began by accident and deals mainly with the rebuilding of Antar and all the political intrigue and drama that goes along with it.

If you have not read the earlier parts of this trilogy, you will be hopelessly lost.

Links to first parts of the trilogy:
Companion piece to Those Meddling Fates Trilogy –
Newest Additions

Part 1 of Those Meddling Fates Trilogy –
May All Your Dreamer Fantasies Come True

Part 2 of Those Meddling Fates Trilogy –
Those Meddling Fates

Part 3, the final part of Those Meddling Fates Trilogy, starts three months afterwards…

~

Wish You Were Here
Produced by Pink Floyd
Released September 15, 1975

Wish You Were Here (Waters, Gilmour)

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

~

The 5 Worlds of the Whirlwind Galaxy

Antar
Main seat of power, ruled by Royal House of Antar

Royal House of Antar
Max Evans, King Zan: Current resurrected ruler and King of Antar, Chair of the Intergalactic Council that sets treaties and negotiates interplanetary issues, Head of Royal House, Queen Liz’s husband and soulmate, father of Prince Philip Parker Evans.
Queen Elizabeth (Liz) Evans: Queen Consort, wife and soulmate of Max Evans, King Zan, mother of Prince Philip Parker Evans.
Prince Philip Parker Evans: 1 year-old son of Max Evans, King Zan and Queen Liz, heir-apparent to Antarian Throne.
Prince Zan: Antar’s Charge de Affairs to Earth, duplicate of Max Evans, King Zan, father of Princess Zanya, husband of Princess Ava.
Princess Ava: Duplicate of Tess Harding-Valenti, Princess Royal Ava, Prince Zan’s wife, mother of Princess Zanya, granddaughter of Crown Prince Lanua of Vintar.
Princess Zanya: 3 year-old daughter of Prince Zan and Princess Ava.
Isabel Evans, Princess Vilandra: Sister to King Zan.
Mr. Alexander (Alex) Whitman: Fiancé to Isabel Evans, Princess Vilandra.
Tess Harding-Valenti, Princess Royal Ava: Granddaughter of Crown Prince Lanua of Vintar, King Zan’s former wife (marriage annulled), current wife of Sir Kyle Valenti of Earth, Princess Royal title bestowed by Max Evans, King Zan as part of the negotiated annulment.
Sir Kyle Valenti: Husband to Tess Harding-Valenti, Princess Royal Ava, in charge of King Zan’s personal security, Sir title bestowed by Crown Prince Lanua of Vintar.
Lonnie: Duplicate of Isabel Evans, Princess Vilandra, stripped of royal title, awaiting trial for attempted murder and treason.
King Tanier: Zan & Vilandra’s father, deceased.
Queen Nataria: Zan & Vilandra’s mother, Dowager Queen, disciple of the Order of Ruan.
Lord Tobias: Distant relative of Max Evans, King Zan, current advisor to Prince Zan on Earth.
Lord Caprian: Tobias’s father, current advisor to Prince Zan on Earth.
Philip and Diane Evans: Adoptive parents of Max and Isabel, honorary members of the Royal House and official advisors.
Aunt Trudy: Grand-aunt of King Zan, and does as she damn well pleases.

Byral House of Antar
Michael Guerin, Lord Rath: Son of late royal advisor, Max Evans, King Zan’s second-in-command, Head of Byral House, second highest House on Antar.
Lord Ranjorn: Brother of Lord Rath, General in Antarian Resistance Army, had been acting Head of Byral House.
Lady Maria DeLuca: Fiancée to Michael Guerin, Lord Rath, Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Liz, Lady title bestowed by Queen Liz of Antar.

Quanar House of Antar
Lord Kivar: Deposed usurper of Antarian Throne, former Head of Quanar House, awaiting trial for treason.
Lord Varner: Son of Kivar, current Head of Quanar House, House in disarray pending King’s disposition.

Antaria: Capital city of Antar.
Luntar: One of two moons orbiting Antar, military supply outpost.
Preluntar: One of two moons orbiting Antar, secondary military supply outpost.


Renular
Governed by the Royal Family, distant relatives of Royal House of Antar

Chancellor Larek: Head of Royal Family, friend and confidant to King Zan, provided refuge and support base for Antarian Resistance Army, strong links to Antar.

Vintar
Ruled by Crown Prince Lanua

Crown Prince Lanua: Ruler of Vintar, both Avas’ Grandfather, secretly supported King Zan during the war.
Prince Tavner: Heir to throne, son of Crown Prince Lanua, head of master spy ring, widower.

Dranular
Ruled by Dranularik Dynasty.

Dranularik Dynastical: Ruler of Dranular, Shapeshifters’ home world, neutral during the war.

Cromar
Ruled by the Supreme Crevsek.

Supreme Crevsek: Dictator and former ally to Lord Kivar, Skins’ home world, noted ship builders, Cromar is not habitable for human life forms without environmental suits.

~

Prologue

Setting: 3 months after Kivar’s official surrender, bridge of a ship orbiting Earth.

Michael: he stood on the bridge of the ship next to his king and queen and stared at the blue and white globe that filled the bottom half of the display: it felt like a scene out of Star Trek: so surreal: he glanced over at his friend and leader and once again wondered how it had all happened: how they all came to be there: how it was that they were all going home, well, almost all: Zan and Ava were staying along with little Zanya of course, but they’d be visiting in about a year or so after the new baby was born: he shook his head in disbelief: Zan had been so wild, so reckless, and now he was Charge de Affair for Antar on Earth, hell, for the entire Whirlwind Galaxy, at least until Larek and Lanua and the others could send proper representatives: Zan had Tobias and his dad, Lord Caprian, and even Tom Barnett there to advise, and he knew Max had had long conversations with President Wilkinson and even the British PM about taking Zan under their wing a bit: it was still hard to picture Zan handling the political affairs of entire worlds, though: hell, he wasn’t even sure how Max had done it: he noticed that all eyes had now turned expectantly to their king…
“That’s your cue, Maxwell.”


Max: “Take us home, Captain.”
He didn’t know if his heart was beating hard from excitement or dread: Earth was the only home he knew and it was terrifying to see it grow smaller and smaller on the display: it represented all that he knew: his new home was still such an unknown to him and demanded so much: he had so many doubts about himself and about everything: he turned to smile at his wife {maybe not everything}: he could feel her warm smile in return: he didn’t know how he would have kept his sanity in the last three months if she hadn’t been there for him: she had been his calm and safe harbor in the political storm that seemed to swallow everything in its wake: even getting a ride back to Antar had proved challenging: there had been an uproar when he suggested that Larek should just send a ship to pick him up or he could hirer a simple transport: but it seemed the King of Antar could only arrive in a Royal Antarian Ship, and the current one was being used to ferry much needed supplies between Earth and Antar: he wasn’t about to interrupt its mission just to catch a ride: he really didn’t care about all the pomp and circumstance that went with this job but others did, greatly: after almost two weeks of wrangling, a solution had been presented: King Tanier’s old ship had been donated to the Order of Ruan after it had carried the remains of the slain Royal 4 and Queen Nataria from Antar to Renular so long ago: it had been well maintained by the Order, even upgraded, and it still carried the royal seal: he had made a formal request to borrow it, which was promptly granted, and with it came his official Ruan advisor: he bowed his head slightly to the regal middle aged woman draped in long robes of burgundy and received a likewise bow in return: he hadn’t quite figured out what to do with her: putting the thought aside he returned his attention to the display: Earth with its sole moon was only a small dot in the distance now, as they approached the red planet of Mars: there had been some talk of terra farming it in the next decade with the help of Antarian technology: while the prospects were exciting, it worried him that Earth may be moving too fast on certain things.

Liz: {Stop. You aren’t responsible for everything. You are allowed to relax every so often. This is our first space flight. Enjoy it.}: she reminded him as she intertwined her fingers with his.

Max: {You’re right.} he replied with a smile, as he forced himself to relax and watched the display as planets and space debris started to fly pass them as he felt the ship pick up speed: they would reach the jump off point soon where they’d enter hyperspace and then everything would be a whir of lights streaking past them: it would still take almost eight weeks before reaching Antar, though: he had a feeling it was going to be a long trip.

~

There are going to be a few things that you, the reader, must assume in this story. The first is that the 5 planets of the Whirlwind Galaxy run on a 24hr cycle, and that they are broken down into hours, minutes, and seconds. This is for no other reason than to make life easier on the author. Thank you.




Part 1

Max: he waited until there was nothing but a constant blur of lights on the forward display before deciding he’d had enough…
“Captain, I believe you had offered to have an officer give us a tour of the ship and our quarters when we came onboard. I would like to take you up on that, if it’s still open?”
He spoke slowly in Antarian: the odd words still felt strange on his tongue.

Captain: he quickly rose from his chair when he realized his king was speaking to him: he gave a small bow in ascent…
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
He gave his first officer a quick glance that was instantly obeyed: he watched as they filed out to the lift: he had been raised on stories of the Royal 4, of how brave and honest they were: he had been deeply honored to have been selected for this assignment by the new High Priestess: he was in charge of bringing King Zan home again.

Max: he followed and listened as the commander pointed out the common areas: the mess hall, exercise room, lounge, arboretum, and the main forward-viewing lounge, where he was met by the rest of his family that was accompanying them to Antar: he smiled at his aunt who was holding his son in her arms…
“Pretty awesome, isn’t it Aunt Trudy?”

Aunt Trudy: “Truly magical, dear.”
She smiled warmly at him: the decision to come had been an easy one: she had always enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest: though, she did feel a twinge of regret: she missed Zan and Ava and little Zanya and hated leaving them, but they had to make their own lives: she was certain that they were ready: she grinned with delight as little Philip squirmed to get down and toddled over to his daddy, wanting to be picked up: it was going to be interesting with a toddler on a space ship for two months: she glanced past the happy scene and gave the Ruan advisor an appraising look: she was either going to be a great help or great hindrance: she hadn’t decided which yet.

Max: he watched the stars, which were no more than white streaks of light now, fly by for a moment with his family: he glanced down at the carrier sitting next to his aunt’s feet and shook his head slightly {Charlie, the first Space Cat}: he was certain that cat was going to get into trouble the second he was let out of that cage: he didn’t understand why Aunt Trudy had insisted on bringing him: ‘companionship,’ his dad had told him, how could he deny Aunt Trudy that, so he’d reluctantly agreed…
“The commander here was giving us a tour of the ship and then showing us to our quarters. Care to join us?”

Aunt Trudy: “Yes, please. I should get Charlie settled in.”

Max: he eyed the carrier again…
“Um…yeah.”
His family filed out behind him as they headed to the private suites: he hadn’t had any input into the arrangements of who slept where and got what suite: he didn’t really care, so long as his wife and child were with him, he was happy: Trevan, the private secretary that he had originally considered a nuisance, was quickly becoming invaluable at handling things like that, and so it was left to him to coordinate the sleeping arrangements with the ship’s staff: the commander waved his hand over a spot to the side of a door, revealing a silver handprint: a slot opened up in the center of the handprint where he inserted a little card, and then asked Max and Liz to wave their hands over it, thus encoding the door to open only to them: once that was done, Max waved his hand over it again and the door slid open: minding his human manners, he let Liz enter first: he noted but ignored the commander’s surprised look.

Liz: she surveyed the large room: it was a mixture of old and new: an ancient tapestry with the royal emblem decorated one whole wall while a sleek, state of the art display and communication/information system dominated the other: the floor was covered in a soft dark blue material that her feet sank into just a little when she stood still: to one side was a door that led to a large sleeping chamber: the chamber was paneled in dark woods with an adjacent metallic and shiny bathroom: everything felt very masculine: a king’s room: she walked back into the main area and noticed part of a door peeking out from around the tapestry…
“What’s this?”
She asked as she headed towards it.

Commander: “The queen’s quarters, Your Majesty.”
He replied and hurried over to perform the door encoding.

Liz: the queen’s quarters were done in softer shades of blue with white accents: there were various plants and flowers scattered about in pots and planters: a large window took up one entire wall and allowed for viewing the stars and cosmos: comfortable sofas and chairs sat in front of the window with a small dining table and chairs off to one side: she nodded her approval of the room and proceeded to the door to the bedchamber: she smiled at the large off-white four-poster bed that sat directly underneath another giant window to the stars: there was a sitting area with a comfortable looking lounger in front of the bed that led to a changing area and then bathroom: she spotted another door off to the side of the changing area, which she discovered led to a nursery: the nursery was also done in shades of blue and white and held a crib and bed, a changing table, and play area: she pushed a button on the wall and smiled as a hidden storage area revealed that Philip’s clothes and play things had already been unpacked and put away: she smiled as she returned to the main area of the queen’s quarters, her quarters, she realized…
“I want this one. It’s perfect. There’s even a nursery for Philip off of the dressing area.”
{And you’ll love the bed that sits looking directly underneath the stars} she added with a teasing look to her husband.

Max: he caught the look and smiled in return: they’d turn in early tonight, he’d make sure of it: he looked over at Trevan…
“We’ll use this suite for our personal needs and the other for more official needs and meetings.”

Trevan: he bowed and held the smirk that he was dying to reveal in check…
“Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll have your personal things transferred immediately.”
His job was to see to the king’s personal needs, which by extension included the queen’s as well, and one thing he had learned these last few months was that the king had his queen by his side whenever possible and always at night: he had explained to the commander when making the arrangements that they would both be residing in the queen’s quarters but the commander refused to listen: Trevan was sure it was only the first of several more surprises in store for the commander.

Commander: he didn’t know what to do: Secretary Trevan had warned him but the idea of the king sharing a room was…unthinkable: he bowed slightly to his king and queen…
“With your leave, I would like to escort the others to their rooms. I thought I should personally see about getting the rest of the suites encoded correctly, since the staff onboard is limited and are still trying to get everything unpacked.”

Max: “Of course, by all means do so. We want a little time to acclimate ourselves and settle our son down for a nap.”
He gave him a slight nod as the commander turned and left with the rest of his family following suit: he waited until they were alone and grinned at his wife…
“So show me this bed, and how long before Squirt conks out?”

Liz: she grinned back and watched as her son ran around chasing a ball through the luxurious suite and sighed…
“I’m afraid it’s going to be awhile. He’s pretty wound up, but let’s go take a look at that bed again.”

~

Commander: he was encoding Princess Vilandra’s room…
“Here you go, Your Highness.”
He glanced in and noticed the unpacked luggage sitting on the bed…
“Oh, my apologies. I’ll have the staff get right onto unpacking that for you.”

Isabel: she waved her hand and gave him a smile…
“No need. I can do that.”

Commander: he paused, again surprised at the willingness the royals had to do things for themselves…
“Very good, Your Highness. Please press the comm. channel if you require any assistance.”
He said as he bowed slightly and exited the room.

Isabel: she appraised her new surroundings: they were also done in shades of blue, the color of the Royal House: the large bed dominated the center of the room with a sitting area in front of the floor-to-ceiling window to the stars: a communication and information center took up a good part of the opposite wall: like Michael’s and Tess’s rooms, her room was large and very comfortable but only the king and queen’s room had a separate living room: she wondered why the commander had been taken aback at the idea of Maria sharing Michael’s quarters and insisted that she should have her separate quarters: she shrugged {Michael and Maria would work it out} she thought as she opened the suitcase sitting on her bed: she started taking her things out and hanging them in the closet or putting them in the dresser drawers that had revealed themselves after she pushed the correct button: she was in a good mood as she unpacked and was already thinking ahead on how to use the information center for more details on the legal system of Antar: she was getting near the bottom of the suitcase and her lingerie when she felt something moving: she quickly yanked her hand away and jumped back: carefully peering into the suitcase, while keeping a good distance, her eyes almost popped out as she saw something long and green with scales go slithering through her bras and panties…
“AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!”
She screamed and in her panic accidentally knocked the suitcase off the bed to the floor: the last glimpse she caught was of the green slithering-thing slipping underneath her bed as she ran from the room while continuing to scream.

Alex: he felt her alarm and then panic and immediately ran back to her room: he met up with her in the hallway outside her room: she was still screaming…
“Isabel…Isabel, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He saw the commander was arriving and already summoning security: Kyle and Michael must have been alerted since they came running as well.

Isabel: she pointed to her room as she tried to catch her breath…
“It…it was in m-my luggage. Oh God Alex, it was crawling through my underwear…”

Alex: “What…what was?”
He asked her as the hall was quickly filling with some serious looking dudes with weapons drawn: he noticed Max brushing off a guard that was trying to stop him from coming to see what was going on.

Isabel: “A snake! A hideous green SNAKE!”

Max: “What happened?”
He demanded as soon as he saw the state of his sister and the confusion on the commander’s face.

Commander: he had no idea what she was talking about since he had no idea what a snake was: was it a weapon…
“I…I’m not sure, Your Majesty.”

Alex: “Somehow a snake made its way into Isabel’s luggage…apparently the one containing her…lingerie.”
He explained evenly and then suddenly started to crack a grin: there was only one person he could think of that was brave enough, or stupid enough depending on how you saw it, to do something like this: and he was going to pay for this big time…good thing he had remained on another planet.

Max: he bit his lip in an attempt to keep from laughing…
“Someone put a snake in your…”
Snicker…
Snicker…
Isabel went from being terrified to outraged in a heartbeat.

Michael: he didn’t even try to fight it…
SNORT!
He slapped his hand on his thigh and proceeded to crack up right there in the hallway.

Isabel: her arms crossed as her eyes shot daggers at her brothers and their hysterics…
“Very amusing. Go ahead and laugh it up! In the meantime, the snake got out and is crawling around in my room. Michael, you’re in charge of alien security for my brother, which also includes me…so GO GET IT!”

Michael: he was wiping tears from his eyes and wishing he had a picture of this to send to Zan: he was going to have to thank him tomorrow during the conference call…
“Uh, sorry Iz, but snakes are from Earth and that would fall under Kyle’s domain.”
He finally choked out: he slapped Kyle on the back…
“Go for it man!”

Max: “Technically snakes don’t crawl. They slither.”
Snort…

Alex: he took hold of Isabel’s arm before she could raise it and zap the illustrious Antarian King.

Kyle: he paused at the door and asked…
“He wouldn’t have put a poisonous one in her luggage…would he?”

Commander: he was even more confused and growing more alarmed…
“What’s a snake? Is something loose onboard that may be poisonous?”

Alex: “A snake is a legless reptile that likes nice warm spaces to sleep and lay in wait for its prey, which are usually insects and small rodents. But there are some varieties whose bite, or in some cases spit, are deadly.”

Commander: “And one of those is loose on the ship?!”
He was now indeed alarmed and did not find the humor in the situation.

Max: it took some doing but he finally got control of himself and at least tried to be kingly…
“Actually, we’re pretty certain this particular one is harmless and was a…parting gift left for Isabel from…Prince Zan.”
He saw that the commander still looked dubious.

Isabel: she was seething: she turned to Kyle, who was still pausing at the door…
“Well, what are you waiting for?!”

Kyle: while he was certain Zan would never do anything really dangerous, how much did Zan know about snakes: what if he misidentified it or something: could Max heal a poisonous snakebite: swallowing his misgivings…
“Riiight.”
He said and cautiously entered the room after Isabel opened the door…
“Here snakey-snakey. Come out, come out from wherever you are!”

Isabel: “Oh great, we’re going to be here forever!”

~

Liz: she was sitting up in bed watching the stars streak by the window: she smiled as her husband returned and prepared to join her…
“Did they get the snake?”

Max: “Eventually. But Isabel is staying with Alex. She says the room creeps her out now.”
His grin increased…
“It was curled up in all that expensive lingerie that she bought on that trip to New York you girls took last week. She says it’s ruined now and wants Zan to pay for it…in blood I believe.”
Her laugh made his eyes sparkle with interest: she was gorgeous when she laughed…
“Squirt asleep?”

Liz: her eyes returned the interest…
“Yep.”
She glanced out the window…
“Pretty impressive view, huh?”

Max: his eyes never left her…
“Yeah.”
Making love underneath the stars took on a whole new meaning for them.

~

Setting: Next morning, king’s quarters…

Max: he sat in front of the monitor and waited for the communiqué to be put through: he glanced over and saw that his dad had joined him and Michael…
“G’morning Dad.”

Philip: “Good morning. I thought I’d see how Zan’s getting along.”

Michael: he smirked…
“Wanna make sure Earth’s still there? Or if Zan traded it away?”

Philip: he grinned in spite of himself…
“Um…something like that.”
He was trying to keep an open mind about his other son, but it wasn’t easy: and the incident last night with Isabel just reminded him of why: he looked up as the monitor blinked to life and Zan along with Tobias and Lord Caprian appeared.

Max: “Good morning, Zan.”

Zan: he beamed his most confident and innocent look at them and smiled…
“G’morning. How was your first night in space?”

Max: he leaned back and grinned: damn Zan could look innocent when he wanted to…
“Oh, not too different than at home. We have a lot of Earthly reminders around us…some more than others.”

Zan: bright-eyed and innocent…
“Really?”

Philip: warningly…
“Zan…”

Zan: “Yeah Dad?”

Philip: he sighed: they were grown: he’d have to let them work things out between themselves: he kind of felt sorry for Zan because Isabel was going to clobber him when she got her hands on him…
“Never mind.”

Max: deciding they needed to get on track since they only had a limited time before they lost the transmission…
“How’re the negotiations going? Did you sway that last hold out?”

Zan: he grinned proudly…
“Yep! Had a private…uh, get together last night and we worked it all out. The shipment of livestock will be heading your way within the month.”

Max: he was shocked: they didn’t have much to offer the agricultural market in trade as they did in other more high tech areas: it had finally gotten down to one member still wanting cash in advance instead of payments and a part of those would be in engineering help for more efficient harvesting and storage techniques: he noticed that Lord Caprian wasn’t smiling but was studying his hands instead and wouldn’t meet his eyes: but Tobias was smirking: growing suspicious…
“Zan, HOW did you get him to agree?”

Zan: “Oh…uh, like I said. We had a nice get together over a couple of Kansas City steaks and cigars and…a deck of cards.”

Max: his mouth dropped open: incredulously…
“I take it that you won…I hope.”

Zan: “Um…yeah. Aunt Trudy is a hell of a teacher.”
He beamed.

Philip: he was speechless.

Max: “Uh…yeah. Okay. Um…good…good.”
What the hell else was he going to say: he shot a glare at Michael, who quickly stifled the grin that was threatening: he figured he’d better change the subject…
“So how’s the embassy retrofit going?”

Tobias: he had been in charge of finding Antar a permanent embassy site in D.C. and found an older hotel for sale that could be upgraded easily enough and was in the general proximity of the other embassies: they were staying in the top two floors of the Biltmore until the upgrades were done…
“Good. It’s going good Max…er, Your Majesty. Another three months and we’ll be all settled in.”

Max: “That’s great! How’s everyone doing? Kathy? Ava and Zanya?”

Tobias: he gave them a warm smile…
“Kathy’s good. She found a position at John Hopkins and is excited about living in D.C.”

Caprian: he smiled his agreement: he had been surprised to find his son in a serious relationship with a human, but she was a sweet girl who made his son happy: a father couldn’t ask for more.

Zan: he grinned with pride…
“Zanya’s in preschool. Loves her new tricycle. She took off down the hall of the hotel on it the other day and somehow managed to ride the elevator down to the main floor before she was caught in the lobby. The hotel manager reprogrammed the elevator so you need a passkey to go down as well as up. Oh, and Ava’s doing good although she’s got these weird cravings…peanut butter and horseradish sandwiches. And she says nothing fits and it’s all my fault.”
He shrugged at that: she looked beautiful to him no matter what she wore…
“The doc says she should have it around Christmas. December 21st is her official due date. Is Mom still coming back then?”

Philip: he beamed: sounds like his granddaughter was doing just fine, and his daughter-in-law too…
“She’ll be there. She’s going to catch a ride back with the Ruan delegation that’s scheduled to arrive on December 18th. Don’t worry. She’s not going to miss the birth of her grandchild.”

Michael: he noticed the signal strength meter was showing a significant drop-off and he needed to pass on a message or he’d never hear the end of it…
“We’re about to lose the signal. Tell Amy and Jim, and Justin and everyone that Maria…and all of us miss them. Oh, and Maria promises to transmit Amy a letter in the next couple of days.”

Zan: the image started to flicker…
“Okay, will do. I called…yester…all is fine in Ros… They send…love…bye…”

Philip: they stared for a moment at the now blank screen: it would be another three days before they were in the proper position again for a clear video call: they would remain in audio contact with both Earth and Antar, and even Renular, for the duration of the trip: Philip strummed his fingers on the table…
“Max, have you considered having Tom Barnett perhaps staying for a bit with Zan while he…settles in? I think it’s obvious that Tobias and Caprian can’t quite…uh…”

Max: “Control Zan?”

Philip: “Well, not control him exactly but more of…reign him in a little?”

Max: he had to grin…
“I was afraid to ask what he had wagered in that poker game. Yeah, you’re right, Dad. Tom had offered to take a year sabbatical from teaching if I needed him to, and I think I’ll send him a message tonight asking if he’s still open to it. Better to do it now before the school year starts in a couple of weeks. Yeah, I think Zan could use a little help in keeping things in perspective but I’m willing to give him a little leeway in how he does things…so long as he doesn’t lose the planet in a blackjack game or something.”
He said with a chuckle but meant every word.

~

Setting: Later that afternoon, arboretum

Max: the plants were somewhat similar to what was found on Earth but held different fruits and vegetables: their colors and smells were odd: what to him looked like a lemon was growing on a vine: what was odder still was to be able to look out the window and see black space with white dots streaking by: he turned slightly when he heard her approach and nodded to her…
“Good afternoon, Priestess Aria.”

Priestess Aria: she bowed her head to him…
“Good afternoon, King Zan. I received your summons. How may I be of assistance to you?”

Max: he smiled slightly: he liked that she hadn’t addressed him as ‘Your Majesty’…
“I’m not sure. I was hoping that you could tell me.”

Priestess Aria: “I am here to serve however you need me to.”

Max: he studied her: he knew if he allowed it, they would go rounds and rounds and not get anywhere: he decided the best tactic to get answers was to be blunt…
“Why?”

Priestess Aria: she paused only briefly; she had been assigned this task for many reasons…
“Because the Order Ruan always offers assistance when there is a need.”

Max: he sighed: blunt didn’t work: he hoped he was up to this…
“And what need do you see me as having that you can assist me with?”

Priestess Aria: tilted her head and the corners of her mouth shifted upwards ever so slightly…
“I taught government at the higher education level on Renular.”

Max: his mouth dropped…
“You…you’re a professor of political science?”

Priestess Aria: it took her a moment to understand his words since he had slipped into English and hers was not perfected yet…
“If I understood you correctly, I believe the answer is yes. It was thought that you could use a…third party to assist you in navigating your way through the political quagmire that awaits you. Starting with an understanding of how the government on Antar works.”

Max: “You mean the way it used to work. There’s only a provisional one at the moment.”

Priestess Aria: “Ah, that is where you are wrong. Kivar did not dismantle the government; he only usurped your authority. The provisional government is only a council that is temporarily stepping in to fill your absence until you return. The government is still functioning, such as it is.”

Max: “I…but I thought it was destroyed. The infrastructure was gone and needed to be rebuilt.”

Priestess Aria: she smiled patiently at him…
“Not destroyed, but was distorted and unbalanced, corrupted, but it still stands.”

Max: he was more confused than ever: he looked out past the trees with the deep red leaves and odd purple pear-shaped fruits as he thought: but it did no good: she was a priestess and talked in many tongues: he didn’t have time for this: he knew he needed help, but he needed answers that he could understand…
“Priestess Aria, you’re correct. I do need a lesson in Antarian Government 101, but I need clear answers, not riddles that I need to ponder for hours or days or even longer. I don’t have the luxury of time. Would you teach me, as a teacher and not as a priestess?”

Aria: smiled and nodded…
“I will always be a priestess but I will teach you and anyone else you wish the basics of Antarian government, along with the governments of Renular and Vintar. But the priestess in me will be just under the surface, urging you in what I, and Ruan, believe to be the proper path. It is up to you and yours to decide what to do with it.”

Max: “Fair enough. When do you want class to start?”

Aria: “Tomorrow first thing after the morning meal?”

Max: “Fine, say 07:00?”
He was a young father and Philip would have him up at 05:00 anyhow so it wasn’t a problem.

Aria: “That would be fine. I look forward to teaching you and yours. Good day, King Zan.”
She bowed slightly and waited for him to dismiss her.

Max: “Good day, Priestess Aria. And I look forward to tomorrow morning’s class.”
He told her and nodded to her.

~

Setting: Later that night, Michael’s suite

Maria: she paced around the very spacious suite as she waited for him and fumed more with each step she took: she looked out the floor-to-ceiling window and felt her blood pressure rise even more: this was just not right: it took the last shred of self-control to block her bondmate from her feelings and she felt that control slipping away with every step she took: she spins around as the door opens: finally…
“Michael!”

Michael: he looked up in surprise and instantly regretted ever insisting that Maria be keyed to his suite as well: damn, she looked pissed…
“Hey?”

Maria: “Hey? That’s all you’ve got to say? Do you know that it’s well past midnight? Where have you been?”

Michael: he looked left and right, blinked a couple of times, and hoped there was an escape route somewhere: this did not look good if she was already asking stupid questions: and yet he couldn’t help himself as he just had to tease her…
“I dragged Max down to the nudie bar on level three and met Kyle there. That Antarian beer is killer stuff.”

Maria: the explosion was spectacular…
“WHAT! Here I am assigned to some cramped little cubbyhole of an inside cabin, while you have this luxury suite, and do you care? NO! You’re out gallivanting around the ship and even manage to find a strip joint…AND YOU TOOK YOUR KING THERE?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
She paced as the hot ash flew…
“You don’t care that I was allocated to a spot just a notch above hired help! Hell, I am just a maid to you anyways. And do you know WHY I got crappy quarters? Not that you care but it’s because we AREN’T MARRIED! It seems that since I’m not officially a member of your house, even though Liz made me her lady-in-waiting, I still only rate a third class cabin. Did you even know that mine is two floors below this one? Probably just down the hall from that nudie bar.”
She paused to stare at him for a minute: arms crossed.

Michael: “It was a joke…there was no nu…”

Maria: “A joke? I’m a joke to you?! The truth finally comes out. I’m a joke. No wonder you didn’t want to marry me before we left Earth. And me, the idiot, blindly follows your alien ass across the goddamn galaxy so she can be treated like a damn maid and called a joke!”

~

Commander: he nervously stands outside the closed door of Lord Rath’s quarters: he has no idea what to do: it is against all custom to interfere in what is obviously a domestic situation unless safety is involved but this is not custom: he raises his hand to push the buzzer but stops just before he hits it: he looks at the crowd that’s starting to gather: Lord Rath is the king’s second: only someone who outranks him would have the authority to interfere: with determination he heads just down the hall and pushes the buzzer to the queen’s suite before he looses his nerve.

Max: he was just getting to bed after spending the evening going over progress reports, shipment schedules, and various other transactions that were occurring in order to get Antar back on it’s feet, when the damn door buzzer went off…
“Goddamn it!”
He sighs in resignation as he climbs back out of bed and slips his pants on: he saw Liz put on her robe before following him to the door: he was tired and none too happy about being dragged out of bed…
“Is there something I can do for you, Commander?”

Commander: “Uh…”
He looked down the hall at the increasing throng of people gathering…
“Your Majesty, we have a bit of a situation developing and I thought…I thought it best that you handle it since it involves your second.”
He stammered out as he glanced back down the hall: he saw that Sir Kyle and Princess Royal Ava had joined the group: he didn’t understand why Sir Kyle was grinning like that.

Max: he poked his head into the hall and glanced at the people standing in front of Michael’s suite: he thought he heard a female voice that sort of sounded like Maria: he headed into the hall with Liz trailing right behind him: his worried expression transformed into a grin as he neared: yep, it was Maria and from the sounds of it she was blowing off a hell of a lot of steam: he paused with the rest of the people, who bowed and gave him and Liz a bit more room…
“I wonder what set her off.”

Kyle: he shrugged…
“Been building for a while now. Ever since the plans were made to return to Antar and she realized that she wasn’t going to have a wedding ring on her finger for the trip.”
He looked around…
“A lot of people collecting. Maybe someone should do something?”

Max: he looked at Kyle, who looked back at him...
“What? You’re security. It’s your job.”

Kyle: “Naw, you’re king. You outrank him.”

Max: “But…”
There was a parting of the sea of people in front of him that led a clear path to the door: shit: he reluctantly walked towards the door that held back the firestorm: he glanced back at Liz who nodded from a safe distance for him to go ahead and push the buzzer, and with great reluctance he did: the door slid open suddenly: he caught sight of Maria pacing back and forth, still mumbling…
“Hey…Michael.”

Michael: he had a much suffering look about him: never mind that he had purposefully set off the suffering: he crossed his arms defensively…
“Hey.”

Max: “Hey…”
Now what should he say…
“So…uh, you gonna be ready for that early morning class tomorrow?”

Michael: “Yep, plannin’ on it.”

Maria: she glanced up when she heard his voice: and there just behind him was the other one…
“YOU! And you! Kyle I see you slinking back there. What were you two doing encouraging him to…”

Max: “Okay, see ya in the morning!”
He hastily stepped away from the door and quickly started down the hall, Kyle only a step behind him: phew, that had been close!

Commander: he looked back at the now closed door and thought he heard something hit the wall and shatter: he ran to catch up to his king…
“Uh… Your Majesty is…is everything all right? Should we…try to…rescue Lord Rath?”

Max: he and Kyle stopped in their tracks and both almost lost it right there…
“That depends. If you do, then you’ll be stuck with her all night.”
He saw the commander look back towards the door as he considered…
“As for me, I’m going back to bed, and unless you have a death wish, you’ll do the same.”

Commander: “Lord Rath is a very brave man.”

Kyle: “Yep, that’s my sis!”
He slapped the commander on the back, and then escorted Tess back to their own suite.

The Fates sure do love a challenge.

I'm not going to lie, this one might be a bit tedious for some because it explains about the gov't of Antar. Yes, it mirrors the U.S. Gov't in many ways but not all. Again, reminder, this is a politically driven story, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun too!



Part 2

Setting: Next morning, 07:00 sharp

Aria: she walked into the conference room that had been set aside as a classroom and raised an eyebrow at her new student body: the table was full: almost all of King Zan’s entourage was ready and waiting for her: she was both surprised and pleased…
“Good morning.”

Max: he grinned as they all said in unison…
“Good morning, Teacher.”

Aria: her eyebrow shot up again and a definite grin tugged at her expression…
“Indeed.”

Philip: he chuckled: it had been a long time since he had attended anything other than a seminar: this should be interesting.

Aria: she pushed a button and something similar to a white board appeared on the wall…
“Let’s begin.”
She proceeded to draw a diagram.



“The government is divided into three parts: the Throne, the Chamber of Houses, and the High Court. I did some checking and I believe they roughly correspond to the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of the U.S. government. The Throne is the highest authority. The Chamber of Houses makes the laws, which must be approved by the Throne, and the High Court validates and enforces them.”

Isabel: “But what are the checks and balances?”

Aria: “The Chamber of Houses must have the Throne’s approval to sign legislature into law. The High Court is the only body that can overrule that law.”

Philip: he shook his head: it was close but there was one piece missing…
“But can the Chamber of Houses reverse the Throne’s decision? Can they overturn a veto by majority vote?”

Aria: “No. No law can be passed without the Throne’s approval.”

Max: he noticed how all eyes turned to him for a moment: he was the Throne…
“So who makes up the Chamber of Houses?”

Aria: “There are 110…correction, 111 Higher Houses, including the Royal House. The heads of the Higher Houses comprise the Chamber of Houses.”

Alex: “So how are the heads of Houses elected?”

Aria: “They aren’t. Usually it’s a hereditary position. However, if a House feels their Head of House is not doing their job, they can oust them and decide upon a new head, usually it’s someone within the same family, an uncle or cousin or even a son or daughter of the ousted head. But not always.”

Max: he thought about Quanar House: Kivar had been the head of the Quanar House but had been ousted when Antar fell to rebel forces and currently Kivar’s son, Varner, was head: he was supposed to make a decision about the status and likely dissolution of Quanar House…
“Aria, what exactly happens when a House is dissolved?”

Aria: she paused for a moment as she pondered how best to explain: she knew what he was asking and why…
“A House has not been dissolved in hundreds of years. It is an act that only the Throne can do and it is never done lightly for the ramifications are great. A House represents a group of people that are usually related by blood and marriage, or geographical region. When their House is dissolved, it basically ceases to exist and they are left without representation in higher government. Since they have the right to oust their head, it is felt that if that head has acted in such a gross manner to call for dissolution, then other members of their house should have acted to stop them and failed to do so. Hence they all deserve the punishment. Some of the Lower Houses will try and align themselves to another house, usually citing close marriage or economic ties, but many more will not be able to. They will then be considered social outcasts.”

Michael: “That doesn’t seem right.”

Aria: “Perhaps, but the government has stood for almost 2,000 years and is unlikely to change. Sadly, I admit it is the ones that have the least to offer, the ones that become the outcasts, that suffer the most.”

Liz: “Suffer how?”

Aria: “The Houses offer assistance and protection for its members. Say a farmer’s crop has failed and he cannot make his obligations. This reflects badly not only on him but the House as well. Usually someone higher up, say in a Middle or Higher House will offer him a loan. Or if a child is orphaned, it has the right to petition their House for help. But if there is no House, they do not have this avenue available to them and they will most likely suffer for it. It will also make any marriages or business arrangements more difficult as well.”

Kyle: “Why?”

Aria: “There is nothing lower in social standing than an outcast with no House support. A House always wants to better itself and increase its rank by marriage, or improve its wealth and well-being in general. A marriage with an outcast lowers a House’s ranking, as does known business dealings with one.”

Michael: his eyes narrowed: he had been told that his House was the second highest ranked House on Antar: but he hadn’t really grasped what that meant…
“How does this rank work?”

Aria: “Ah, that is the part of the government that has become most skewed and will require a great deal of effort to set right. Basically each House is judged by its achievements and integrity, as well as its wealth. There are some Houses that are not very well off but can claim various prestigious individuals who have contributed greatly, such as scientists, philosophers, philanthropists, or may just be known for its compassion and generosity that are ranked very high. There are also some very wealthy ones that aren’t highly ranked but would like to be and would do most anything to get there. I’m afraid that many of those found favor with Kivar and have risen very quickly in rank. In fact, many now sit at the Royal Advisor level.”

Max: “And that is?”

Aria: “Your official council. The top 12 Houses hold those seats. They are to advise you in all matters of government. Currently it is this council that is holding your power, with your mother, Queen Nataria, holding the reigns, very tightly I might add, until you return.”

Max: “Last night you called the government corrupted.”

Aria: “Of the 12 seats, seven have been occupied by new Houses within Kivar’s time and are obviously partial to his policies.”

Michael: “And the other five?”

Aria: she smiled slightly…
“Well, one of those five is yours, Lord Rath…forgive me, Lord Michael. Like your House, the other four are so highly placed and respected, it was impossible for Kivar to oust them.”

Max: he looked up at the diagram again…
“So my council, my cabinet, isn’t going to be overjoyed to see my return.”

Aria: “Perhaps. Perhaps not. They are going to be eager to retain their positions and will most likely work hard for you in order to keep them. But at the same time, the other Houses that remained loyal to you and suffered are going to expect to be rewarded.”

Maria: “Okay, I’m confused. Who sets the ranking? I mean, I understand the basics of what determines it but who’s the judge that says you’re number one, two, three, etc.?”

Aria: “The Houses themselves do. Usually the rankings remain pretty steady, only moving a little higher or lower. But now a big upheaval is expected and while the Throne has no direct say, it does speak loudly on who it prefers by bestowing honors and rewards on various Houses or individuals. All the Chamber members will be vying for the king’s favor and as favor is shown or not, it will help tip the balance.”

Max: “It’d be easier if I just picked them.”

Aria: “Really? And besides Byral House, Lord Michael’s House, whom would you pick?”

Max: “Oh.”

Philip: “What about the High Court? Who decides who sits on it?”

Aria: “Eight are elected by region and one is appointed by the Chamber of Houses for a total of nine justices. Once they are elected, they are done so for life or until they choose retirement, then another one elected from the same region takes their place.”

Liz: “Elected by everyone? Including outcasts?”

Aria: “No. Only House members over 20 years of age are allowed to vote.”

Isabel: “And Kivar had no say in those?”

Aria: “No. As I said last night, the government on the whole still stands as always. Kivar could only do so much. To unseat justices or dissolve Houses, even one such as Byral House that was actively fighting against him, would have caused such chaos that it would have done more harm than good.”

Max: “So what happened to the Royal House, my House, during Kivar’s reign? If Quanar House sat on the Throne, then did the Royal House…drop to 111th rank?”

Aria: “No. The Royal House has always remained on the Throne. Again, it would have caused too much chaos if Kivar had tried such a drastic change. Kivar simply usurped your place as Head of the Royal House and ruled in your stead, as well as remaining Head of Quanar House. Change takes time and drastic change takes even longer.”

Max: he mumbled to himself…
“Now where have I heard that before?”
He scratched his head as he thought…
“But you said they are now expecting upheaval with my return. Won’t that cause chaos?”

Aria: “Yes.”

Max: “But…but change takes time or chaos ensues, and people are expecting drastic change from me in order to set everything right. How am I going to do this without all hell breaking loose and getting impeached in the process?”

Aria: “The king may not be impeached. But yes, they are expecting exactly what you described.”

Max: “But that’s impossible!”

Aria: “Then it is a good thing you’re king.”

Kyle: “Glad I’m not king.”

Maria: “My head hurts.”

Aria: “Then this might be a good place to leave off, unless anyone has any questions?”

Max: “I’m sure we will once we digest all of this. Thank you, Priestess Aria.”

Aria: she bowed slightly…
“I am here to assist, King Zan.”

~
Setting: Queen’s quarters, later that afternoon

Liz: she opened the door to her suite and smiled at Aunt Trudy…
“Aunt Trudy, I’m so sorry. I never expected to be gone this long. After the class, Max and I met with Priestess Aria, along with Isabel, to go over the Order of Ruan’s various outreach programs. I didn’t mean to have you baby-sit all day.”

Aunt Trudy: she waved her hand dismissively…
“Don’t be silly. I loved every minute with him.”

Liz: she looked around for her son…
“Is he napping?”

Aunt Trudy: she poured Liz and herself a cup of tea from an ornate teapot…
“Yes, poor little fellow. He was wiped out. He had so much energy after lunch that I decided he needed to go for a walk. So we walked to the cafeteria where the head chef gave me this wonderful tea to try, and then I stopped off at my cabin for a bit where little Philip loved chasing Charlie around, that cat has been getting a little fat and could use the exercise, and then back here. He fell asleep about a half hour ago. Now sit. I want you to try this with me.”

Liz: she sat on the overstuffed sofa next to Aunt Trudy and together they sipped the tea…
“Mmm, it’s good but a little strong.”

Aunt Trudy: she swished it around her mouth for a bit…
“Yes, I think you’re right. It could use a touch of flavoring and I think I have just the thing.”
She rose and went to get something out of a tote bag…
“I picked this up when we stopped at my room.”

Liz: she raised an eyebrow as Aunt Trudy spiced her afternoon tea…
“Morgan’s Spice Rum?”

Aunt Trudy: “Of course, dear. It adds the most wonderful kick to tea. Care for a touch?”
She asked as she paused over Liz’s teacup.

Liz: she was never much of a drinker, even more so now…
“Maybe just a drop.”

Aunt Trudy: she carefully added just a couple of drops to the tea: she smiled as she took a sip of hers…
“Much better. What about yours?”

Liz: her eyebrows bunched as she tasted…
“I’m not sure. It still tastes like strong tea.”

Aunt Trudy: “Well, perhaps you should try a drop or two more.”
She told her as she poured about a half jigger’s worth in.

Liz: she tried it again and smiled…
“Perfect!”

Aunt Trudy: she settled back on the sofa and sipped her tea as they chatted…
“So did you get out of Maria what happened last night?”

Liz: she made herself comfortable, as she felt a warming feeling come over her as the effects of the rum started to spread….
“Yes, it seems she was upset about her cabin being two floors below ours and…well, not as spacious. Both Michael and I checked this morning and all the other cabins are taken. The captain offered his but Maria couldn’t do that to him. Nope, instead she’s hell bent on making Michael’s life miserable. It didn’t help that he told her that he had been at a nudie bar on the third level with Max and Kyle last night.”

Aunt Trudy: she was clearly amused at that notion…
“Really? Well, since this ship has been under the Order of Ruan’s care for the last fifty-odd years, I am simply going to have to investigate exactly what this order is all about if it includes a…nudie bar.”

Liz: she laughed…
“Yeah, that finally dawned on Maria around breakfast time and she realized that Michael really was joking about last night.”
She poured herself another cup of tea and Aunt Trudy ‘flavored’ it for her…
“Aunt Trudy, again I’m so sorry you couldn’t join us for the government class this morning. We’ve been in a bit of a bind ever since our nanny decided that she wasn’t up to space travel. Thank you.”

Aunt Trudy: “Liz, if I had wanted to be there, I would have, little one or no. I just haven’t been into politics since Nixon resigned. And I’ve already told you, I was happy to watch him. I adore my time with all my nieces and nephews and I’m delighted that I could be of assistance.”
She became quiet for a moment as she thought of something…
“Liz, you said all the other cabins on this level were taken but that’s not true. While I know you’re using the living area in the king’s quarters, the bedroom is sitting vacant. And while my quarters are on this level, they are down the hall. If I were closer, say in the unused king’s bedroom, I could be close in case you needed someone to watch little Philip and then Maria could have my cabin. It’s not as large as these or even Michael’s but it’s certainly comfortable enough.”

Liz: she sat up suddenly…
“That would be perfect! Oh Aunt Trudy, thank you! We promise not to take advantage of you either. And Maria is going to be so happy. Thank you.”

Aunt Trudy: she patted Liz’s hand and smiled warmly at her…
“You’re welcome, dear. Well, I should probably be going. I have some packing to do. I’ll let you know when I’m all moved in…neighbor.”

Liz: she saw Aunt Trudy to the door and then went to check on little Philip: he was sound asleep in his crib just like a little angel: she noticed a few toys and books on the floor and picked them up: she smiled at the book in her hand, Tarzan and Cheetah: Philip loved animals: he got excited every time he saw one: her mom and dad had gotten him a set of Tarzan picture books that showed all the different jungle animals: she put the book on the shelf with the rest and walked to their bed, their four-poster bed: she could just picture it {a tree house with a large bed carved by strong hands, hands that gripped vines as he swung through the jungle, watching over all the creatures: and then home to her and that bed: he’d be well muscled and tanned and wearing just that loin cloth, the one like Johnny Weissmuller wore, open at the sides and just a bit in front and back, showing those incredibly muscled legs}: she had to take a deep breath and fan herself: she went to the living area and poured another cup of tea: she smiled as she spotted the bottle of spiced rum still there and helped herself: she closed her eyes as she went back to her tree house fantasy and the possibilities that large bed and those vines held for her and her dark-haired, part alien Tarzan.

~

Max: he was with his dad and Michael reviewing the trade agreement that Zan had negotiated over a deck of cards when he started to get the strangest feeling: he felt warm, hot actually, and he could feel his toes starting to tingle: he started getting the strangest image in his head, about Tarzan and Jane and a huge bed and…vines: he jumped up suddenly…
“Dad…uh, I just remembered something and…and….I gotta go.”

Philip: he watched his son jump up and practically run out of the room…
“I hope it wasn’t anything too important.”

Michael: he snorted…
“Only one thing could get Max that excited…Liz.”

~

Max: he opened the door to their suite, excited but not at all sure what he was walking into: he knew Liz was there, he could feel her, but she felt…weird: he spotted her reclining on the sofa, eyes closed, and the cutest expression playing across her face: he stealthily made his way over to her: he saw her lips twitch up a little more: her arms reached out and wrapped around his neck…
“Hey.”
He sniffed…
“Have you been drinking?”

Liz: she had wanted him here and suddenly here he was: she felt happy and a little smug…
“Uh-huh. And is that the best line you can come up with?”

Max: he couldn’t stop the grin…
“Me, Tarzan. You, Jane.”

Liz: she giggled…
“Tarzan, Tarzan, Tarzan, you are wearing way too many clothes. Where’s that cute little loincloth?”

Max: his eyebrows shot up at that but his smile remained: he was game for a little role-playing…
“Anything Jane wants, Jane gets.”

Liz: “Really? Anything?”

Max: “Anything.”

Ah, the Fates need to remind the young king not to make open-ended promises to a lady. You never know what they may ask.

Part 3

Setting: Queen’s quarters, early the same evening

Max: the haze of sleep lifted and his eyes opened: the first thing he saw was the incredible sight of the streak of stars going past his window: the second thing he saw was even more incredible—silky chocolate-colored hair splayed across his chest: he felt the slight tickle of her breath against his bare skin: he grinned as he thought of what they had just shared and wanted to wrap his lover in his arms: he frowned slightly when he found that he couldn’t move his arms: that frown was quickly replaced by a grin as he looked up at his arms and remembered why he was immobile: he moved his left wrist trying to free it from the scarf that secured it to the bedpost: his forehead scrunched in a frown at his unsuccessful attempt: he looked down at his still sleeping wife for a moment {I’ll have to find out who’s been teaching you how to tie knots}, and then back up at his bonds: a slight glow of his left hand and the knot magically untied itself: the right hand repeated the process and he was finally able to take her in his arms: he felt her shift and settle back down on his chest: he tried not to chuckle at her not-exactly soft snores: he heard a different sound coming from another room, a distinct gurgle and baby chatter: their son was awake: he sighed and kissed her forehead before carefully extricating himself from underneath her: she was beautiful as she laid there naked and sated from their earlier lovemaking: he winced as he stood and looked down at himself {Damn, I wasn’t this sore after our wedding night}: he ran a glowing hand down his front and afterwards found he could move much better and pain free: he carefully covered his lover and slipped a robe on as he crept into their son’s room: his grin stretched from ear-to-ear as his little boy saw him and excitedly started calling out “da-da, da-da, da-da…”
“Hey Squirt. Shhh, or you’ll wake Mommy.”
He told him as he took him in his arms…
“I think we could both use a quick shower and some dinner. What do you say?”

Little Philip: he was busy picking at the fuzz on Daddy’s robe and seeing if it was edible.

Max: he grabbed the fuzz before it actually made it all the way into his mouth…
“Um, yeah. I think you can go for some dinner. Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”
He laughed as his son laughed and kicked as he held him up high in the shower and let the spray hit him: Squirt loved water…
“You like that, huh? Yeah, we’re going to have to make sure there’s a pool or something close by when we get to our new home.”
He chuckled again as Squirt tried to grab the water droplets: he hated to shut the water off but the Commander had mentioned the need to conserve water: there was a finite supply in space: Squirt made his little “ugh-ugh” sound as the water flow finally ceased…
“Sorry Squirt. I know you want to play some more. Don’t worry. Once we land, I’ll fill a tub full of water and toys and you can play until you’re a little prune. Come on, let’s get dried off and dressed. I don’t know about you but I worked up quite an appetite trying to get that Tarzan yell just right for Mommy.”
A still damp, towel-wrapped father and son stepped into the dressing area: Max sighed as he looked over the clothes hanging in his closet, all neatly pressed and waiting for him: they were all in shades of blue, everything was blue, and Antarian: he gave his clothes a disgusted look…
“There’s got to be a pair or two of Levi’s in here somewhere. There has to be. I saw Mommy pack them.”
He said as he started flipping through the rack trying to find them: there, way in the back, and black no less: he pulled them from the hanger with a hard tug and then went for the t-shirt drawer: five minutes later he was once again just an early twenty-something young father, complete with some very well broken-in Nikes, and feeling much more…human: he grinned at his son, whom he had sat on the floor while he got dressed, and who was currently busy pulling out socks from the open drawer…
“Okay Squirt. I thank you for your help, but I think it’s time you got dressed too. Then we’ll check on Mommy and go get some dinner.”
After putting a t-shirt and coveralls on Squirt, they checked on Liz who was sound asleep and snoring even louder, if that was possible, than before: he gave her a kiss and bent down so Squirt could kiss Mommy: after picking up Squirt’s favorite toy car, they headed to the cafeteria.

Chef: he was busy serving a mixture of Antarian and Earth foods to the waiting guests standing in line: they did serve a traditional formal evening meal at the appropriate time, but all other times you took your turn in line with a tray such as now: while humans could eat some Antarian dishes, many were simply too spicy for their digestion, and likewise, many Antarians complained that Earth dishes tasted like… nothing: the selection varied daily and he liked to mix it up, but usually there were some milder Antarian dishes with some of the more spicier Earth dishes: he was growing rather fond of cayenne pepper and jalapeño peppers made just the most wonderful snacks: he only partially looked up at his next customer, just enough to notice the clothes, human, and asked in accented English…
“What would you like?”

Max: he was trying to balance Squirt on his hip while keeping him from knocking over their drinks and eating utensils that he had foolishly gotten first: he knew he should have known better…
“Squirt, please stop. Please? Look, here, here’s your car. Play with your car so I can get us something to yet.”
He let out a sigh of relief as Squirt decided to cooperate: now was his chance…
“Um, what do you have?”
He recognized maybe half of what was in the trays: he frowned as the server pointed out all the human dishes: he grew up on them: he liked them, he really did, so long as there was plenty of Tabasco around: but the one thing that had become very obvious the first time he had it was that his taste buds were pure Antarian: he shook his head at the chef’s suggestions and pointed to the more spicier fare for himself, and a second plate with a few tidbits of the milder stuff, along with lots of crackers for Squirt.

Chef: he had been surprised by the selection the human was making: he knew some of them were more adventurous than others and would come in here ordering the spiciest dishes and undoubtedly would wind up regretting it a short time later: he was about to make some ‘helpful’ suggestions towards more milder dishes when he heard a baby laugh: he knew there was only one baby on board and his head snapped up and he almost dropped the plate he was fixing: this was the first time King Zan himself had come in here: usually a meal was ordered and delivered to his private room or meeting room by someone else: he had to make an effort to keep his hand from shaking {I’m serving the king, personally!}: he carefully placed the plates on the tray and then bowed respectfully…
“Your Majesty.”

Max: gave him a small smile and nod…
“Thank you…er….”

Chef: “Quinner, Your Majesty. I am Quinner of the Tresken House.”

Max: “Thank you, Quinner of Tresken House. I have very much enjoyed getting reacquainted with Antarian foods while onboard.”

Chef Quinner: “You are too kind, Your Majesty.”
He noticed the king frown a little as the young prince took that time to decide that he wanted to play with his car in the food on the tray: he quickly signaled to a food helper in the back to come forward and help the king with his tray: as soon as the king sat down, his son scooted down and decided to take off with the little toy in hand, his father in close pursuit: he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing: it was just so…normal: a short time later he noticed the king had gotten his son corralled and was sitting with him on his lap trying to get him to eat: Prince Philip seemed more interested in playing with his food and then offering it to his father: the next time he had a chance to watch he noticed that an older woman, whom he believed was the king’s adoptive mother, was holding Prince Philip, who was now very dutifully eating everything on his plate, as was the king, finally.

Max: he watched his mother very calmly feed Squirt, who decided to do a 180 and become that angel all his relatives believed him to be: he already had to use his powers to clean his t-shirt twice and reheat his food, it just wasn’t fair…
“Mom, I swear he was running all over and kept spitting out everything I tried to feed him. He is not the same child that is currently sitting on your lap. That’s an imposter.”

Diane: she calmly shoved another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his open and eager little mouth but she couldn’t completely hide the smile…
“It’s the Grandparent factor.”

Max: “And what exactly is that?”

Diane: “He’s our grandchild and can do no wrong and therefore he doesn’t.”
She explained while carefully giving him some milk from a glass since Max had forgotten his toddler cup with a lid.

Max: he snorted…
“Wanna try that theory at 6:00 a.m.?”

Diane: “Nope. That’s your job, not mine. Mine is to spoil him beyond belief and hand him back over when I’m done. It’s a generations old tradition that I don’t plan on breaking anytime soon.”
She heard another snort and leveled a glare at him…
“Don’t you roll those eyes at me, young man. I remember full well all the candy and sodas and ice creams all of you kids fed Zanya…and let us not forget the first time she was entrusted to your care, we came home to find she had a new puppy. What comes around, goes around, and now it’s your turn.”

Max: he laughed…
“Yeah, looks like it.”

Diane: “So where’s Liz? Isn’t she hungry?”

Max: “Oh, she’s asleep. I’ll get something sent over when she wakes up.”

Diane: “Asleep? This early? Is she okay? Not sick or anything?”

Max: “Um, no, no, she’s fine.”
He noticed the raised eyebrow and the ‘look’ that he elicited from his mom but said nothing.

Diane: she knew he wasn’t telling her everything, but she let it go and changed the subject…
“So is Aunt Trudy all settled in her new quarters?”

Max: he paused…
“Uh…huh?”

Diane: “Aunt Trudy moved into the king’s bedroom next door to you so that Maria could have her old room. Oh and so Aunt Trudy could help watch this little angel here for you. I thought it was a wonderful solution. Don’t you?”

Max: “Oh...yeah, YEAH, absolutely. That’s great.”

Diane: “But of course, I plan on having him a lot too. After all, I must get in my spoiling time.”
She informed him as she switched to feeding her grandson something that had the texture of smashed banana but was orange in color: he was just an angel: his dark hair was growing in, and oddly it seemed to have some curl to it: she thought the hair helped offset those ears a little, which were totally his father’s: his eyes were just a touch darker than his father’s but were still hazel: his nose was more like Liz’s, a little softer and not as sharp as Max’s: and he definitely had inherited both his parents’ stubborn streaks: he was just perfect.

Max: he laughed…
“I don’t have a say in any of this do I?”

Diane: she laughed…
“Nope, not really.”

Max: “It’ll be weird not having you around for Christmas.”

Diane: her heart lurched at that: she and Philip had talked long and hard about this: Philip felt strongly that the first years back on Antar were going to be incredibly hard on Max and he was going to need familiar faces around that he could rely on and trust: but at the same time their other son and his family also needed them: Ava and Zan were going to need help with Zanya when the new baby was born, especially with it being right around the holidays: it would be the first holiday that they had ever spent apart…
“I know. But Zan and Ava…”

Max: he put his fork down and took her hand…
“Mom, I know. They need you. I need you too, but they’re going to need you more.”
He smiled…
“Besides, once the newness of her baby wears off, I don’t think Zanya’s going to be too thrilled with having to share Mommy and Daddy. They definitely are going to need your help then!”

Diane: she chuckled with her son about it, but she knew it was true…
“Yes, she can be very stubborn about things. Oh, did Zan mention what happened at Zanya’s new pre-school?”

Max: he shook his head…
“No. He mentioned the new trike incident but not the pre-school.”

Diane: “Oh, well, it seems that Zanya noticed this great big red button mounted on the wall in the classroom and wanted to know what would happen if she pushed it. So during playtime she started stacking these great big blocks against the wall that she could climb on. The teacher thought she was just playing with them, but what she was actually doing was building stairs so she could reach the button.”

Max: he quickly swallowed and washed his food down with some water so he wouldn’t choke…
“What happened?”

Diane: “She pushed the button.”
She took a sip of water as well to help keep her composure…
“It’s a rather large three-story pre-school so several fire trucks were dispatched. The school was evacuated, which was no small feat with a couple hundred 2-5 year olds. All the parents had to be called to come pick their children up since the fire department’s policy was to thoroughly inspect the entire premise in such instances, which took longer than the kids could stay corralled.”

Max: snort: he was trying so hard not to crack up that he felt tears forming …
“And then what?”

Diane: “Well, the headmistress congratulated Zan and Ava on having such an inquisitive and intelligent child and then recommended a smaller pre-school.”

Max: the tears started falling as he lost it and treated the cafeteria to a rare full blown laugh from their king…
“Oh God, Zanya got kicked out of pre-school! I can’t wait to see how she handles kindergarten!”

Diane: she smacked his arm…
“Max, stop it. You’re as bad as your father!”
Snort…
“I’m serious. She’s…she’s…oh, who am I kidding? Zanya’s her father’s daughter.”
She gave in and laughed along with her son and was eventually joined by her grandson’s baby giggles: it took a few minutes for their shared laughter to die down, at which point little Philip was no longer interested in dinner and wanted down: she grinned as she watched Philip, with Max staying close behind him, run up to the different tables and say “hi” and then “bye,” his two new favorite words, before running on to the next: he was so cute: Max would try and get a “hello” in to the people at the tables before having to run after his son again: she started watching the people at the tables: they seemed surprised and even shocked at first, but soon smiled and greeted the toddler back and then bowed towards Max: some of them eventually loosened up a little after the first couple of tables and actually chuckled at the little prince’s adorable antics: they really weren’t so different: they just needed time to get used to each other.

~

Setting: Queen’s sitting room, a little later, same evening

Max: after chasing Squirt around the cafeteria, he finally managed to grab him long enough to clean up the stuff stuck to his coveralls and wipe his face, which Squirt loudly protested: by that time he figured he owed the other diners some peace and quiet and bid his mom goodnight as he headed down the hall towards their suite, with Squirt running in front and him trying to keep up: the first thing that happened when they walked in their suite was Squirt fell and banged his head on the coffee table, which meant a good twenty minutes worth of crying and fussing, even though he had immediately healed the ‘boo-boo’: he kept checking to see if Liz was awake yet, only to be greeted by the sound of snoring: out of desperation he dragged every toy Squirt owned and dumped them on the floor in the living area and then plopped Squirt in the middle of them: after some pleading and begging on his part, he was finally able to get Squirt interested in something besides crying: he was just moving the coffee table to the other living area on the king’s side when he heard the door buzzer: he sighed and glanced over at his son who was busily chattering into a Fischer Price phone as he answered the buzzer: he gave his arriving guest a friendly smile and motioned him to enter…
“Trevan, what a nice surprise. Come in.”

Trevan: he bowed and then entered: he gave the prince a smile as he talked away into that little plastic phone held to his ear: he noticed the table sitting out of place and gave his king a curious glance…
“Your Majesty, is there something wrong with the table?”

Max: he walked over and prepared to pick it back up and finish moving out of the room: it was rather heavy…
“Umph, no, it’s fine. It’s just…well, we didn’t baby proof this place yet and Philip fell and hit his head on it tonight so I thought I’d move it next door and out of the way.”

Trevan: he nodded in understanding: he was finally starting to get used to his new king and royal family, but it had been a long time since he had been around an infant: he saw King Zan prepare to lift the table by himself and immediately went to help…
“Your Majesty, please let me.”

Max: he shifted the weight as Trevan grabbed the other end of it and together they placed it against a wall in the king’s suite: when they returned less than a minute later, he saw that Squirt had moved on to whacking things with a little plastic red hammer: he scanned the room, looking for what else needed to be baby proofed: most everything was up already: enough for tonight…
“So Trevan, what brings you over?”
He asked as he motioned for Trevan to sit.

Trevan: it was still uncomfortable to sit in his king’s presence: it broke several rules of protocol and etiquette: but this wasn’t the first time that had happened and probably wouldn’t be the last either…
“Your Majesty, I have come for personal reasons but it concerns you and my service to you.”
He saw that the king was no longer smiling but was looking at him intently and nodded for him to continue…
“As you know, the other three royal secretaries remained on Earth to assist Prince Zan and the setting up of our embassy there.”
He took a deep breath: he hated having to admit his shortcomings to his king…
“Your Majesty, I am but one person and usually a monarch has between five to eight secretaries and the consort, at least two to four. While I can handle most arrangements while we’re on the ship, once we arrive on Antar you will need to appoint other secretaries and assistants, plus a primary secretary to be head of palace staff. They will have quite a job in hiring all new staff for the palaces. I’m afraid that I would not be the person for the job.”

Max: he leaned back on the sofa and studied Trevan: they had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start but he thought things were working out pretty well: he had been secretly delighted to stick Zan with the other three secretaries that had been driving him up the wall and trying to tell him what he could and could not do…
“Are you resigning, Trevan?”

Trevan: he didn’t even bother trying to hide his surprised reaction…
“Re-resign, Your Majesty? I…if you request it, of course. But that had not been my intent.”

Max: he let out a breath and smiled…
“Then please explain why I need five to eight secretaries and Liz another two to four, and why you aren’t the man for the job.”

Trevan: he bowed slightly and began…
“There is the secretary to oversee your travel, one for your wardrobe, one for protocol, one for social functions, one for official functions, one or two to oversee your official calendar, one for your private calendar, a treasurer, a personal assistant, and a main head of house and staff with assistants at each palace. Sometimes secretaries will…double up on responsibilities and not as many are required. But the least number I have ever heard of is five, Your Majesty.”

Max: he kept rubbing the fabric on the back of the sofa as he listened: he hated being waited on, and hated the idea of employing someone to tell him what to wear and when he was going to do something…
“So tell me which position you were thinking of.”

Trevan: he was momentarily taken aback…
“Your Majesty, I…am not correct for any of them.”

Max: his eyes narrowed…
“Then why did they send you to Earth as my secretary?”

Trevan: “Your Majesty, I am qualified to be any of those secretaries and…well, I was not expected to accompany you back. It was…surprising when you asked me to do so. I had been expecting to be reassigned to the new embassy.”
He paused and took a breath…
“Your Majesty, my House is Nevran. It is not…sufficiently ranked to warrant such a position. Under normal circumstances, I would never be in your presence.”

Max: now it was his turn to pause…
“Trevan, what is your House’s rank now and before Kivar?”

Trevan: he looked down for a moment to gather his courage…
“Currently it is 68th. Prior to Kivar’s action, 42nd.”

Max: “Priestess Aria told us that Houses usually don’t move that much, even with Kivar’s take over. Why did yours?”

Trevan: his cheeks reddened…
“Many in our House left for Renular and abandoned their lands. It is doubtful they can reclaim them now. But that is a problem common for many Houses. Mainly it is because our House has never been wealthy, and what we now have left are dry arid lands that cannot produce without large investments, which we do not have. Many in our House fought and died in the war. Other members are stretched thin trying to care for those left behind. Priestess Aria is correct, under normal circumstances large changes do not occur. But it has been far from normal for many years.”

Max: he rubbed a hand over his chin: what a mess: it was so unfair: he hated it…
“Okay, you said all new staff would need to be hired at the palaces. Why?”

Trevan: “What staff you…your predecessor had would have been…encouraged to resign or swear their loyalty to Kivar. Most chose to leave. The ones that took their place were mainly from the lower Houses of Quanar or close relations to it. They would not be trustworthy.”

Max: “Are you telling me that I cannot trust anyone from Quanar House?”

Trevan: “I…no, Your Majesty…but are you willing to trust your family’s, your wife’s, and son’s lives that you could?”

Max: he sat up at that and his gaze went over to his son, who was sitting on the floor trying to shove a square block into a round hole shape sorter: above all else, he had to ensure Liz and their child’s safety…
“What side did Nevran House take in the war?”

Trevan: he bowed to him…
“To yours, Your Majesty. Our House has always been loyal. I would never have been sent if it had been otherwise.”

Max: he took a few deep breaths to calm the near panic the thought of losing his family had caused…
“Okay. Then I’m going to need someone that I trust and who knows me and my… human peculiarities to head up my staff. Trevan, regardless of House ranking, I know that you are the man for the job, so I’m offering it to you. Please take it.”

Trevan: he was shocked…
“Your Majesty, I…Your Majesty, there are many other Houses that are not going to be overly pleased to be…passed over. You…forgive me, but you do understand that such an action will significantly raise my House’s standing?”

Max: “Yeah. But here’s the deal. While I want you to be very selective of anyone who comes in contact or has access to my family, particularly Liz and Philip, I want you to not limit your choices to ANY House, except Quanar…they are out of bounds for now. I want the best people, not just the best politically acceptable people.”

Trevan: he sat back on the sofa in stunned silence: he had never heard of such an idea: slowly a smile began to spread…
“This will cause much turmoil in the Chamber of Houses. They won’t know what to expect or where they stand until the key selections and appointments are made.”

Max: “Isn’t that what they are expecting, major upheaval and even chaos? Let’s give them what they want. And in the end, I better have one hell of a staff.”

Trevan: he bowed once more and then laughed…
“I’ll make sure of it, Your Majesty.”
They talked a little more before he bid his goodnight and retired to his room to start outlining some ideas.

Max: he put Squirt to bed not long after Trevan left and was in the process of picking up all the toys when he heard the door buzzer again: it was late, he had had a long day and was tired: he was not in the mood for much of anything: with a tired sigh he opened the door and…no one was there: he heard the door buzzer again: but he was standing at the door and the hall was empty: he stepped back into the suite…
“I must be more tired than I thought.”
He heard the buzzer again and this time it was accompanied by a knock and familiar voice: he smiled and shook his head as he answered the door adjoining the king’s suite…
“Evening Aunt Trudy.”

Aunt Trudy: she patted his cheek…
“Good evening dear. You look tired. You should really get more rest.”

Max: he smiled and gave her a shrug…
“No rest for the wicked, I guess.”

Aunt Trudy: “Ah, so you’ve been wicked. Well, that could explain why you’re tired.”
She loved how red his cheeks got at that…
“Where’s Liz?”

Max: he bent down to pick up some more toys so that he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye…
“Sleeping.”

Aunt Trudy: “Ah, I guess you really have been wicked then. Lucky girl.”
His cheeks were practically scarlet now.

Max: “Um, what can I do for you, Aunt Trudy?”

Aunt Trudy: “Oh, I was looking for something and thought it might be over here.”

Max: he smiled as he went to the sideboard and pulled out the bottle…
“This? Morgan’s Spiced Rum?”

Aunt Trudy: “Oh, I was wondering where I had left that. Hmm, I must be getting old.”
She joked as she took the offered bottle…
“Thank you, dear. But actually what I was looking for was Charlie. I thought he was hiding in the closet, that’s where he hid in my other quarters when we first got here, but I just can’t find him anywhere. Would you let me know if you see him? I know he couldn’t have gotten far but I’d hate for him to be all alone and scared.”

Max: he blinked a few times…
“Charlie’s missing?”

Aunt Trudy: “It would seem so. Well, goodnight dear. Try and get some sleep.”
She patted him on the cheek and then went to recheck her new quarters again: they were on a ship in space: how far could a cat get?

Max: he was tired and numb as he opened the door to their bedroom: the sound of snoring grew louder as he neared the bed: his dainty and petite wife was now laying diagonal in the bed and had all of the sheets and blankets completely wrapped around her…and snoring like a lumberjack…
“Sleep…riiight.”
He grumbled as he began to undress and tried to figure out how he was going to get any sleep tonight.

Sometimes the Fates can make the simplest things in life the most challenging.

Part 4

Setting: Queen’s bedroom, next day

Liz: the smell of coffee wafted underneath her nose and brought her back to life: her eyes opened under protest as she smacked her lips to moisten them in anticipation of her cup of caffeine: her hand reached out for the cup…
“Mmm, good morning.”
She took a sip and tried to clear her scratchy morning voice.

Max: he sat on the bed as she sipped her coffee: he studied her a bit with concern, but at the same time he couldn’t help the slight smirk…
“Actually, it’s afternoon. How are you feeling? Headache? Nausea?”

Liz: she had to pause to think about that: she did feel…off…
“I…no, no headache and…actually, I’m not exactly sure what my stomach feels like. It’s alternating between ‘feed me now’ and ‘take that away’.”

Max: “Well, my understanding is that a big breakfast is required for a hangover.”

Liz: “Hangover?”
She looked around trying to piece together exactly what had happened: the bedding was completely undone with most of it wrapped around her: she obviously had been asleep for some time if it was already afternoon: she looked at her husband, smirking and all smug: she noticed a scarf tied to the bedpost and one to the other bedpost as well: her eyes grew wide as she looked back to the smirk her husband was wearing and a certain twinkle in his eye…
“Okay Max. What exactly happened last night?”

Max: he gaped at her for a moment, and then grinned…
“You mean you don’t remember?”
He gave her a hurt look…
“Man, and here it was a memorable evening too. What with you swinging from the bed canopy, and later on when I finally got you down all the…moaning, I’m amazed that security bought the ‘just watching porn on TV’ excuse when they checked on us. Although, I’m sure it still raised an eyebrow or two.”

Liz: her jaw dropped…
“No way…nuh-uh…really?”
She watched him very closely: he’d said it pretty deadpan but with a slight grin: there, right there, his mouth twitched…
“Liar!”

Max: his grin was from ear-to-ear now…
“Okay, how about this one? Me, Tarzan. You, Jane. Sound familiar?”

Liz: she thought he looked more serious as she tried to think: she remembered having tea with Aunt Trudy: yep, she had some rum with the tea, and then checking on Philip, and picking up the toys and…the book, Tarzan and Cheetah: her mouth dropped open and she looked at her husband…
“Oh. My. God. Max, I…oh God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t believe…”
She looked again at the scarves wrapped around the bedposts and bit her lip: it was all coming back to her now: oh man…
“Max, I…I don’t know what to say. I…I promise not to drink ever again. I…I’m sorry if…if…”

Max: he laughed outright…
“Do I look like I’m looking for an apology? I was thinking of asking Aunt Trudy if she had an extra bottle that we might want to borrow…from time to time.”
He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes…
“Liz, I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to. I love you. And Tarzan will be happy to swing from the treetops with Jane whenever she wants to.”
He went to kiss her lips but she turned her head a little and he got her cheek instead.

Liz: “Mmm, sorry, major morning breath.”

Max: he chuckled…
“I bet. I did a little healing while you were asleep and took care of the headache and did the best I could on the nausea but the alcohol is still in your system so you might want to take it easy for today. I have a couple of meetings this afternoon. Mom and Aunt Trudy are vying for who’s going to watch Squirt, and Maria wanted me to let her know when you got up.”
He pulled a tray of food over to her…
“Here, breakfast in bed.”

Liz: she smiled: she hadn’t been too sure about eating until she smelled the food: now she was famished…
“Max, thank you. You’re too good to me.”

Max: he kissed her on the head…
“Only when you’ve been very…bad.”
He chuckled as she smacked his arm: he rose to leave…
“I’ll send Maria in a bit. Call me if you need me.”

Liz: after he left, she laid back in bed as she sipped her coffee and ate a piece of toast: her eyes glanced over at the scarf still tied to the bedpost: God, what a night: a smile played on her lips: Max had looked so cute in that loincloth: it fit nice and snug and grew even more snug later on: he got pretty good at that Tarzan yell too: she was smiling as she hungrily wolfed down her breakfast before heading to the shower: Maria was waiting for her when she got out: she shot her a ‘how’d you get in’ look.

Maria: she appraised her best friend, obviously in a good mood and not looking too sick, which is what Max had told her this morning: she caught her friend’s surprised look…
“The maid let me in. She was here for a while. Had to completely redo the bed.”
She mentioned dryly…
“So chica, want to tell your lady-in-waiting what went on here last night?”

Liz: “No.”
She told her as she selected a comfortable pair of pants and matching Antarian tunic…
“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

Maria: “Oh yes you do, and I know just how to pry it out of you.”
She triumphantly held up a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and two spoons.

Liz: she peeked around the partition as she was dressing to see what her friend was holding up…
“Maria, that’s a low blow.”

Maria: she shrugged…
“Whatever works. So come on chica, spill. And start with why there are two scarves tied to the bedposts.”
She asked as she took a bite and held out the bribe to her friend.

Liz: she stared at the offering that Maria kept nudging closer and closer to her: she slowly took the spoon and scooped up some ice cream: it was rich and creamy, and she had just sold her soul for it…
“This is so unfair.”
She took another spoonful…
“Tarzan.”

Maria: she gaped at her friend…
“Excuse me, what was that?”

Liz: she sat in front of the mirror and started brushing her damp hair…
“I…uh, I was having tea with Aunt Trudy yesterday and um…”

Maria: she sat the ice cream on the counter close to Liz and took the brush from her: she got the blow dryer out and started fixing Liz’s hair: there are some things only a hair dresser is told.

Liz: She took another bite of ice cream…
“So um…Aunt Trudy added a bit of rum to the tea for flavoring. I mean the tea was rather strong and…okay, I admit it. I got drunk. I got drunk and…um…”
She took a big bite of ice cream…
“Un, I ‘ook a’ antvaage of Maaax.”

Maria: she flicked the dryer off…
“Wanna try that last one again? And where does Tarzan come into this?”

Liz: she swished the ice cream around her mouth to get it to melt faster then swallowed…
“You know how aliens can’t hold their liquor, and well, I only had a little bit…anyways, after Aunt Trudy left, I went to go check on little Philip, who was asleep, and while I was there I started picking up some of his toys and books off the floor and…well…um…”

Maria: she pulled out a hair clip and started trying different styles…
“And?”
She decided to pull it back into the clip while purposely leaving several strands loose.

Liz: “And one of the books was a Tarzan book, which got me fantasizing about Tarzan and Jane and…”
She saw her friend’s eyebrows shoot up and a very amused expression appear…
“Well, how was I supposed to know that I was…broadcasting my fantasy?”
She added somewhat defensively.

Maria: snort: she bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh outright…
“So that’s why Michael said Max cut their meeting short suddenly then disappeared for the rest of the night. Playing a little bongo in the jungle, eh?”

Liz: “Maria!”

Maria: “What?”
She grinned…
“No wonder Max was sporting that grin when I saw him this morning. I think I might even have heard him whistling as he left.”
She picked up her spoon and helped herself…
“So the scarves?”

Liz: she opened her makeup case and started fixing her face…
“Vines. Got to have something to swing from.”

Maria: “Swinging, huh? So who got…tangled up in those vines?”

Liz: she was putting on a little blush…
“Never mind!”

Maria: “Mmm…defensive. Oh, the maid wanted to know the proper washing instructions for what looked like a…loincloth that she found on the floor.”

Liz: her round eyes grew even larger: what would the staff think of their king and queen…
“What’d you tell her?”

Maria: “Cold water and let it drip dry.”
She took another bite of ice cream and smiled at her best friend: they both laughed and tried not to choke on the ice cream.

Liz: “So Maria, have you and Michael ever…uh…”

Maria: “Spiderman.”

Liz: “Really? And…uh…”

Maria: “I always did think that Spidey had some great moves. Glad I was right.”
Without missing a beat she took another scoop of ice cream.

Liz: she took another bite of ice cream…
“So have you and Spidey made up yet?”

Maria: “Ummm, not exactly. Let’s just say he doesn’t have to worry about getting tangled up in a spider web anytime soon, but I at least put away the can of Raid.”

~

Setting: Hallway leading to the forward lounge, same afternoon

Diane: she and Aunt Trudy very slowly trailed behind little Philip, who was toddling behind his 3-in-1 push ‘n’ ride car: she carried his diaper bag and another bag with even more toys: Aunt Trudy carried her own bag: she pushed the button to open the lounge door and rounded her charge in….
“Philip, come on. This way, sweetie.”
She looked around the lounge: it was one of the more spacious rooms on the ship: a bar that served all kinds of drinks and special treats was along one wall with various tables and chairs scattered about in front, and on the opposite wall from the bar were floor-to-ceiling windows for star watching: she spotted an empty table near the far end and headed for it: once there she sat the bag of toys down on the floor and out of the way: she smiled as Philip went over and immediately started pulling things out of the toy bag…
“Philip, not everything. We need to keep them over here so no one will trip over them.”
She looked over at Aunt Trudy who sitting across the table from her and watched as she pulled out a deck of cards and poker chips…
“Aunt Trudy, you know I’m no good at that.”

Aunt Trudy: she eyed her great-grandnephew and then her niece and sighed: she was so excited to have this opportunity to see new worlds and new things, but she had to admit that she missed home, especially a certain slightly mischievous grandnephew and his family: she patted Diane’s hand and smiled warmly…
“I know, dear. Why don’t you go see what they have that passes for a gin and tonic and I’ll keep an eye on this little busy bee.”
While Diane went to the bar, she looked around and spotted a possible candidate walking in: she waved him over…
“Alex, come and sit. Do you have a bit of time?”

Alex: he had been so busy the last few months helping Max and Michael merge Earth and Antarian electronics and communications so they could work together, it felt odd to have nothing to do for the afternoon: he smiled as he headed over to the table and Aunt Trudy: he scooped up little Philip as he sat down…
“Hey there short stuff. Whatcha doin’?”
He took the plastic blocks that the babe offered him and listened patiently as little Philip jabbered away at him: Philip loved to talk, “abbooo a-a baw baw”…
“Is that so? And what about that? Is that a baw baw too?”
He asked and pointed to the other block.

Little Philip: he looked at the other thing in his hand and then at Uncle Alex and back at the thing again…
“Abu, abu…a-a abu.”
He explained and then spotted someone coming and got excited…
“Na-na, Na-na, Na-na!”

Diane: she sat the glasses down on the table and held out her hands to her grandson, who almost leapt into them…
“Come here, sweetheart. My, what a nice greeting and I was only gone for a couple of minutes.”
She gave him a kiss as she sat down with him and reached for a glass…
“Here, let’s try some of this. The attendant thought it might be mild enough for you.”
She watched as little Philip seemed to think about it for the first few sips then excitedly tried to grab the glass from her to drink more: she held on tight to the glass…
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She looked over at the new arrival…
“So Alex, what have you been up to lately?”

Alex: he shrugged…
“Not much right now. Just kinda hanging around, I guess.”

Aunt Trudy: “Well, good. Then you can deal.”
She informed him as she placed the deck of cards in front of him and measured out a number of red and white poker chips…
“Reds are worth one and the whites are worth five.”

Alex: he eyed her suspiciously…
“Worth one and five what?”

Aunt Trudy: she gave him a slightly mischievous grin…
“Does it really matter? Zan and I always settled up afterwards.”

Alex: “I’m not Zan. And I don’t have his…abilities.”

Aunt Trudy: she patted his hand…
“Of course not. You have some that are all your own. After all, you didn’t get into MIT for nothing. Perhaps a little card counting might help?”

Alex: “That’s cheating.”
He saw Aunt Trudy raise an eyebrow and give him an indignant look: he felt his grin starting to grow: his hands deftly shuffled the cards and placed the deck in the middle of the table…
“Cut the cards, Aunt Trudy.”
He then began to deal them…
“Five card draw, nothing wild.”

~

Priestess Aria: she quietly sat at a table in the corner and observed everything and everyone around her: she noted when Mrs. Evans, accompanied by the aunt, walked in with the baby prince: she had no doubt that Mrs. Evans adored her grandchild and would do anything for him and her children: it was this Aunt Trudy that was most intriguing: she of course, had been made aware of Lord Tobias’s suggestion that this Aunt Trudy was at least clairvoyant and possibly on the caliber of a high priestess: she also understood the incredible bond she had with King Zan and had heard the stories of how King Zan would not cross her nor allow any secretary or assistant to do so either: Aria needed to make her an ally and friend, otherwise she had the potential to greatly undermine the Order’s influence with the throne: she saw the lanky fiancé to Princess Vilandra enter and take a seat at the table with Aunt Trudy: it almost appeared that she had challenged the young man to defeat her in some sort of game: interesting: her attention was turned back to the babe as a plastic ball landed near her leg and little feet came scampering after it: she smiled as she bent down to pick it up and handed it back to the babe…
“I believe this is yours.”

Little Philip: he looked up at the lady and didn’t know what to make of her: she felt different: he held out a chubby hand…
“Baaww, baaww.”

Priestess Aria: she smiled warmly at him as he stared up at her with big light brown eyes…
“Yes, ball.”
He took the ball from her but continued to stare: she reached over to a satchel she had next to her and pulled out a pouch: she looked over at the babe’s grandmother…
“I have something that I would like to give him if you don’t mind.”

Diane: she had been following Philip around as he played…
“Oh, of course. Thank you.”
She told her as she took a seat across from her.

Priestess Aria: she carefully lifted Prince Philip onto her lap and proceeded to untie the knot on the bag and a medium-sized black globe dropped out of it: she watched the babe’s reaction as she touched the globe and brought it to life as the black morphed into a myriad of colors and swirls of patterns.

Little Philip: his eyes grew wide as pretty colors swirled in the ball: it was fascinating and exciting: he just had to have it…
“Ooohhh, ooohhh.”

Priestess Aria: she moved it closer to the little outreached arms and then took her hand away: she saw his surprised look as the globe once again became a dull black: Prince Philip just stared: she touched it again and the colors once more burst forth: she moved it almost into his hands before letting go of it and once again it died to black: an excited little hand came down and smacked it and for a brief moment, upon contact, blue and gold exploded inside the globe.

Diane: “Oh Philip, be careful. Priestess Aria, that’s amazing but I’m afraid that he’s a little rough with things and will probably throw it and break it.”

Priestess Aria: she smiled as the babe grabbed it and brought the colors to life as he started to shake it and hit the tabletop with it…
“It’s all right, I doubt he’ll break it. Millions of babies before him have tried. It’s nearly indestructible. It has to be since it’s a child’s toy, a practice ball. It encourages them to use their powers to bring the colors to life.”

Diane: her jaw dropped for a moment…
“Powers? He hasn’t shown any powers yet, at least not that Max or Liz have mentioned. But I’m sure he’ll be starting soon, since I believe Zanya was only a month or two older when she first started.”

Priestess Aria: “Ah, that’s when she started to use them, but she was born with them, the same as Prince Philip. The globe senses the inborn abilities and responds to it accordingly. The more he practices, the stronger his powers will get and the more the globe responds to it. This is actually a very common toy on Antar and Renular that parents use to encourage infants and toddlers to develop their powers. It is alright for him to do so, is it not?”

Diane: she was taken aback for a moment: she knew that Zan and Ava had mixed feelings about Zanya’s powers, both delighted and worried: but Max and Liz weren’t entirely sure if Philip would have them: it looks like they had their answer now though…
“I’m sure it is.”
She thought for a moment…
“Is there any way to tell what kind of powers he might develop? I mean will he be able to heal like Max and Zan?”

Priestess Aria: she watched the babe for a moment as the globe turned from blue to purple to orange in his little hands…
“Some abilities do run in families. Only males born to the disciples of Ruan inherit healing abilities, although it is not unknown for it to be passed on for a generation or two, especially if the trait is very strong in the first generation, as I believe it is with King Zan and Prince Zan.”

Diane: She shook her head…
“I’m sorry but I’m a little confused. I thought the Order of Ruan was a religious order, how could a natural ability be inherited from a religious order?”

Priestess Aria: “You are correct, the Order of Ruan is a religious order and like many religious orders, certain types of people are attracted to it, such as natural healers. After many, many centuries, healers could only be found among the disciples or their immediate male offspring, who would usually follow their parents into the Order as well. Also, over time the Order developed practices and rituals that helped healers to strengthen their abilities.”

Diane: “Oh, I see.”

Priestess Aria: she glanced over at the table where Aunt Trudy and Mr. Whitman sat and noted the increasing stack of red and white chips next to Aunt Trudy and Mr. Whitman’s dwindling supply…
“It looks like Mr. Whitman is loosing the game.”

Diane: she glanced over her shoulder, smiled, and then shook her head…
“I’m not surprised. Aunt Trudy could beat the pants off of any of them, even when Zan used his powers to…uh, make the game interesting.”

Priestess Aria: she continued to smile warmly but her mind was churning over possibilities: she just didn’t have enough information…
“Are she and Prince Zan close?”

Diane: “Oh, yes. All the kids are close to her, but especially Zan. She was a godsend in helping him adjust to family life. He was so used to being on his own, it was difficult for him to conform to rules. Zan and Philip would go rounds and rounds, especially in the beginning. Zan had a knack for pushing it just to the limit and perhaps a bit beyond. Testing the boundaries I guess. And poor Philip was so used to the obedient and dutiful son that he had in Max that I know having Zan around was a bit of a shock to his system. It wasn’t easy but eventually Zan found his own way to make it work. Thanks in large part to Aunt Trudy’s patience.”

Priestess Aria: she had been saddened by the hardship Prince Zan and his group had suffered: it had never been their intention for them to be abandoned like that: she knew that there had been much debate in the scientific community as to whether or not Prince Zan’s group should be allowed to develop or not: they could not guarantee their stability…
“So are King Zan and Prince Zan nothing alike? We had hoped that they would at least share some of the same character traits.”

Diane: she couldn’t help the maternal pride showing for both her sons…
“Oh, they are very much alike in many ways, and at the same time very different as well. I don’t know how much it has to do with…how do I say this…the ‘mix’ when they were created or their vastly different upbringings, but under that scruffy exterior I always saw so much of Max in Zan. They both are sensitive and loving, both have a deep sense of loyalty to family and friends, and a desire to do what’s right. But where Max was reserved and cautious, Zan was mischievous and carefree. I think they both benefited from spending time together. Zan would watch and learn from Max what to do and what not to do. He didn’t always follow what he learned but he got the idea. And Max learned to laugh more and have fun.”
She chuckled at the memories…
“Oh, Zan loves to ‘get’ Isabel. I think it’s his favorite pastime. Max and Isabel had always gotten along fine. Oh they had their moments, that’s for sure, but Max was usually willing to let Isabel have her way. And then along came Zan. He would purposely do anything and everything to irritate her and would drag Max along with him. Then Isabel would get mad and go after the both of them, and they’d run like mad from her, laughing all the way. Zan got Max to laugh a lot more. He still does. Like that snake incident. I pity poor Zan when he gets within her zapping distance. He won’t stand a chance.”

Priestess Aria: she allowed herself a small chuckle at that one too: her first impression had been that it wasn’t very dignified, very un-royal, but then she saw the humor in it, and beneath it all was the obvious closeness: only someone close to you could do something like that…
“Yes, that certainly did make for a memorable evening onboard.”
Her attention was drawn to the babe still sitting on her lap who was now drooling and slobbering on the practice ball.

Diane: her gaze followed the priestess’s to her grandson…
“Oh, sweetie. No, don’t…”
She reached out to take the ball and clean off all the drool only to have little Philip protest such action: she quickly gave it back to him and he was once again happily smacking it with his hands and drooling on it…
“I think you’re cutting some more teeth. I’ll mention it to Max tonight so he can check if your gums need some soothing.”
She then turned her attention back to the priestess…
“I think he’s going to be needing a nap soon. I hope you don’t mind, but I think we should be heading back to our room so I can put him down.”

Priestess Aria: “Of course.”
She handed the babe over to his grandmother and smiled as Diane gathered up his things and then him: she was treated to a “bye-bye” from the prince as they left: she then turned her attention back to observing the card game that was still in progress.

~

Alex: he frowned at his cards: he had only a pair of fives and there was no telling what Aunt Trudy had: she was simply too good at hiding facial expressions, plus she kept distracting him by asking about what he was currently working on or if he’s toured this department or that department: damn distracting, that’s what it was: but maybe two can play at that game: he tossed a couple of red chips in…
“I’m in. So Aunt Trudy, any sign of Charlie yet?”

Aunt Trudy: she pondered her cards: she had noted his earlier frown and decided to match his bet and bumped it up a couple more chips…
“I’m afraid not dear, but I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere once he gets hungry enough. How’s Isabel doing? Has she recovered enough to return to her own room yet?”

Alex: he smiled at that: he enjoyed sharing his room with Isabel: so what if he was reduced to one draw and a few inches of closet space, it was worth it: that is so long as he stayed away from Mr. Evans’s displeased scowl: he decided that Aunt Trudy was bluffing and tossed a matching bet into the pot and upped it another chip…
“She uses it during the daytime but still says it gives her goose bumps just thinking about sleeping in a bed after a snake had slithered through it. I wonder what they did with the snake anyhow?”
He paused and gave Aunt Trudy a grateful smile…
“Aunt Trudy, thank you for giving Maria your room. I didn’t realize when Isabel had mine reassigned to accommodate the both of us that it was the last room on that floor, or that Maria wasn’t close by. I felt awful about it.”

Aunt Trudy: she patted his hand…
“I was delighted to do it dear. And don’t worry about Maria. I think everything worked out quite well. And I believe they cordoned off a spot in the arboretum for the snake since it was just a little gopher snake and harmless. Now, let’s see what you’ve got there.”
She shook her head as she scooted the pile of chips closer to her…
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Alex, that’s way too much to bet on a pair of fives.”

Alex: he sighed dejectedly: he looked up as someone came over to the table…
“Priestess Aria, hello. Is there something we can do for you?”

Priestess Aria: she gave him a small smile and motioned to ask if it was all right to take a seat…
“Actually, I’ve been watching this card game and found it most intriguing. I was hoping that I could join you, if you don’t mind?”

Alex: he sat up a bit straighter: now this could be interesting: his smile broadened…
“Yes, please do. We’d love for you to join us, wouldn’t we Aunt Trudy?”

Aunt Trudy: her eyebrow tweaked up a little but her smile was sincere…
“Of course we would.”
She nodded to the new card player…
“Are you familiar with poker?”

Priestess Aria: “Not exactly but I’ve been watching the game and I believe we have something somewhat similar. Perhaps a quick review of the rules first would help, but I’m a very fast learner.”

Alex: after five more hands he was out of chips and just sat back and watched: the priestess hadn’t been kidding when she said she was a fast learner: hell, she was even holding her own against Aunt Trudy: he got the distinct impression that something more was going on between the two ladies besides a friendly card game: it was intriguing and somewhat intimidating to watch, but they both kept up polite smiles throughout as they played.

Priestess Aria: she looked at her cards and put two down…
“Two please.”
Her face remained even as she now held three jacks and a queen…
“I understand that you have been invaluable in aiding King Zan as well as Prince Zan. We thank you for that.”

Aunt Trudy: her smile never faltered as she drew a royal flush…
“Thank you, but no thanks are needed. They are my nephews and I could do no less. I’m just glad that I was there when they needed me.”

Priestess Aria: she tossed in two chips…
“Nonetheless, you have our thanks. Ruan had foretold of their probable success but it was by no means a guarantee.”

Aunt Trudy: she matched the bet and increased it by three chips…
“Yes, few things in life are guaranteed, even if you can see the likely outcome beforehand.”

Priestess Aria: she continued to smile as her mind was reeling: she was certain that Trudy had foreseen Kivar’s surrender: she upped the ante to six chips…
“What else do you see?”

Aunt Trudy: her smile increased just a tad…
“I see many things.”
She matched the bet…
“That certainly was an interesting ball you gave little Philip.”

Priestess Aria: she wasn’t surprised by the change of direction their conversation had just taken: she matched the bet and upped it again by two chips…
“Yes, it helps him to develop his natural powers.”

Aunt Trudy: she met the bet and upped it by six…
“He is very much like his father, and perhaps more than a touch of his mother as well. It will be interesting to see him grow.”

Priestess Aria: she tossed in a total of 20 chips…
“He might have healing abilities as a second generation but would probably need Ruan’s help to strengthen them. Second generation healers are rarely as strong as first.”

Aunt Trudy: she matched the bet…
“But not always. His father had other influences to guide and strengthen him. As Zanya is very much her father’s daughter, Philip is as much his father’s son.”
She gave the priestess a level look…
“But I’m sure his parents will encourage him to explore many possibilities.”

Priestess Aria: she saw the opening and meaning behind it: Trudy would not interfere in Ruan’s teachings and influence so long as Ruan didn’t interfere with hers: she gave a slight nod in acquiesce…
“I believe I fold. Perhaps we could continue this some other time?”

Aunt Trudy: her smile was warm and friendly as always…
“I look forward to it.”

Alex: he watched the priestess gather her things and depart…
“What was that all about, Aunt Trudy?”

Aunt Trudy: “Just a friendly card game dear. Now, I believe it’s time to settle your debt. I would very much like to be able to spend a little time with Zan. I miss our weekly games and just talking to him. I would appreciate it if you could arrange something for us.”

Alex: “Aunt Trudy, I would have done it even without the card game. All you needed to do was ask. We should be in video transmission range around the time Larek’s and Tavner’s ships meet ours. I’ll check the schedule and make the arrangements.

Aunt Trudy: she gave his hand a squeeze…
“Thank you dear.”

~

Setting: King’s living quarters, around the same time

Max: he was sitting at the dining table reviewing the plans for Larek and Tavner’s visit while eating an Antarian version of a chicken salad sandwich as a late lunch: it was to be an unofficial, get acquainted type of visit that they hoped would be kept quiet: they would be meeting up in a little over weeks, a little more than the halfway point to Antar: Trevan had given him a rough draft agenda for the meeting to review: he started to take a sip of his Cherry Coke, one of several Earth foods and specialties that they brought onboard, and realized it was empty: he checked the small refrigerator in the king’s quarters and found everything but Cherry Coke: he headed next door to the queen’s quarters where he knew that they had restocked the refrigerator just that morning: of course while there he checked in on Liz, who was napping with an empty ice cream carton sitting on the bedside table, before returning to his work and his lunch: as he sat down he noticed his half-eaten sandwich was all askew and the filling was now mostly gone: he looked around trying to figure out what had happened to his sandwich: damn, he was still hungry too.

~

Charlie: he had been busy exploring and marking his new territory and had found the perfect spot for napping, a partially opened drawer that he opened a little further that had the nicest, softest padding of blue on the bottom, and it even had the familiar scent of Dad on it, too: he sat up as his afternoon snack suddenly wasn’t sitting too well with him: he must have eaten too much of that weird stuff mixed in with the chicken: not wanting to mess up his nice bed, he jumped down and found one of those strange things people put on their paws: the larger closed-in ones were just perfect for holding things: cough, hack, hack, hurl, ugh: there, all better now and it didn’t even spill a drop: he jumped back up in his bed after he was done and gave himself a good bath before settling down for a nap: he’d check out that place he found last night that had all kinds of strange smells and interesting things to snack on before heading back over to that other place with the patch of trees and grass that had that strange long thing that moved around on the ground that was just fascinating to watch.

One’s family dynamics are bound to follow wherever the Fates may take you.

Part 5

Setting: Queen’s quarters, two weeks later

Max: he crinkled his nose in disgust as he opened his closet: he looked around to see if he could find the source of the offensive odor: he kept sniffing: it seemed to be coming from his shoes: his feet couldn’t really stink that bad, could they?

Liz: she watched her husband sniffing his closet and smirked: it wasn’t really funny: it had been driving him nuts for days and it was getting worse: he just looked too cute on his hands and knees sniffing his clothes and shoes: a very royal sight she thought and a giggle slipped out: okay, maybe it was funny.

Max: his head spun around and he scowled at her apparent amusement…
“It’s not funny, Liz. You wouldn’t be laughing if it was your stuff reeking!”

Liz: “No, I wouldn’t. I’d be tearing my closet apart looking for the source once and for all instead of waving my hand around and temporarily dissipating the smell every morning,” she told him then turned her back to him and headed toward her own fresh smelling closet and selected an outfit: she bit her lip to keep from giggling again when she heard a frustrated growl from behind.

Max: “Stupid cat. I know it’s him. I know it! He’s always had it in for me.”
He continued to grumble while waving a glowing hand around his closet and causing Liz to giggle some more.

Liz: still giggling…
“Max, he’s a cat. How could he have it in for you? It’s just your imagination. At least you know he’s okay if he’s still…”
Snerk…
“Leaving you presents in your closet. Aunt Trudy would be heartbroken if something happened to Charlie.”

Max: “Great. I’m a king who’s supposed to command respect and authority and who is getting ready to meet other heads of state, and I can’t even get a stupid cat to not use my closet as a litter box. He’s been plotting this for a long time. I know he has. It’s revenge for getting him de-nutted.”

Liz: snort…
“He’s a cat, Max. You’re reading way too much into this. He’s only doing what a cat does.”

Max: “Then why doesn’t he do it to someone else? Why pick on me? I’m telling you he’s planned this.”
He frowned as Liz laughed outright and headed into the bathroom to finish getting ready…
“Stupid cat.”

~

Setting: Earth, same time, partially renovated Antarian Embassy

Zan: he grinned from the doorway: there wasn’t anything more precious than the sight in front of him: Little Zanya: his baby girl: she was adorable with her curls sprawled across the pillow and her little arm slung across Blackie, who was lying next to her, both sound asleep: it had been a big day for her, for all of them: moving day: the embassy’s offices and meeting rooms weren’t done yet but the private upstairs residences were finally complete and ready for occupancy: though the décor wasn’t exactly theirs, he noted as he glanced around the pink walls and pink and white Barbie motif his daughter’s room was sporting: he was beginning to understand Max’s dislike of Barbie, all that pink reminded him of Pepto-Bismol: maybe he’d see what he could do about it tomorrow: he quietly closed the door and headed to his and Ava’s room.

Ava: she slipped on a t-shirt and boxers, both were Zan’s of course, no use stretching her things out: she turned as the door opened…
“She asleep?”

Zan: “Yeah. She should be the way she ran around all day.”
He pulled the light blanket and sheet down, slipped off his clothes, and climbed into bed with his wife.

Ava: she stretched out next to her husband of two lifetimes…
“Did you fix the vase she broke?”

Zan: “Yes.”

Ava: “Find all the rare stones that fell out of the bowl she tipped over when she ran into the display case with her trike?”

Zan: “I think so.”

Ava: “Scuff marks on the wall in the lobby?”

Zan: “Mmm, I’ll get to that tomorrow.”

Ava: “That Secretary Greller suggested we keep her out of the display rooms.”

Zan: “Screw ’em. She should get to know her Antarian heritage.”

Ava: “Yeah, I already told him. But maybe it would be a good idea not to let her around the paintings with her crayons anymore.”

Zan: he yawned: he’d used a lot of his powers today and his body was screaming for rest…
“Yeah, that fluorescent green was a killer to get off the five hundred year old canvas of Queen Triana.”

Ava: she yawned in response to her husband: it had been a long day for all…
“Secretary Goober…”

Zan: “Who?”

Ava: “Sorry, Gubea, found a nearby obedience school for Blackie. It might not be a bad idea to finish housebreaking him. Ya know?”

Zan: his eyes were closing…
“Mmm.”

Ava: she flopped back on her back as her temper started to flare at the memory…
“I’m not sure, but I think he mumbled something about finding an obedience school for Zanya, too.”

Zan: his eyes popped open…
“He’s fired. Or better yet, I’ll relegate him to…to…”
He smiled…
“He’ll escort the next shipment of livestock to Antar.”
His smile widened…
“Yeah. It leaves in the wee hours of the morning in a couple of days. I’ll send him back for Max to deal with.”
Asshole: how dare he say something like that about his little princess: he had to admit that she was full of spirit and curiosity, but kids were supposed to be that way: she was perfect, he thought as he started to doze off: it’d been a long day.

~

Setting: Royal Antarian ship, short time later, conference room

Kyle: snort.

Max: he eyed him and frowned…
“Want to share?”

Kyle: snort: why the hell not…
“Heard you’ve been matching wits with a ten pound orange fur ball and losing.”
Snicker.

Max: his frown deepened as he heard snorts from Michael and Alex: he saw Isabel roll her eyes but remain silent…
“Let’s get back to the meeting, shall we?”

Isabel: she cleared her throat to make sure she had all of their attention…
“So Larek’s ship docks at 4 p.m. You and Liz will greet him at the landing bay and guide him to the informal reception at the forward lounge area, which is followed by a dinner buffet, also in the forward lounge, and then a private meeting with Max and Michael.”

Max: “Okay, sounds good. Any questions?”

Trevan: “May I suggest semi-formal Antarian attire for the reception and meetings?”

Max: he shrugged: it didn’t really matter to him, but it probably would make the right impression…
“Okay. Anything else? What about the agenda for tomorrow?”

Trevan: “Since this is an informal visit, I left it rather open with plenty of time for Your Majesty to meet with Chancellor Larek. Prince Tavner’s ship is scheduled to arrive the day after tomorrow at 4:40 p.m., with a similar gathering and schedule in his honor then.”

Max: “Okay, anything else?”

Kyle: he just couldn’t resist…
“Yeah, you might want to…air your suit out before putting it on tonight.”
Snicker.

~

Max: from the viewing deck they watched the ship bearing the insignia of Renularian authority arrive: they waited and watched as the gauges showed the docking tunnel slowly filling with breathable air: he fought the urge to loosen the collar of his tunic: he glanced over at Liz, she was as beautiful and sexy as ever in her long, royal blue tunic dress that was slit just right at the sides, with her hair pinned up and just a touch of makeup: perfection: a loud hissing sound brought his musing to an end, as the tunnel was finally pressurized: Max stood a little taller and he hoped he appeared regal and worthy to be called a king.

Liz: he’s taller than she thought, was her first impression of Larek as he stepped through the heavy door: even though she’d seen him in video communications and knew that he was white-haired with dark gray eyes and a sharp nose and features, it still came as a shock to her that he didn’t look anything like Brody Davis: it just seemed so odd to her, but she had to admit that his features and the way he carried himself suited his position: he was an experienced statesman and leader of his people…
“Chancellor Larek, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She extended her hand and noted the slight ‘taken aback’ response that was quickly covered by poise and grace.

Larek: they’re so young, children actually: he knew this already, but it was more…pronounced in seeing them in the flesh with his own eyes: shaking hands was not a custom on any of their five worlds, but he understood it was so on Earth so he wasn’t overly surprised when Max, correction, King Zan had done it in greeting him, but the queen was a different story: it was a hold over from ages ago, but it was not customary for a man to touch another man’s wife so casually, at least not until they were considered close friends, family even: but perhaps he was a close friend he thought with a slight smile reaching his eyes, pleased at the thought: he bowed his head slightly as he took her hand…
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty.”
His English was quite good thanks to his visits inside his host’s, Brody’s, head, but his general mannerisms remained very patrician: he smiled indulgently as Queen Elizabeth took his elbow and walked side-by-side with him and King Zan as they headed towards the reception: he knew, of course, that Max held Liz as his equal, but it was going to take some getting used to in the diplomatic circles: his smile increased as he pictured Crown Prince Lanua’s reaction, he was even more ‘old school’ than himself: he patted her hand that was currently linked around his arm with his free hand…
“So tell me, Your Majesty, how do you like space travel?” he politely asked to make conversation as they walked: she was charming, and he knew underneath was a will made of steel: she reminded him of Queen Nataria in many ways.

~

Max: he surveyed the room and noted how well Larek worked it: it reminded him of President Wilkinson: he hoped someday he’d be as good at it as they were: his eyes scanned for his missing second, displeased that Michael had chosen this time to go MIA, but he was sure it was for a good reason and that worried him more.

Aunt Trudy: she was fashionably late, as a lady should be, as she stood patiently behind Max, studying him for a moment: she frowned: she could tell from his stance that he was stressed about something he hadn’t had been earlier: whatever Max was worried about was new, but then there was always something new: that was just part of life: she looked past her nephew and spotted that tall elegant man making his way back to Max and charming all he met: obviously an accomplished diplomat: she’d never met an actual diplomat before…
“Nice little party, dear. Sorry I was late,” she commented as she took his arm.

Max: he smiled…
“You’re never late, Aunt Trudy.”

Aunt Trudy: “Only fashionably, my dear. Only fashionably,” she replied with a pleased smile as the gentleman finally made his way over to them.

Max: “Chancellor Larek, this is my great-aunt Trudy Evans. My adoptive father’s, father’s sister.”

Larek: he gave her a respectful nod: he had spotted her when she walked in and had recognized her immediately: he also knew the influence and reported ‘abilities’ she possessed…
“It is indeed a great honor to finally meet you, Ms. Trudy Evans. I have heard many great things about you.”

Aunt Trudy: she, of course, only pretended to ignore the rumors and gossip about her and other things: she was well aware of what was being said and implied: and Larek was indeed a charmer…
“You have? My, whatever in the world would have been worth mentioning?”

Larek: his smile reached his eyes for real this time: he knew he was being played but she was delightful…
“You. But only bits and pieces. I would love to hear the whole story. Do you have a bit of time?” he asked as he gallantly offered her his arm: he was growing used to this Earth custom.

Max: he slipped his arm around Liz’s waist and chuckled a little as he saw Aunt Trudy quickly become involved in what looked to be a very animated conversation, with Larek doing most of the talking: no diplomat held a chance against Aunt Trudy.

Michael: “Maxwell.”

Max: he turned at the whispered sound of his name: Michael looked deeply worried and the fact that Kyle was standing there with him and looking the same didn’t help the acid ball that suddenly sprung up in his stomach…
“What’s up?”

Michael: he continued in hushed tones, for immediate ears only…
“Emergency communiqué from Tavner. Five Cromarian battle cruisers are AWOL. Rumor has it that some smugglers have them, something about illegal deals going down with mercenaries.”

Max: “But…”

Kyle: “When was the last time you’ve heard of any military having five fully armed battle ships stolen?”

Max: “Point taken. So what’s really happening?”

Michael: “My bet, and Tavner agrees, is that Cromar is going to make a power play but wants to cover their ass in case it blows. Saying the ships were the stolen ones and it was mercenaries behind it all.”

Max: “What are they after?”

Michael: “Only one thing worth enough for them to take the risk. Just ask Kivar.”

Max: “The Granolith.”

Kyle: “Bingo.”

Max: “Great. Just friggin’ great. Where’s the Granolith right now?”

Kyle: “About thirty light years behind us on a medium-armed barge with two heavy Antarian cruisers shadowing it for protection. The decoy barge with four lightweight cruisers is taking a more ‘public’ route to Antar. Any chance they’ll go for the decoy?”

Max: “Micheal?”

Michael: “Maybe, but Tavner was leaning toward them knowing the real from the fake.”

Max: “What are the chances of those two cruisers defeating the five Cromarian ones?”

Michael: “Two against five, not good odds. Plus, just to be that much more fun, the ‘AWOL’ cruisers were the latest and greatest in Cromarian design and power.”

Kyle: “Ranjorn has already dispatched four more medium cruisers from Earth, and three more from Antar, but…”

Max: “But it’s too far for either to be too much help for a while. They’ll be sitting ducks.”
Their grievous stance confirmed this.
“Damn.”
He thought some more…
“What if I opened a dialog with the Crevesk? Let him know that we’re onto them?”

Larek: “What’s that bugger up to now?”
He had just escorted Ms. Trudy to the buffet line and into the capable hands of her other nephew, Philip Evans, when he happened to overhear the question.

Michael: he remained silent until Max gave him the okay to fill Larek in: no matter how closely related in blood and war, Larek was still a foreign dignitary.

Larek: his scowl deepened as he listened carefully: he had been playing the game for a long time, too long it felt like more often now: but he knew the players and Max didn’t so it looked like he was going to have to play it for two, at least in an advisory role, for a bit: he shook his head…
“Crevesk will be only more than happy to have a dialogue with you, and while doing that, adding more resources to securing his objective, namely the Granolith. He won’t give it up until he is reasonably sure of the plan’s failure. And he knows as well as we do that reinforcements are too far away to be of any real help.”

Liz: “But we’ll know it was him and demand the Granolith back.”

Larek: “You may demand all you want but there is nothing you can do to get it back unless you’re willing to go to war, and right now you don’t have the resources for another war and he knows it. No, he’ll hide it away on some barren outpost somewhere and deny any knowledge of it, all the while pumping it for as much information as he can get.”

Michael: passionately…
“So what do we do? Just let him take it?”

Max: very calmly…
“No. We won’t. He can’t.”

Larek: his eyebrow went up just a tad: Lord Michael’s agitation he understood, but he was baffled by Max’s calm demeanor: Max knew something no one else did, but what?

~

Setting: Royal Antarian ship, conference room, next day

Michael: he, Max, and Larek were sitting around a conference table going over various supplies and technologies being traded or requested: they didn’t talk about it but they all felt the tension in the air: the Granolith was a target and Max was just sitting there doing nothing: it was maddening…
“So, Zan has successfully negotiated the increase grain shipments in return for more memory crystals… Max? Maxwell, you there?”

Larek: he had been watching Max very carefully and could clearly see the tension in him, but there was something more: he could almost feel it…
“Are you alright, Your Majes…Max?”

Max: he was startled out of his deep concentration and looked blankly around for a moment trying to get his bearings…
“What? Oh…um, yeah. Zan’s been doing great at the negotiations.”

Michael: he just couldn’t stand it anymore…
“Okay Maxwell, that’s it. What the hell aren’t you telling me?”

Max: “I…”
His eyes closed as he felt it: he was being slammed against hard surfaces: something singed his side: the ship was pitching wildly: alarms going off: caretakers screaming and running: artificial lights blinking into the darkness of space.

~

Setting: Queen’s quarters, Prince Philip’s room

Philip: he woke with a start and cried out in fear.

Liz: she heard her son’s cries from the other room and came running: she already had a good idea what caused those cries: she felt it too.

~

Setting: Earth, Antarian Embassy

Zan: he gripped the table edge so hard it almost broke: he knocked it over, not caring about the priceless vase that sat on top, when he heard his daughter’s cry of “Daddy!”

~

Setting: Royal Antarian ship, conference room

Isabel: she burst in, panicked…
“MAX!”

Michael: he was on his feet and had already pushed the security button…
“Isabel, what the hell is going on?”

Isabel: she felt so cold, and she grew colder as she neared her brother and closer to the cause…
“The Granolith. It’s the Granolith. It’s…calling for help. I can feel it.”
Her eyes never left her brother, who had remained seated with his eyes closed: if she had felt it this strongly, she could only imagine the intensity of what Max was getting.

Michael: “Kyle, get your ass in here!” he shouted into the communicator and then switched channels…
“Captain, I need status of the Granolith transport right the hell now!”

Larek: on the exterior he remained calm, but inside he was a mix of worry, fear, and awe: Max was obviously in direct contact with the Granolith, and he bet he had been for some time and knew exactly what was happening…
“Max, tell us what’s happening? Is the ship under attack? The Granolith?”

Max: he slowly opened his eyes: he was only partly there, the other part was far away at the moment, on a ship being torn apart in space: like before, his pupils were as huge as saucers…
“The ship is under direct attack. It will be destroyed shortly.”
He turned and looked at his second-in-command…
“They need to vent the cargo hold into space and eject me…the Granolith.”

Michael: “Are you crazy?”

Max: “I…the Granolith is but a machine. It does not require air or warmth. The cold vacuum of space will not harm it. They must eject it…and leave at the fastest speed possible.”
His eyes blinked and he took a ragged breath and looked again at his best friend…
“Do it, Michael. I can’t stay in this deep for too long without getting lost. Do it or they’re all dead.”

Michael: he hated it: it went against everything his inner being was screaming, all except one voice and it was that voice, the one that reminded him that Max was his lifelong friend and that he trusted him: he punched the communication button for the bridge…
“Captain, I need direct communication with the Granolith ship. NOW, Captain!”
His eyes swerved to the door when Liz walked in with little Philip glued to her hip: he watched as Larek rose and guided her to his seat and she slipped her hand over Max’s: a view screen blinked to life with images of a battle and destruction: a lone battered and bleeding captain took center screen.

Captain: “I’m under…attack…heavy loses…casualties…sixty percent…climbing…about…be boarded.”

Michael: he stood his tallest and most commanding…
“Captain, eject the Granolith. Do you hear me?”

Captain: there was confusion all around: he knew their cause was lost but he was determined to see it through to the end: he couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing…
“What? Give up? The Granolith? NEVER!”

Michael: he sucked in a deep breath and tried again…
“Captain, I am Lord Rath of Byral House, King Zan’s second-in-command. His Majesty is not capable of breaking contact to speak to you therefore I am issuing the command. I ORDER YOU to eject the Granolith into space and then get the hell out of there. RIGHT NOW!”

Captain: he was astonished but he didn’t doubt the person who was issuing the command: Lord Rath’s image along with the rest of the Royal Four was well known to all: he couldn’t be certain but he thought he caught a bit of a glimpse, off to the side a bit, of King Zan himself: but was this really what His Majesty wanted, to abandon the Granolith to space and the enemy: but he was King Zan’s second and from all reports extremely loyal, hadn’t Byral House always been: he pushed a button on a control panel and an alarm sounded in the cargo hold: anyone still in there had thirty seconds to get out or be sucked into space: the cargo door blew, taking everything and everyone in the hold with them, including the Granolith…
“Confirmed, Lord Rath. The Granolith is no longer onboard and we are now underway at best possible speed.”
He bowed slightly before the view screen went blank: he’d failed: the Granolith was to fall into enemy hands: the people of Antar wouldn’t tolerate such a thing and he was to blame: he’d failed.

Max: he felt the strange sensation of…nothingness: there was nothing below or above, nothing touching: he hung there in space, a void of nothingness: his senses reached out and felt the vague gravitational pull of a far off star: he reached in another direction and detected the approaching ships: he waited patiently: he was in no hurry, he was a machine: he waited until the closest dispatched a probe and another launched a shuttle: he waited until the farthest ones were well within range, and still he waited, ever so patiently until the first touch of the tractor beam.

Liz: “Max?”
He was so pale: a sheen of sweat dripped down his cheeks and from his brow over his closed eyes: he was sitting right next to her but he was so far away, light-years: she could sense only a small piece of him sitting there, the rest was gone and he was blocking her way: he wasn’t letting her follow: that scared her more than anything she’d seen or heard on the screen: she clutched Philip closer to her as he fussed and felt the supporting hand of Isabel touching her shoulder: whatever Max had to do, he wanted to do it alone.

Larek: he’d remained silent but he hadn’t missed a thing: he was relieved and worried that the captain had capitulated to Michael so easily, but then he supposed it was reasonable: the Royal Four were legendary, how could a direct order issued by such not be obeyed: but it was the Granolith: he glanced up in surprise as an image of space appeared on the viewer: the door suddenly opened and Princess Isabel’s fiancée walked in.

Alex: he took one look and walked over to the viewer: he pushed on the wall and a control panel appeared: he proceeded to push and turn various knobs as the image came into better view…
“We got lucky and hit the right frequency and are piggybacking this image off another one passing nearby. This should let us see what’s going on.”

Larek: he stood to get closer and counted the cruisers…
“Five. All Cromarian design. All with blacked out insignias.”

Kyle: “The five ‘stolen’ ships.”

Larek: “Undoubtedly.”
This was going to be a mess: the Antarians, and Renularians for that matter, were going to demand the Granolith’s return: Cromar would play dumb but would probably just happen to ‘find’ the Granolith after the right amount of a ‘finder’s fee’ was offered: a fee neither world could afford: that was if they were lucky: if they weren’t…war: he was so tired of war: he watched with sick fascination as the enemy closed in: he saw the Granolith start to move, obviously caught in a tractor beam, but then…
“What’s happening? It looks like it’s…spinning?”

Liz: she grabbed Max’s hand as it began to tremble: she kept glancing at the screen and then at her husband: she knew from the increased strain on him that whatever the Granolith was doing, Max was directing: the Granolith’s spinning increased: streaks of energy began to shoot out wildly: a probe was hit and blew into a million pieces: the Granolith spun even faster: it looked like the most incredible lightning storm ever created had erupted in the darkness of space with the Granolith at the vortex: the closest cruiser and the smaller shuttles never stood a chance: the Granolith began to glow red hot as it became a firestorm of energy, feeding back unto itself: the remaining three ships tried to pull away but it was too late: she watched as the ships became nothing more than little specs of debris being hurled and flung wildly through space: when there was nothing left to destroy, the Granolith stood still: she heard her husband gasp for air…
“Max? Are you okay?”

Max: he panted for breath: he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs…
“Y-yeah. G-g-give me a…minute.”

Michael: the scene he’d watched play out was terrifying in its destruction but also strangely beautiful…
“Maxwell, what the f*ck did you do?”

Max: he felt a cool cloth being pressed against his forehead: he glanced up and gave Maria a grateful smile: he didn’t remember her being there earlier: he wiped his face and gulped a couple glasses of water.

Liz: “Do you need to lay down?”
She remembered how tired he’d been the last time he did anything like this: but this had been different: he’d done this completely on his own, without her or Zan or Isabel: what had he done.

Max: he heard her thoughts and smiled…
“You’re right. It was different. The Granolith didn’t ‘become’ anything. I simply triggered its self defense systems.”

Larek: he was impressed and quickly grasped what had actually happened right before his eyes…
“That’s why you wanted it dumped into space. So you wouldn’t have to worry about controlling the energy, just let it fly and destroy everything in its path.”

Kyle: he and Michael both whistled in awe…
“Hell of a light show there, Evans. Uh, by the way, I’ve got an emergency call from Zan. He wanted to know what the hell was going on with the Granolith. I guess he and Zanya both felt it.”

Max: he nodded…
“I’m sure they did. Tell him that it’s safe now and I’ll contact him later to explain in detail. Right now I have another call to make.”

Isabel: “What was that, anyhow? I mean it felt like…like…”

Max: “An SOS for anyone that has the DNA to feel it. It’s only partially aware. It knew it was under attack but needed guidance to tell the good guys from the bad guys.”
He glanced over at his friend…
“Michael, could you get in contact with that captain again and ask him if he’d be so kind as to give the Granolith a ride back home.”

Michael: he grinned…
“Consider it done.”

Max: he returned the grin for a moment but then scowled: he still had work to do: he turned to Larek…
“I need to make a call. Do you want to be present for it?”

Larek: unlike the others in the room, as a head of state, he knew the call that King Zan needed to make and it wasn’t going to be easy: did he want to be a part of it, would it help or hurt him and Renular: what about King Zan, he can’t be seen as a puppet king to Renular, but at the same time if King Zan did this right, he would be seen as more than a young upstart king: he would be someone whose words had some teeth to them and could even bite hard if needed: he also knew that the other heads-of-state and advisors were bristling at the thought of a mere boy taking the chair at the council: this could change that perception: but he was untrained, or maybe semi-trained would be the better description since that President Wilkinson had been mentoring him: but was it the same thing: he wasn’t sure but he needed to find out…
“Yes, I would be honored to be present.”

Max: he almost smirked: he knew Larek would: Larek was obviously as curious about what the Royal Four were really like as everyone else: he also wasn’t blind to what was being said in certain circles about him and the intergalactic council: he was being tested and he couldn’t afford to lose face or he’d never be taken seriously in the council…
“Thank you. I think we should do this from the bridge.”
They rose to follow him: he took Liz aside for a moment…
“Liz, I want you beside me but…it’s not a place for Philip.”

Liz: she was torn: she wanted to be with Max, but Philip was upset and fussy and would be more than a handful if both she and Max were out of his sight…
“I’ll watch from the side chamber.”

Max: he entered the bridge with determination: it was the only thing keeping him upright at the moment as fatigue was trying to settle…
“Captain, I need direct visual communication with the Cromarian Ambassador to Antar…”

Larek: he whispered in Max’s ear…
“The Honorable Klignat.”

Max: “The Honorable Klignat.”
A few moments later the main screen winked to life and…{‘what the hell is that?’ he wondered as he observed the strange being on the screen.}…
“Ambassador Klignat.”
The ambassador rose from his bow: {Oh, okay, that’s better. There is a head after all.}

Klignat: “Your Majesty, King Zan. I am honored. How may I be of service to you?”
His face remained cordial and passive, but his eyes (all three of them) missed nothing, not the momentary surprise of King Zan or the underlying anger that was practically pouring out of his skin, or the likewise fury on those surrounding the king, including, much to his surprise, Chancellor Larek: now this was indeed interesting: perhaps it was true and Larek was pulling the strings after all.

Max: “Ambassador, a few moments ago the ship transporting the Granolith was attacked…by five ships that are of Cromarian design.”
He let the statement hang in the air, trying to detect anything interesting from the reaction: it would probably help if he knew the basic anatomy of the being in front of him: he looked like a…lizard with extra…arms.

Klignat: he did his best to portray the appropriate amount of shock and indignation…
“YOUR MAJESTY! That is indeed…unfortunate. But surely you don’t think Cromar had anything to do with it? We design many ships for many planets. We will, of course, assist in identifying the suspected ships and who purchased them.”

Max: his reply dripped with sarcasm…
“How very kind of you. We will transmit the coordinates so that you may examine the… pieces.”

Klignat: all three eyes blinked in surprise…
“Pieces?”

Max: he gave in and smirked slightly…
“You certainly don’t think that I would allow anyone to actually steal the Granolith do you? No, the Granolith is quite capable of defending itself, and I am quite capable of directing it to do so. Something you might want to pass on to any other prospective…buyers that may come calling.”
He bowed his head slightly…
“Good day to you, Ambassador Klignat.”

Klignat: his demeanor had not changed all that much, but inside he was reeling: he had been aware of the attempted grab on the Granolith: he didn’t know the new king all that well and so had not been able to advise for or against the plan, but it had never occurred to him that the ships would be obliterated, damaged perhaps, maybe one or two beyond repair, but not blown apart: no, this he had never thought of: he would relay the message, both spoken and unspoken, that King Zan, while young and still cutting his teeth, has a bite that could be lethal: and how was Larek playing into all of this, and who else was involved: these questions needed answers before they made any more attempts.

Larek: it was all he could do not to grin like an idiot: he had many dealings with Cromarians over the years and knew how to read them: the Honorable Ambassador Klignat was undoubtedly rocked to the core, which meant he knew about the plan and who was behind it…and had never foreseen this possible outcome: hell, he’d never foreseen this possible outcome and he knew King Zan better than any other being outside the King’s immediate circle: plus he was sure Klignat was going to go nuts trying to figure out Larek’s role in all of this and what it might mean: too bad Tavner wasn’t here for it, now that really would have thrown the ambassador for a loop.

~

Setting: Royal Antarian ship, atrium, late the same night

Max: he wandered through the strange trees and plants: he heard the slight rustling of Isabel’s snake, now named Ralph, slithering around his enclosed area, and took a seat on a bench and stared out at the passing starscape: his mind and heart were heavy with what he had done earlier today: there had been between three and five hundred beings on each of those five ships, two thousand five hundred beings were gone: all because of him: he knew many, many more, hundred of thousands, if not millions, had lost their lives in the last few years in the war: he’d even taken some of them out last time in defending Earth, but this was different: he wasn’t directly threatened, his loved ones weren’t going to die today if he didn’t take action, he’d done it for a machine: granted it was a very powerful machine that was a national treasure, an icon of Antarian civilization, but was it worth twenty-five hundred lives: somehow he wasn’t at all sure that it was: he suddenly heard some more rustling much closer and louder, a snap of a twig, and…crash.

Charlie: grunt…
“Umph…”
He hit the bench with a thud: he carefully stretched, checked for damage, and was glad that Dad’s lap had been there to break his fall: he stretched again and laid out on Dad’s lap: he needed a good scratching to relieve any possible soreness from that stupid branch breaking.

Max: “What the hell?”
He almost laughed as Charlie looked around with a ‘what? I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ look and then stretched out on his lap: he automatically started scratching Charlie’s back and laughed despite his melancholy as he hit a particularly itchy spot near the tailbone and Charlie began to wildly gnaw on his paw.

Charlie: gnaw…
“Dad….”
Chew…
“S-stop…”
Gnaw…
“grrrr….puurrrr…”
Chew…
“L-left, Dad, to the left.”
He shifted over to his back, legs up in the air…
“Chest, Dad, get the chest. But I’m warning you, stay away from the belly.”

Max: he started at the chin and worked his way down the neck and the chest: he felt claws wrap around his arm as he started towards the belly, and then release him as he reversed direction and moved back towards the chest.

Aunt Trudy: she walked over and joined her nephew on the bench…
“Well, look who was ready to come in from the cold. I had a feeling he’d been hanging around here. Probably playing with Ralph,” she said as she began to scratch Charlie’s belly: Charlie just purred in reply.

Max: “He won’t let me do that.”

Aunt Trudy: “You don’t do it right,” she replied with a wink: they sat there quietly as they both petted and scratched the cat…
“Isn’t it amazing how relaxing something so simple as a good scratching can be? Helps ease away the worries of the day.”

Max: he cast a glance at his aunt…
“Are you talking about me or Charlie?”

Aunt Trudy: “Both, actually.”

Max: he took a deep breath and looked up at the stars…
“I killed twenty-five hundred people today. Today was the last day they got up in the morning, had breakfast, and began their day. Today they lost their lives over a…machine…a thing. How is that right?”

Aunt Trudy: she scratched Charlie’s haunches and wondered how he’d gotten so fat…
“Who said it had to be? Max, if you’re looking for clear-cut, right and wrong, you’ll never find it. It’s all shades of gray, some are lighter or darker than others.”
She stopped and looked him in the eye…
“They got up today and decided to gamble with their lives over a machine and lost. You can’t control that, only react to it. It wasn’t easy and I hope it never will be.”
She felt a cold nose rooting her hand up for more scratching, which she obliged.

Max: “That’s it? No, it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t kill them, they did it to themselves, think of all the people that might have died if they’d succeeded? None of that?”

Aunt Trudy: “Nope. No need to tell you what you obviously already know.”
She patted his leg affectionately…
“The fact that you’re not taking the loss of their lives casually tells me that you are the right man for the job.”

Max: “Am I?”

Aunt Trudy: “Yes, now I’m old and tired and believe I’ll turn in. When you get to be my age, you need all the beauty sleep you can get and I have another diplomat to…chat with tomorrow. Need to be on your toes for them, don’t ya know. Good night dear.”
She patted him on the knee again as she rose and secured Charlie in her arms.

Max: he rose and gave her a peck on the cheek: after a moment’s thought, he called after her…
“Wait, what exactly did you and Larek chat about at the reception yesterday?”

Aunt Trudy: she gave him a slight wave of the hand and called back…
“Good night, dear. Sweet dreams.”

Ah, like a lady, the Fates can’t reveal all their secrets, it’s more exciting to keep them guessing.

Part 6

Setting: Royal Antarian Ship, lounge area, following evening

Larek: he smirked at the sight of Max’s Aunt Trudy monopolizing Prince Tavner’s time: he knew first hand that Tavner didn’t stand a chance: he gave a small bow as King Zan joined him…
“Your Majesty.”

Max: he returned the slight bow greeting…
“Chancellor Larek.”
His eyes followed to where Larek had been looking: spotting Aunt Trudy with Prince Tavner, he grinned slightly…
“He doesn’t stand a chance.”

Larek: he chuckled…
“Indeed. She is an intriguing and charming dinner companion.”
His grin brightened a bit more…
“I’m glad that Prince Tavner has the pleasure of experiencing it. Perhaps you should have her accompany Her Royal Highness Princess Ava and Sir Kyle when they visit Vintar next month. I’m sure Crown Prince Lanua would be most enchanted by her.”
{Yes, I would love for the head of the ultimate spy ring in the Whirlwind Galaxy to match wits with Miss Trudy Evans. I would actually pay to see such an event.}: he smiled with delight at the prospect.

Max: he smirked a bit, as it wasn’t hard to follow Larek’s train of thought…
“Perhaps she will. After all, she does love to travel and meet new people. I’ll mention it to her.”
His smile grew a bit…
“Of course she has already expressed interest in visiting Renular, particularly the Ruan High Temple.”

Larek: he bowed slightly as he continued to smile and consider which relative would be ‘safe’ to have as her escort…
“It would be an honor to have her visit anytime. And you and Queen Elizabeth as well.”

Max: “We would be delighted to once things on Antar are settled a bit.”
He sighed…
“But I’m afraid that may be a while though.”

Larek: “Undoubtedly, but remember that there are many Antarians now living on Renular that will be remaining, but they still consider you their king and would very much appreciate a visit when the timing is right. And don’t forget that many are sending much needed credits ‘home.’”

Max: he sighed and nodded again: a political visit: he wished that not everything had to be political…
“Of course. When the timing is right, we would love to. Thank you, Larek.”

Larek: he looked kindly at the young king and old friend…
“Anytime Max. Anytime.”

~

Setting: Later that same evening, arboretum

Tavner: he cocked his head to one side as he watched the creature wiggle its way through the underbrush of the cordoned off part of the arboretum: he wondered what the name ‘Ralph’ meant: he shrugged as he decided it probably wasn’t important.

Max: he watched him from the entrance for a moment before approaching…
“Your Highness.”

Tavner: he spun around and bowed…
“Your Majesty. I am honored.”

Max: “As am I.”
He glanced at the snake as it sought out a place to hide…
“I see you’ve met Ralph.”

Tavner: “Yes, an interesting creature. Is he a pet?”

Max: he chuckled…
“Sort of. He was a parting gift to Princess Isabel from Prince Zan. A little something for her to remember him by.”

Tavner: he glanced back down just as the creature slipped away from view: he was surprised: it had been his experience that most people, females in particular, preferred softer, more touchable creatures as pets…
“Princess Isabel enjoys these types of creatures?”

Max: he laughed…
“Not exactly, but Prince Zan enjoys, um, surprising her.”

Tavner: he thought for a moment then laughed lightly…
“Ah, I see. Yes, I had two younger sisters myself.”

Max: they laughed a little and then fell silent for a moment…
“Was Princess Ava’s mother one of them?”

Tavner: “Yes. She was born after I had already left for secondary school. She was the baby of the family and was treated as such.”

Max: “What happened to her?”

Tavner: he took a deep breath as he recalled his little sister: he could still picture her as that little girl that he would play hide-n-seek with in the garden…
“She had been a bit of a surprise to my parents. They hadn’t planned on any more children, but there she was, and they spoiled her shamelessly. We all did. But she managed to turn out to be a charming young lady in spite of it. She fell in love with a young nobleman. His family wasn’t very highly ranked, marginal at best. But she loved him, and he her. Father never could deny her anything, so they were married. A little less than a year later Ava was born.
When Ava was about a year old, she was left in my parents’ care so they could tour some outer colonies. A sort of a goodwill tour representing the family.”
He shook his head sadly…
“It was a freak accident, a one-in-a-million chance of ever happening. Two meteors collided just outside of monitored space. A piece of one broke off and came hurdling towards them. It was too small to be picked up initially on the scanners and by the time they did, it was too late. There was nothing left of the ship or anyone on board.”
He sighed heavily…
“As you can imagine, everyone took it very badly. I was newly married and my wife and I offered to raise Ava but my parents decided they wanted to. She was the only thing they had left of their youngest daughter.”
He gave the young man standing next him a level gaze…
“They were delighted when Zan and Ava agreed to the marriage. It was considered a good match.”

Max: he cleared his throat and met the gaze…
“I am truly sorry for the loss of your sister. As much as Isabel can annoy me at times, I would be lost without her. But please, don’t ever tell her I said that.”
He was glad to see him smile again for a moment…
“And the marriage between Prince Zan and Princess Ava is a good one. They are very happy together, even if it was an arranged marriage.”

Tavner: “It wasn’t totally arranged. Zan and Ava had known each other since they were young children. And they had agreed to it. Your Majesty, please don’t take this wrong for I mean no disrespect. Queen Elizabeth is a remarkable woman and has the makings of a great queen, but under normal circumstances it is unlikely that the future king of Antar would ever meet a…shop-keep’s daughter, let alone marry her. She simply would not be included in the rather selective group of prospective brides. Again, please, no disrespect is intended.”

Max: he pursed his lips as he pondered this…
“Royals only marry other royals. Is that it?”

Tavner: “Basically, yes. Or at the very least, a very highly born noble lady or lord. Such as the match between Lord Rath and Princess Vilandra.”

Max: “Is that why you were considering Lonnie as a possible bride? Limited selection?”

Tavner: he snorted and shook his head…
“I have been a widower for many years. It was an intriguing prospect. Not particularly my first choice though. I find that too much intrigue can be harmful to one’s health if one is not careful.”

Max: he laughed…
“Yes, I can see where that might be true.”
Tavner joined in the laughter before they both turned more serious…
“I wanted to thank you for all your assistance. The information you provided has always been most helpful. It allowed us to prepare for various ‘events’ that we otherwise… Hell, what I’m saying is that it saved our asses more than a few times. Thank you.”

Tavner: he was surprised by the familiarity of the language and wondered if this was a possible opening up to even closer ties, similar to that between Chancellor Larek and King Zan, correction, King Max: it wouldn’t be a bad thing, he decided…
“You’re welcome, Max.”

Max: he nodded and gave him a knowing smile: he understood the significance of Tavner using his familiar human name, friendship, he hoped: he knew that he was going to need all the friends he could get for whatever the future held.

~

Setting: Following day, forward lounge

Aunt Trudy: she had spent the last hour instructing the barkeep on the proper use of gin: she spent some time tasting the results to make sure they were up to par: so far, so good: now she was looking for a likely candidate to help her brush up on a certain skill that was going to go stale if she didn’t get some practice in: she smiled and waved as a prospective test subject came in…
“Michael. Michael, over here, dear.”

Michael: he came over to her table and took a seat…
“Hey Aunt Trudy. What’s up?”

Aunt Trudy: “Do you have a bit of time, dear?”

Michael: “Mmm maybe a little. What did ya have in mind?”

Aunt Trudy: “Oh just a bit of cards. It won’t take too long. I promise.”
She smiled sweetly at him.

Michael: he grinned: he had a few tricks up his sleeve that he’d been itching to try…
“M’kay, deal.”

Aunt Trudy: “Why thank you, dear. I’d hate to get rusty.”
She reached into her satchel, pulled out a deck of cards, and began to lay them out.

Michael: he recoiled in dread…
“Wait a minute. What kind of cards are those?”

Aunt Trudy: “Why tarot cards, of course. I haven’t done a good reading in some time.”

Michael: “Okay. Look. Aunt Trudy, I don’t buy into all that cra…uh, stuff.”

Aunt Trudy: “Well, what could it possibly hurt, then? If you think it’s just tomfoolery, what would it matter?”
She patted his hand…
“Just indulge an old woman, eh?”

Michael: he slumped in his chair in defeat…
“Fine. I just don’t want to hear it though. ’kay?”

Aunt Trudy: “Of course, dear. Not a problem. Now let’s see what we’ve got.”
She turned over the first card and raised an eyebrow…
“Hmmm.”
She turned over the second card and raised another eyebrow…
“Indeed.”
And the next card…
“Well now, that is interesting.”
And the next…
“My, my, my, humph.”
The next…
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
With the next she shook her head…
“That many? So soon?”

Michael: he was getting a little more freaked with each additional card.

Aunt Trudy: her eyes almost popped out with the next card…
“Hmm, I never would have guessed that.”
And finally the last one…
“You certainly are going to be a busy boy.”

Michael: he couldn’t stand it…
“WHAT?”

Aunt Trudy: she patted his hand kindly and then gathered up her cards…
“Now dear, I promised not to tell you and I always keep my promise. I think Maria mentioned something about having the afternoon free. Maybe I’ll see if she wants to do something. Thank you dear for indulging an old woman.”
She patted his hand once more and then departed.

Michael: he blinked several times at the empty chair across the table from him as her departing words registered: she was going to see Maria: she had tarot cards: she wouldn’t tell him what she’d read but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell…{OH SHIT!}: he practically knocked the chair over as he stood and then raced out of the lounge…
“Aunt Trudy…WAIT!”

~

Setting: Royal Antarian Ship, conference room, five days later

Max: he groaned inward: they arrived yesterday like a wave of locusts and he was reverently wishing for a flock of seagulls to swoop down and gobble them up: he’d even be willing to convert to Mormonism to make it happen: he was certain that administrators and other ‘helpful’ assistants were going to be the death of him…
“Administrator Gyron, please continue the review of the ceremony.”

Gyron: there were only two days to go before King Zan’s triumphant return to Antar, and it was his job to make sure it had all the pomp and circumstance such an historic event demanded, as well as making sure it paid appropriate gratitude to the correct individuals of importance: he cast a disapproving glance towards Trevan, King Zan’s temporary secretary, who was standing at the back of the room remaining silent: this Trevan was not sufficiently ranked to warrant such a position and as a result had meddled in things he wasn’t qualified for: Gyron was certain it would take much to undo the damage Trevan had done in instructing King Zan on how things ran in the royal court: he bowed respectfully to his sovereign…
“Of course, Your Majesty. The shuttle will land at this courtyard, near the great Chamber of Houses, where Your Majesty will be greeted by your council. You will then tour the Chamber before returning to your shuttle to be taken to your home, Antarra Palace, where a reception will be held and introductions to your staff will be made.”

Max: his eyes narrowed in suspicion…
“My staff?”

Gyron: “Yes, Your Majesty. In your absence, I was selected to make the appropriate appointments.”
He handed over an electronic tablet…
“Here is a list of the selections along with their qualifications and House affiliations.”
He couldn’t help the slight smirk that appeared: he, of course, had heard the ridiculous rumor that King Zan had appointed Trevan as his head of staff and had asked him to draw up a list omitting the importance of the Houses: ridiculous, just ridiculous.

Max: “You’ve…selected my staff for me.”
He fought the urge to rip him a new one: he couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.

Gyron: he immediately realized that the king was displeased…
“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but it was necessary in order to keep the households running. Of course they serve at the king’s pleasure. Please Your Majesty, review the appointments and I will make any changes that you deem fit.”
Of course he would point out the reasons why such changes were not wise and the king would listen, after all, a wise king always listens to his head of staff, for only the head of staff can hire or fire the royal staff, with the exception of the king or queen naturally: and that’s what he will be, the head of the royal staff.

Max: he eyed the list warily: he had no idea who was who and obviously Gyron knew it: he looked around the room, leeches, all wanting a piece of him or favors or titles: all eager to please so long as they got something more in return: all but one: he was an elderly man with white hair and wise eyes who walked with the help of a cane and so far had said nor did anything other than to introduce himself as Jemmin: he still sat there saying nothing but taking it all in, Max was sure: he turned his attention back to the lead, Administrator Gyron…
“Well, thank you for your hard work and assistance, Administrator Gyron…”
He looked around the room…
“To all of you. Thank you. That will be all for now.”

Gyron: he knew the king would see the logic to accepting his appointments: the king was barely more than a youth and would require much tutelage and Gyron would be there with it: they all rose, except that old fool Jemmin, who’d been forced on them as a favor to Trillian House: Jemmin had served as head of his house for decades and then when Kivar’s fall was imminent, had simply stepped aside for his oldest daughter to ascend to the position: foolish old man: he had served his house well: under his lead they had risen from twenty-seventh to ninth and now had a seat on the council: and he had done it while declaring no House alliance to Kivar or King Zan: and then he stepped aside and allowed his daughter to claim the coveted council seat: fool: the old man finally rose to his feet with the aide of that cane he used, why he simply couldn’t have whatever was wrong healed was beyond him: he bowed to his king and then led the procession out the door.

Max: he watched them file out and noted the stiffness in which the old man walked…
“Lord Jemmin, I was wondering if there was anything that I could do for you?”

Jemmin: he bowed respectfully…
“No need to trouble yourself, Your Majesty. Even the highest ranked healer cannot cure old age, but I thank you for your concern.”

Max: “Nevertheless, I would like for you to take tea with me this afternoon so we may discuss it. If you have the time?”

Jemmin: he nodded…
“Of course, I would be honored, Your Majesty.”

Max: “Good. This afternoon then, I look forward to it.”
He returned the man’s smile and waited for the door to close: he reached down and picked up the list of appointments and looked over at his very silent secretary…
“You warned me, didn’t you?”

Trevan: “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Do you still require my services?”

Max: “Damn straight I do. Look over this list. Compare it to the one you’ve done and let me know what you think. I expect you to make fair assessments. If they don’t meet with the guidelines we’d discussed, then you’ll need to make the necessary staff changes.”

Trevan: he nodded and took the list…
“Your Majesty, you do realize that Gyron is expecting to be your head of staff.”

Max: “I had suspected as much, but why do you say that?”

Trevan: “Other than yourself and Queen Elizabeth, only the head of staff can hire or dismiss royal staff. He has already done the hiring.”

Max: “Well, as he pointed out, they all serve at the king’s pleasure and right now, I’m not pleased by his actions. Let me know what your recommendations are. And Trevan, I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Trevan: he bowed and smiled…
“I won’t. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

~

Setting: Later that afternoon, King’s quarters

Trudy: she looked behind the lounge chair with no luck…
“Michael, I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this. You said you don’t believe in it, so why does it upset you so much?”
She walked over to check the closet again: that was his favorite hiding spot.

Michael: he was at his wits’ end: he’d been in hell for the last five days and was desperate…
“I don’t believe it, but Maria does. Please Aunt Trudy, I’m begging you, please do another reading and tell her it’s all changed.”

Trudy: she sighed in frustration: where could he have gone: she headed to the bed and started to bend down but heard her knees creak and straightened back up…
“Umph. Michael, look underneath the bed.”

Michael: he did as he was told.

Trudy: “Michael, it won’t work. I’ll still see the same things.”

Michael: he stood up…
“So?”

Trudy: “So? Was it under the bed?”

Michael: “Wha…”
He looked back at the bed for a moment…
“Nothing…wait, what are we looking for again?”

Trudy: “Charlie. He’s gotten quite adventurous lately.”

Michael: he couldn’t help the smirk: Charlie loved their king and couldn’t get enough of playing with him…
“Did you check with Max?”

Trudy: she sighed…
“Not yet but I suppose I’ll have to.”

Michael: he followed her as she headed to the door of the King’s meeting room…
“So will you?”

Trudy: “Will I what?”

Michael: “Give Maria a different reading.”

Trudy: “No Michael, I will not lie to her.”

Michael: “But Aunt Trudy, you don’t know the hell she’s putting me through!”

Trudy: “Oh, but I have an idea. I bet that the whole ship has.”

Michael: “Aunt Trudy…please! I’m desperate. I’ll do anything!”

Trudy: “Anything? Fine, here’s an idea, marry her already!”

Michael: “Why?”

Trudy: she shook her head and rolled her eyes…
“Sometimes I wonder why I even try. Sorry Michael, but that’s the best I can do.”

Michael: “Come on Aunt Trudy, I’m dying here.”

Trudy: she patted his hand…
“Look on the bright side. It could be worse.”

Michael: “How?”

Trudy: “Amy could be here.”

~

Setting: Same time, King’s sitting/conference room

Jemmin: he waited patiently as Trevan poured the tea for him and King Zan…
“Thank you, Trevan.”

Trevan: he gave a slight nod as he finished pouring…
“You’re welcome.”
He turned to Max and bowed before he exited.

Jemmin: he took a sip of the tea and was surprised: it was like none he’d ever had before…
“Intriguing and yet quite soothing. Delicious.”

Max: “It’s Earl Grey, an Earth import. I’m glad you like it.”

Jemmin: “You are most gracious, Your Majesty.”

Max: he leaned back into the sofa to get more comfortable as he sipped his tea…
“Lord Jemmin, are you sure that there’s nothing I can do to ease any discomfort you have?”

Jemmin: “Ah no, I’m afraid I have already been thoroughly looked over. It seems that time eventually catches up to us all. But it was very kind of you to ask.”

Max: he regarded the elderly gentleman for a moment: his eyes were warm and friendly and his mannerism was relaxed and genuine: ‘grandfatherly’ came to mind: he decided to take a chance…
“You’ve been rather quiet since arriving, unlike others.”

Jemmin: his mouth quirked up a bit as he sipped his tea…
“I have found that it is a waste of breath to give advice when none is requested. And at my age I must conserve what breaths I have left.”

Max: he saw the mirth in his eyes and allowed himself a small smile in return…
“Then I will ask. What do you think of Gyron’s welcoming plan?”

Jemmin: he sighed as he considered his reply…
“I am an old man, retired from politics but with much experience so I will tell you what I see happening. You are being set up. Gyron’s plan has you going directly to the House of Chambers to be greeted, to pay homage to, as if it was they that held and safe guarded your power for you for so many years. He has carefully set it up so that minimal ‘regular’ people will have a chance to catch even a glimpse of you before being sequestered away to be looked after by a select few that he hand-picked.”

Max: he smiled for real this time as he put his teacup down…
“That’s what I was thinking as well. Would you be willing to assist me and my people in coming up with an alternative?”
He could see the old man hesitating…
“I need you, Lord Jemmin.”

Jemmin: “You were always very persuasive, Your Majesty, but I am an old man. I have spent many years in service to the crown and my people. And it has cost me dearly. When I was a lad, my grandfather used to take me on walks in the hills behind our estate. We would always wind up in this meadow that was ringed by cherem trees. In the spring the trees would be in full bloom and their branches were alive with thousands of butterflies that we would catch and release. We would sit and have lunch in the meadow and Grandfather would tell me stories of times long past.”
He paused at the happy memory for a moment before turning serious…
“I always meant to take my own children to that meadow but I was a young man out to make my mark. There was just never enough time. Before I even realized it, my children were grown and starting lives of their own. I took my granddaughter there once, but times were difficult with Kivar and the war. Again, no time.”
He leveled a look at his young king…
“I will help you as much as I can but…my great-grandson is six. I now have little time left in this universe and I wish nothing more than to go for long walks with him, tell him stories of long ago, and catch butterflies.”

Max: “I have many fond memories of time spent with my adoptive grandparents and listening to their stories of the ‘olden’ days. I cherished every minute of it. I hope your grandchildren get to have many such memories as well. I thank you for whatever time you can spare.”

Jemmin: “Yes, of course. Again, you are very kind. Now, I think we should take a look at a layout of the city and see how we can correct a few things. Starting with letting as many people as possible see their king. Now if you…”
The door opened and two people entered the room: one he thought might be Lord Rath, but he had no clue who the lady was but she was definitely holding her own against the head of the second highest House of Antar: he had to smile.

Michael: “Amy?”
He shuddered…
“Great. That’s all I need. Look, just tell her that your radar was bent a little and…”

Trudy: she paused, turned, stood her ground, and wagged her finger at him…
“Young man, don’t you dare even pretend to tell me what to do. If you don’t like what I have to say, then don’t ask!”

Michael: he instinctively backed up…
“I…I’m not telling you what to do. And I didn’t ask! You waylaid me and then blabbed to Maria!”

Trudy: “I did not blab. I simply saw the same for you as I did Maria. And as for being waylaid…learn to be quicker on your feet! It’s not my fault that I saw your and Maria’s two children standing there at your wedding. I thought Maria would be delighted to know that you two finally get married. I don’t know what you’re waiting for anyhow.”
She turned slightly and noticed that they were weren’t alone…
“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I had no idea you were having a meeting. Please forgive the intrusion. Michael and I were just on our way to see if…you haven’t seen Charlie, have you?”

Max: he paled: he’d just gotten the stench out of all of his clothes…
“No. He’s loose again?”

Trudy: she sighed…
“I’m afraid so. He loves your stuff so much that I thought he might be hanging around your room. We were just going to go check.”
She looked back at the grumpy young man…
“Weren’t we, Michael?”

Michael: “Um, yeah.”

Trudy: she looked at the elder man standing with the help of a cane: she thought he had kind eyes…
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Max: “Oh, please let me. Aunt Trudy, this is Lord Jemmin of Trillian House. Lord Jemmin, this is my grandaunt on my adoptive father’s side, Ms. Trudy Evans. And I believe you met Lord Michael, Head of Byral House, when you arrived.”

Jemmin: he was surprised when she extended her hand in greeting: it’s not how it was normally done, but it would be rude for him to refuse the greeting so he took her hand in kind…
“Ms. Trudy Evans, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Trudy: “The pleasure is mutual. I…”

**Flash**
An ornate meeting chamber: angry voices: children: tempers flaring: accusations: Isabel and Maria standing firm.

**Flash**
Children laughing: the smell of sweet nectar: a soft breeze.

The flashes were too fast to tell what was really happening: she would have to ponder it.

Jemmin: her eyes bore into him but he wasn’t entirely sure what it was she was seeing: she seemed very far away, though she never moved…
“Lady Trudy, are you alright?”

Max: he and Michael both saw her pale for a moment and stepped towards her…
“Aunt Trudy?”

Trudy: she shook her head to clear it…
“Yes, of course. I’m fine. I apologize for interrupting your meeting. I’ll be on my way now.”
She turned to her reluctant helper…
“Come along, Michael. We have a wayward cat to find.”

Max: watched them buzz the connecting door to his and Liz’s quarters and briefly wondered if he should have mentioned to Michael that Maria was there helping Liz make arrangements for their departure: the door opened and…too late.

Maria: answering the door…
“Aunt Trudy, come on in and…”
She spotted her intended…
“You! I’m still not speaking to you.”

Michael: “Yeah? I’ll believe that when you’re not blathering away in my head!”

Maria: “Blather? BLATHER! I DO NOT BLATHER! And I wouldn’t marry you, let alone have two kids beforehand, if you were the last alien on Earth!”

Michael: “WE AREN’T ON EARTH!”

Max: the door closed and thankfully they could no longer hear the discussion: he was surprised to hear laughter from Jemmin but it was contagious…
“They are…um…”

Jemmin: between laughs…
“Lord Rath…pardon me, Lord Michael, has not changed, I see.”

Max: wiping the tears from his eyes…
“He hasn’t?”

Jemmin: “Indeed not. That’s why he was thought to have been a good match for Princess Vilandra. He liked his women to be…challenging.”

Max: he laughed even harder…
“Maria is that.”
He shook his head…
“He doesn’t stand a chance.”

Jemmin: “Ahh, you will find that none of us ever did.”
They took a few moments to get back on track…
“So Your Majesty, I think it would help to have a three-dimensional map in front of us and perhaps your Secretary Trevan here to assist as well. He’s a fine man. His house did not deserve to be demoted as such. I’m glad to see steps being taken to correct that.”

Max: an hour later and they were well on their way to coming up with an alternate plan when the connecting door to his suite opened and Aunt Trudy, with Charlie in her arms, came in, followed by an even grumpier Michael…
“You found him.”

Trudy: “Yes, he was taking a nap on your robe. Liz said that you might want to…uh, work your magic on it tonight. Well, I think I’ll retire early. I have a lot of packing to do in the morning.”
She paused and turned to Jemmin…
“I am glad we had the chance to meet, and I hope that you get to catch many butterflies. Good evening, gentlemen.”

The young should always listen to their elderly for they speak from experience and sometimes, for the Fates as well.

Part 7

Setting: Royal Antarian ship, King’s conference room, following morning

Max: he stared as the golden reds of the dawn’s rays rose on the far side of the planet: the colors were so crisp and clean when viewed from space: but it was an illusion: there was no dawn in space: it was simply the ship’s orbit creating it: his focus shifted to the planet below, Antar: home: they had come into orbit in the wee hours of the new day: there were vast browns and greens of the land masses and the various blues of the oceans that comprised his home world: this was home: this was where his life had been created: where he felt drawn to: where his dreams took him: so why did he still feel so alien?

Gyron: he waited patiently while his king viewed his home world: after so many years, an entire lifetime, spent on an alien world, it must feel good to finally be home: he certainly was glad to be back and he’d only been gone for a few days: he couldn’t imagine what it was like for His Majesty: from the early hour it was obvious that His Majesty had gotten very little sleep: it must be all the excitement of returning home, he decided.

Max: he could feel eyes watching him: he knew Gyron was there, he’d sent for him: he’d had a long talk with his dad last night: he needed to somehow keep Gyron as an ally if at all possible, but that wasn’t going to be easy after basically firing him: he turned and faced the man and handed him the revised plan…
“Administer Gyron, thank you for meeting me so early. I went over the plans for my return and made some adjustments to it.”

Gyron: he bowed politely and started to scan the document: his mouth dropped open in shock.

Max: he could tell that Gyron wasn’t exactly pleased by what he read…
“I’ll need your assistance in making the arrangements.”

Gyron: it was with great effort that he got his mouth working properly…
“Of course, Your Majesty. This will take quite a bit of doing, especially on such short notice.”
He glanced down at the plan…
“Perhaps the tour of the northern region could be postponed. That region is still a bit ‘unstable’ and I doubt the security…”

Max: “No, the plan stands as is. Coordinate security through Sir Kyle. Secretary Trevan has the details but can use your help with some of the logistics.”

Gryon: he looked up in alarm as his stomach took on that sinking feeling…
“Secretary Trevan? Your Majesty, may I ask what exactly his role is to be in all of this?”

Max: “He’s my head secretary.”
He silently congratulated Gyron for keeping what had to be a major disappointment from showing…
“Gyron, I appreciate all that you have done for me. I understand that the appointments you made are actually very good ones, and unless there are mitigating circumstances, most will remain in their posts. That speaks well of your abilities. And I would like for you to stay on if at all possible as my head undersecretary. You’d coordinate with Trevan and help carry out my policies. Would you be interested?”

Gyron: he pondered the position: it obviously was a coveted position, one that would most likely carry much weight and prestige, but still, he wouldn’t be the one making the decisions…
“Your Majesty, make I ask why Trevan?”

Max: “He understands me and doesn’t bat an eye at my human ‘peculiarities.’ But mostly, he respects the fact that I am king and doesn’t try to manipulate me or my youth.”
He gave Gyron a hard gaze…
“I trust him.”

Gyron: he felt his cheeks grow warm: he had thought of the king as a boy and had treated him as such: he’d thought the king would be too young to know the difference: he’d been wrong: he nodded his head in agreement: it wasn’t the position he’d wanted but it was better than walking away empty handed…
“I understand, Your Majesty. And I accept the position you’ve offered. It is an honor. Thank you.”

Max: “Good. Now I think we’ve all got quite a bit to do.”

~

Setting: Shuttlecraft, early the next morning

Max: the shuttle was quiet as they coasted along in low altitude over the northern hemisphere where the worst fighting had taken place: there were a few patches of greenery here and there, but for the most part it was brown or black: Kivar had been particularly cruel to this area: he’d destroyed everything he could as his troops retreated: fortunately this had been a sparsely populated area, mainly agricultural: and unfortunately it was mainly agricultural: less people were killed than if there had been large cities, but the ones that remained were left to starve or die of exposure, and since this area was the breadbasket and salad bowl of Antar, eventually the rest of the planet would starve too: he saw town after town that was nothing but burned out rubble, yet every once in a while, he’d see a patchwork of neat fields that reminded him of his view from an airplane of the great plains of America: somehow the people had survived and he wanted to meet them: a small town that appeared no different from the rest came into view, Antuwan: it had been selected at random and had been notified only a few hours ago to expect visitors: his shuttle fired its landing thrusters and came to a stop just at the edge of town along with the second shuttle that had been following them: due to security, Isabel and Alex, along with his parents, Aunt Trudy, and Prince Philip, were in the second shuttle: the side door pulled smoothly open and slightly reddish rays of the Antarian sun greeted him: Liz held his hand tightly as together they stepped onto Antarian soil for the first time: before them stood a very elderly man…
“Good morning, sir. Thank you for coming to greet us.”

Corran: he bowed the best he could and then stood as tall as his old bones would allow…
“We are greatly honored, Your Majesty. I am Constable Corran.”

Max: he smiled as the rest of his family disembarked and came to stand next to him…
“It’s nice to meet you, Constable Corran. Let me introduce you to my wife, Queen Liz, and the rest of my family.”
He made the necessary introductions before continuing…
“This seemed a good place to see Antar for the first time. Would show us your town, Constable?”

Corran: “I would be delighted, Your Majesty.”
They proceeded through the town: there wasn’t too much to see actually: Antuwan had never been more than a farming village but now there was even less: most of the rubble had been cleared away with few buildings remaining upright, and none completely intact except for a new modular one at the edge of town.

Liz: as she looked around, she got a very unsettling feeling: it was too quiet…
“Constable Corran, where are all the people?”

Corran: he gave her a sad look…
“Gone. They’re all gone. When Kivar’s troops came through they took all but the very young and the very old. Men and women, anyone that could hold a weapon.”

Liz: “But where are they? The elderly and the children?”

Corran: “Come, we’re almost there.”
It wasn’t a pretty building, quite square and boxy, but it was alive with children…
“This is the orphanage, set up by the disciples of Ruan. Here the disciples and what remains of the grandparents and great-grandparents care for the children. It isn’t ideal, but it is safe and the children are fed and clothed and have a roof over their heads. And during the day school is held outdoors in the sun, and then chores are done in the evening.”

Isabel: she watched as dozens of children sat in the sun with tablets in their little hands listening as a priestess gave instructions…
“They live here? All of them?”

Corran: he nodded…
“And more.”

Diane: she held her grandson in her arms a little tighter: all these children growing up in an orphanage without parents: they were all so young, too young…
“Where are the older children? The adolescents and teenagers?”

Corran: he sighed: she’d just hit upon his greatest pride and his greatest shame…
“Come, I’ll show you.”
The village sat upon a slight hill so that the occasional spring flood wouldn’t decimate it: they walked along to the edge and looked out at the rich and fertile flood plain: it was alive with activity…
“As I said, when Kivar came through two years ago, he took all that were or appeared to be over the age of fifteen. Very few ever came back.”
He nodded towards the fields…
“Out there are the younger brothers and sisters of the ones that were stolen from us. Most are 14 to 17 years old now.”

Max: he felt sick: these were kids, younger than him, and yet there they were sitting atop huge tractors and other machinery working the fields…
“But I thought that their Houses were supposed to take care of them? That an orphan could petition their Houses for help?”

Corran: he snorted in distaste…
“Oh they can. And then they get to watch their Houses swoop in and take over their lands as their own.”
He shook his head…
“We’ve heard of it happening over and over again. Oh, don’t get me wrong, some Houses have acted very honorably but many others…well, we decided as a town that we would take a different route. The children help each other, and I have to admit that not only the heavy machinery that was sent by Earth, but also the engineers sent to show them how to use it, have been a miracle. The engineers go from town to town to make sure all is running smoothly. And they’ve been…well, I think mentors about covers it. It’s not ideal, but it’s working. With luck we should have a good harvest to sell come summer, and with the proceeds we will start rebuilding some of the town and hopefully make the lives of the children better.”

Diane: “But…but what about the family unit? This…”

Corran: “I’m afraid that has suffered greatly. It had to. There simply weren’t enough grandparents to go around or separate housing. A collective was the only way to keep it all together. But you are correct. This is a generation that will grow up without parents, and by the time they are parents themselves, most of us grandparents will have passed on, leaving the next generation without knowing what grandparents are or the traditions they would have shared. But we will do the best that we can while we are here.”

Max: he felt deep sorrow for them: he and Isabel had been orphans and, but for the grace of God, could have ended up without families or traditions: he owed a lot to his parents and his grandparents and aunts and uncles, even bratty cousins: he owed these kids a lot too: they were the ones that would be feeding his world…
“What can we do to help?”

Corran: he smiled slightly: he’d hoped that would be his king’s response…
“More housing. Some of the older ones…well, they want some space for themselves. And in a few years they will be thinking of marriage and families of their own. And teachers. We are desperate for teachers, both for formal education and others to teach them how to set up those houses and life in general. And…”
He paused: it was a luxury but the children had been through so much…
“And toys. The children make their own, but…well, a doll, a ball, anything would be appreciated.”

Max: he smiled: toys: it seemed so simple, so insignificant, yet he knew it could make a world of difference…
“I think we can help with that. I know of many charities on Earth that might be able to help with the toys, and as for the teachers, I’ll make it a priority.”

Corran: his eyes were misty…
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Max: he looked out at the fields again…
“They’re amazing. You’ve done well for your town and its people, Constable Corran.”

~

Setting: Shuttle, nearing Antaria

Max: the sprawling city below him was magnificent: other than some garrisons on the outskirts of the city, it had been largely untouched by the war: he saw the palace on the hill overlooking the sea to the east and a river to the north: surrounding the palace compound were the Chamber of Houses and High Court, along with various other government buildings, and a little further were the upscale ‘city’ homes of the elite, and further out were the more middle class, and further still, as well as on the other side of the river, were the lower classes in amongst factories and plants and mills of various natures: except for the First Temple of Ruan: the temple was set on a smaller hill on the opposite side of river from the palace compound: the temple was large and sprawling, much like the city: it served the masses: he’d been told that the hill itself was dug out and now hollow, with various entrances at various levels serving various functions: there was a day care center, a hospice, a place of worship of course, sanctuaries, training center and school, and various warehouses and stores for the poor: and it was surrounded by the people that it served the most, those in need: and that’s where they were going to land.

Gyron: he looked out at the city and could see the masses lining the route that the royals were going to take: he still didn’t think this was a good idea, but the king was adamant: they would land at the main entrance of the temple where the king would thank the priest for allowing them the use of the royal cruiser for their journey home, and after a tour of the temple, they would ‘walk’ the almost half mile to the palace and meet and greet as many people along the route as possible: that is, most of them would walk, the king’s adoptive aunt, citing advanced age, would ride in a shuttle and meet them at the palace, along with the adoptive parents and the babe Prince Philip: this was bound to be a very long walk and was deemed too much for one so young: but the Royal Four would all be there with their respective spouses: his frown deepened as they neared the temple: it was not exactly in a proper neighborhood and those gathering near it were undoubtedly of dubious disposition: it would be better once they crossed the river to the more affluent and influential side of town.

Trevan: he wasn’t overly fond of his new assistant but he understood why His Majesty had done it: politics: Max had enough to do and didn’t need to make any more enemies: but that didn’t mean he had to like it, or even like him: he noticed the scowl on Gyron’s face and looked down, they were currently over the dock warehouses where interplanetary cargo was shipped and received: his grandfather had been a dock worker: it was hard work and long hours for barely adequate pay, but it was honorable work and he had been very proud of his grandfather…
“They’re all his people, rich or poor, and everything in between.”

Gyron: he sighed…
“I suppose so.”

Max: he felt the shuttle come to a smooth landing on the designated landing pad: he turned to his wife…
“You ready?”

Liz: she squeezed his hand in assurance…
“Let’s go meet your people.”

Max: “No, our people. You’re their queen.”
He gave her a kiss just as the door slid open…
“There’s no backing out now. Let’s go.”
He waited for a moment as Liz stood and straightened her dress: she was beautiful…
“They’re going to love you.”

Demar: he watched as the shuttles landed: he’d been there when both sets of the Royal Four were conceived but he never imagined he’d be the one to officially greet them on their return home: his first impression of them as they stepped out of the shuttle was how young they all were: he knew that of course, but to actually see them…and yet they had accomplished so much already: but there was so much more that needed to be done: he bowed respectfully as the king and queen approached…
“Your Majesties, I am First Priest of Antar, Demar. Welcome home.”

Max: “Your Eminence, thank you. It’s good to finally return home.”
He made the introductions to the rest of his family and friends and then glanced around at the huge building that dominated the top of the hill…
“The temple looks impressive. We would very much like a tour, if you have the time.”

Demar: “I would be honored, Your Majesty.”
He lead them into the main building with it’s ornate carvings that shimmered in the sun, fine woods that were polished to a smooth as silk finish, and marbles of many colors and hues that both cooled and warmed the temple…
“This is the first temple of the Order of Ruan. Part of it was originally built almost 2,500 years ago. It has been rebuilt and expanded several times since then.”

Liz: she marveled at the tall columns and shiny floors: it was grand and majestic but somehow felt ‘homey’ as well: she looked along the ornate carvings that ran along the walls towards the top {okay, so maybe homey doesn’t quite fit with the gargoyles}: but it was beautiful: as they neared the center there were magnificent statues made of something akin to marble, but were as white as alabaster and looked as delicate as porcelain…
“These are beautiful. They look so fragile. Who were they?”

Demar: “They were the first disciples, the ones that built this temple, though those statues were done a few centuries later. They were the first to spread the word of Ruan to all parts of Antar. We are now in the oldest portion of the temple. Only this center portion survived.”

Liz: “What happened to it? Decay?”

Demar: “Some, but also war.”

Michael: he loved the gargoyle carvings…
“But I thought Ruan was untouchable? Even in war.”

Demar: “Ah, that is true, but only if everyone believes it and many centuries ago, not all believed. Come let me show you the lower levels. They have many uses today but the original catacombs were built to warehouse documents.”

Liz: “Documents? Like a lending library?”

Demar: “Not exactly. The documents are the recorded history of our world. For the first thousand years Ruan was the sole keeper of our history. Our disciples traveled the world, copying regional and local documents, noting all of the research and discoveries, and recording what they saw with their own eyes. They were witnesses to some of our greatest feats as well as our worst nightmares. And they wrote it all down. The catacombs were built to house them all. It was from these documents that the Granolith was originally programmed.”

Liz: she was in awe…
“Wow, do you still have them? The original documents?”

Demar: “Of course.”

Michael: “Wait. If these were the source documents for the Granolith and one of Kivar’s goals was the knowledge that the Granolith held, then why didn’t he just come here and get it?”

Demar: he actually smiled at the question…
“Because he believed. Plus, we did eventually move them to a secure vault that only a select few know of. It seemed prudent not to test one’s belief too much.”

Michael: he whistled in awe.

Demar: they descended some stairs to the teaching level…
“Here is our academy. All disciples that wish to serve must attend one, but all are welcome.”

Max: he’d been expecting some sort of cave, but found himself in a long corridor lined with doors and with various branches leading off in many directions: it had a high ceiling and was well lit, and he even smelled fresh air…
“Are these all classrooms?”

Demar: “Mostly, and a few offices. Even a couple of dormitories for students that cannot afford other accommodations.”

Kyle: “Not exactly your typical catacomb.”

Demar: he nodded…
“They were transformed centuries ago as the needs of the people and Ruan changed.”
He led them through a maze of corridors until they stood at the outside entrance…
“This is the main entrance to the academy, and from here we can go down a lift to the other levels.”
He showed them the research and development level, which was part of the academy, then onto the health and medical, and hospice level.

Maria: “Why do you need all of this when you have the healers?”

Max: he knew the answer already, first hand…
“Not everything is healable.”

Demar: he regarded King Zan for a moment: he was reportedly a strong healer, a sure sign that he was his mother’s son…
“His Majesty is quite correct. Not all ailments are curable, but it’s more than that. While most healing abilities are instinctive, there are ways to strengthen and help guide them. And curing an illness does not always cure the patient. There are times when a patient should not be cured. Healing is a great gift but a huge burden as well.”
He watched how the king turned to his queen and a sad look passed between them.

Max: he thought of Liz’s grandmother, and then of the children in a cancer ward in Phoenix: he could have used some guidance then but all he had were his instincts: he was thinking that a little training at some point might not be a bad thing: they followed Demar down another level to the day care center: he had to smile at all the little faces running amuck and totally ignoring the visitors: nothing like a little kid to remind him that king or not, he wasn’t really all that special.

Diane: she had to strain to hold onto little Philip: he saw a ball go bouncing along and wanted to go after it: she thought it was intriguing how most of the care providers were elderly: back home they were usually underpaid young people…
“Demar, why are all the providers older?”

Demar: he smiled at the question…
“Actually, it happened by accident. We had a day care facility for the elderly and a separate one for the children. And we were running out of room, so we combined the two. Oh, there are some elderly that cannot tolerate being around the children, or it’s not safe, so they are given a quieter place to rest during their stay here. But for the most part, the children enjoy the attention and the older folks enjoy having someone to spend time with and maybe teach a few things to.”

Liz: she rather liked the sound of that, undivided attention from ‘grandparents’…
“Can anyone send their children here? Are there age restrictions?”

Demar: “We prefer children that are walking and that can do a few things for themselves, potty trained is always desirable. But if there is a true hardship on the parents, we will take even infants. We do have a paid staff to handle those that need more care as well as to supervise everything.”

Liz: “So most of the children and elderly here are of, um, working class?”

Demar: “Yes.”

Liz: “Would you consider one that is not, maybe in a few months?”

Demar: he couldn’t stop his eyebrows from shooting up: he was sure this would undoubtedly cause several more raised eyebrows: but he loved the idea…
“Of course we would. Please let me know when you are ready, Your Majesty.”

Liz: “Thank you.”

Demar: he led them to the last level of the tour, the outreach program area…
“Here we have provisions for those most in need.”

Kyle: he grinned at the bags of foodstuff stamped U.S.A.…
“Glad we could be of assistance.”

Demar: he followed the gaze of the husband of now Princess Royal Tess to the bags of bulk rice…
“Indeed, we are thankful. One can never be too proud when lives are at stake. The generosity of Earth has saved many lives and improved many more.”

Isabel: she was impressed with the neat rows of goods and piles of clothing and household goods…
“How does the distribution work?”

Demar: “We have emergency centers set up to help with the relocation and immediate needs of the displaced due to the war. But it is the tradition of Ruan to live where we work, to get to know the people in the community in which we serve. If they cannot come to us, a disciple is dispatched to seek them out and assess their needs. It makes it easier to determine who truly has needs instead of merely wants, usually for a profit. Though we aren’t infallible. There have been reports of donated goods being sold on the black market. We simply do the best we can.”

Liz: “What about the outcasts? Do you serve them too?”

Demar: “Ruan turns no one away.”

Max: “You’ve done a remarkable job here, Demar.”

Demar: he bowed slightly…
“Thank you for your kind words, but there are many hands helping us.”
He nodded toward the exit…
“I believe you have some people anxious to meet you, Your Majesty.”

Liz: a short time later she gave little Philip a kiss and watched her mother-in-law depart with him in her arms: she glanced at the thousands of people standing out in the afternoon sun waiting for her: she was their queen: she could do this: if she could stand to wear silver-ball antennae for years while serving the citizens of Roswell and oddball tourists greasy food, she could meet the thousands of aliens that were waiting for them: {I wonder if I kept my Crashdown antenna?}.

Max: {I hope so. I’ve had one or two fantasies about those antennae that I’d like to try out. But I do think it would have the same meaning for them if you wore it while greeting them. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. You are fine. And as long as you are by my side, so am I}: he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles…
“Come on my queen. Let’s go for a walk.”

Kyle: he held his hand up to stop them…
“Hold on for a second. Michael’s still checking to make sure the Royal Guard is in place, just in case.”
He’d been in charge of Max’s security while on Earth, thus freeing Michael up to coordinate the alien side of things, and now that they were on Antar he technically held no position but old habits died hard: he held a small communicator to his ear and listened for a few minutes while he looked out at the throng of people lining the route: he finally nodded in consent…
“Okay, they’re as ready as they’ll ever be.”

Maria: she waited as Michael walked back toward them after checking with the guard: they were going to do an old fashion royal walkabout and greet as many aliens as possible: no problem: just go out there and shake hands and smile and say ‘thank you’: what was so hard about that…
“So how are we doing this again?”
They all looked at each other for a moment.

Max: he looked at the people waiting for them: this was it, this was real: they were home…
“Let’s go for a walk.”
He took Liz’s hand and proceeded down the path that led from the temple to a small walk-bridge to the other side of Antaria: there was no turning back.

The Fates offer many turning points in one’s life, and it is up to the individual to choose the right one.

Part 8

Setting: Antarra Palace, same time

Nataria: her breath caught in her throat the first time she saw them: they were no more than tiny dots in the distance but she’d know them anywhere, her children: at long last her children had returned to her: a smile began to spread as she watched her children and their loved ones walk amongst the people, greeting them, talking to them, touching them, and letting them know that the king and his court had returned at long last: she glanced off to the side, toward the shuttle landing pad: a woman and a middle-aged couple descended the shuttle ramp, and in the hands of the woman was…: tears glistened in her eyes as she laid eyes on her little grandson: she dabbed at her eyes as she watched them until they entered the palace proper: she’d meet them later in the day: she turned her attention back to her children and watched as the little dots took on form as they neared: the people were clamoring to touch them and hand them flowers and small tokens of welcome: she heard the door behind her creak open: she knew he was there, she could feel his eyes…
“Well, Fylor?”

Fylor: he bowed out of respect even though she was still staring out the window…
“The Evanses and Prince Philip are in the west waiting room. I had them served tea and sweets. I think Prince Philip might be tired though.”

Nataria: her smile widened: it had been many years but she could still recall what an overly tired toddler could be like…
“Why do you say that?”

Fylor: “Mainly the crying and general crankiness. I have instructed the servants to discreetly remove anything breakable from the room.”

Nataria: she allowed herself a silent chuckle…
“It has been too long since there have been small children here. It’s time that changed.”
She noted to herself that her children were nearing the Chamber of Houses: once there, they would take a tour, be introduced to all of the sitting Heads of Houses, which she was certain they wouldn’t remember all 110 of them, and then head to the palace, their home…
“What are they like Fylor, these Evanses?”

Fylor: he pondered it for a moment: he’d gotten only a few brief moments with them…
“Tired and perhaps a bit overwhelmed but…”

Nataria: “Yes?”

Fylor: “But they’re holding their own, and there is no doubt of the strong bond they have with the baby Prince Philip.”

Nataria: she nodded and dismissed her longtime faithful servant: she knew that she owed a great deal to the Evanses: they not only took in her children to raise as their own, but had extended it to Tess and Michael as well, and then to her other son Zan, and his Ava, and little Zanya: she’d failed the second set of hybrids horribly with those flawed instructions issued so long ago: and it was the Evanses once again that had picked up the pieces and helped them as best they could: they’d rearranged their lives for them, and by extension for Antar, and she owed them so much: but at the same time they had usurped her place as parent: Diane Evans was their mother and grandmother: she’d been the one to kiss away their sorrows and clap with glee at their accomplishments, and cry over their leaving home and starting their own lives: Nataria had no idea if she would have a place in her children’s hearts or their lives.

~

Diane: she had her hands full with little Philip: he was overly tired and didn’t want to be held, but was too cranky to let loose, especially not in this room: it was a palace for Christ’s sake: her hand slipped and little Philip was off…
“Philip, no-no, sweetheart. No, no, you can’t have that. That…oh, Lord, no. Philip, I’m sure that’s breakable. Sweetheart!”
Someone, she assumed a servant, came just in time and grabbed the statue before it fell: she finally got her hands back on her grandchild, who was still refusing to cooperate and was fussy and squirming to get down, and crying when he couldn’t.

Trudy: she pretended not to notice her great-grandnephew’s temper tantrum while she studiously studied the paintings on the walls and was thankful that that wasn’t her child: she raised an eyebrow as her nephew joined her…
“Chicken.”

Philip: “Yep.”
He made the mistake of glancing behind him and accidentally caught his wife’s eye: he mumbled…
“Crap.”

Trudy: she bit her lip…
“Go on Grandpa, or Grandma over there is going to clobber you later on for bailing on her.”

~

Setting: Chamber of Houses, same time

Maria: she felt so out of place: it was all starting to hit her as she’d walked and greeted people: “who are you?” they’d ask: it was a good question, who was she: she was the bondmate to Lord Michael, head of Byral House: she was the Queen of Antar’s Lady in Waiting: but she had no official house, the closest was through Kyle and Tess to the Royal House, which made her at best a very, very minor royal through a couple of marriages: she certainly wasn’t royal enough to be here, being greeted as a returning hero: she glanced over at Alex: he’d made a bit of a name for himself as a valued ally to Max with his gadgets and ability to blend Earth and Antarian technology to make things work: he was at least somewhat known for himself and not just as the human bondmate and fiancé to Princess Isabel: but what was she?

Michael: his years of stonewalling were serving him well as he was able to hide his astonishment at the incredibly ornate and awe inspiring building that was the Chamber of Houses: he outwardly viewed it with disinterest while he silently noted every detail, from the gold moldings along the ceiling to the detailed carvings of various emblems that were incorporated in the numerous posts that supported the high ceiling: he recognized some of them, they were a mixture of Ruan talismans and secular emblems of offices and authority: his eyes traveled up the posts to the ceiling: it was at least thirty feet high with an even higher domed center made of glass, or was it crystal he wondered as the afternoon sun created hundreds of prisms that reflected all the colors of the rainbow: he clamped his jaw shut so it wouldn’t drop open in stunned awe.

Hedor: he looked up and smiled: it was beautiful when the sun hit it just so…
“It was made of the finest crystal from the northern island of Trefian, over a thousand years ago. It was coated with a clear protectorant that has kept it safe from the elements for the last millennium, and was made by the finest craftsmen that ever lived. None have been able to match it since.”
He looked at the king and his queen consort and bowed…
“Welcome to the High Chamber of Houses of Antar, Your Majesties. I am Second Counsel Hedor of the Ramar House.”

Max: he nodded his head in acknowledgement…
“Thank you Second Counsel Hedor. The Chamber is truly magnificent.”

Hedor: he once more smiled…
“Yes, it is. This room is the main gathering room for official public functions. It was built to impress the masses and visiting dignitaries.”

Liz: she looked up once more at the crystal dome…
“I think it achieved its goal.”

Hedor: “I believe most would agree.”
He motioned towards a huge door behind him…
“If you would follow me, I would like to show you to the official meeting arena.”

Michael: images of gladiators battling to their deaths entered his head…
“Arena?”

Hedor: “Yes, it is where all the heads of Houses actually meet to determine policy and law, the meeting arena.”
He opened the massive door and stepped aside for the others to enter.

Max: he couldn’t keep the stunned look off of his face as he walked into the room and in unison, 108 people in the galley stood and bowed in his direction: the room was completely full: all the heads of Houses were present and standing in front of their seats.

Isabel: she knew this place though she’d never been here before: this is where she belonged, she could feel it: the room itself wasn’t all that big but it was tall, almost as if the walls went on until they touched the heavens: the room was done in a sort of dark green with gold trim: the galleys were in dark wood paneling with ten seats per section: she quickly counted eleven sections, and then one section which held only one chair, the royal section: this was where the head of the Royal House sat, where she once sat: she shook her head trying to dispel the thought: why would she have ever sat in that chair, she wasn’t the head of the house, her brother was, he had always been, and before him, her father: but the feeling was so strong she could almost picture it.

Hedor: “Your Majesty. May I present the sitting Chamber of Houses?”

Max: he had to swallow: these were the ones that he would need to form partnerships with and do battle against: they were both his enemies and his allies: he thought of the few words he’d rehearsed with Lord Jemmin, his father, and Trevan last night: he gave them a slight nod in greeting…
“I am indeed truly honored to be amongst you. I look forward to working with all of you to build a better future for all of Antar.”

Hedor: he smiled at their returned king: he’d served with King Tanier for many years and then briefly with King Zan, and had held on as best he could during the years of Kivar’s rule: he was glad to see this new young King Zan return: it felt good to bring in some new blood and mix things up a bit: he had a feeling it was going to be an interesting rule…
“We look forward to it as well.”
He glanced at Lord Michael and then turned to the section with the empty seat that was next to the royal section that was also empty…
“That is the seat for Byral House, second highest House on Antar, and at the right hand side of the seat for the Royal House. While your brother Lord Ranjorn has served well in your stead, we look forward to your return to the Chamber, Lord Michael.”

Michael: gulp: it was just now dawning on him that he was the head of a House and that he was expected to be a…a politician: {oh shit!}

Maria: she could feel how daunted Michael was at the prospect of what he was facing, his future, not as some sort of general on a battlefield but of a different kind: he was to fight his battles not with swords or arms, but with words and example: Mr. ‘Stonewall’ Guerin was now expected to be able to debate and argue in a civilized manner: she quietly slipped her hand in his and gave him a smile that told him he could do anything.

Michael: he looked at his bondmate and knew that she was telling him that she believed in him: if she believed then maybe it was true: what choice did he really have…
“Thanks…um, thank you. I look forward to it.”
{NOT!}

Hedor: “Good. The Chamber will convene the day after tomorrow. It would be good to have a full Chamber once again, with a proper representative from the Royal House. Has such a selection been made?”
He knew that he was a bit out of line in asking, but if they could convene a full Chamber, it would go a long way in showing that the government was finally back on track: he saw some confusion on several faces, though King Zan didn’t seem overly surprised…
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I… I did not mean to rush such decisions.”

Max: “You didn’t Lord Hedor. I have already made my decision. It was quite easy actually. It is the same as it was before.”
He was very glad that Lord Jemmin had counseled him last night as to what to expect, and explained that the actual king could not sit in the Chamber of Houses due to the appearance of conflict of interest: though whomever did would obviously be doing the King’s bidding and would have to be trustworthy and of the Royal family and House: he smirked slightly as he turned to his sister…
“As Princess Vilandra sat for King Zan from before, I hereby appoint Princess Isabel to sit for me and represent the Royal House.”
Damn, he loved surprising his sister like that.

Isabel: {That’s it! Vilandra sat in the Chamber before. That’s why this room felt so familiar. Why it felt so…right!}: she nodded to her brother, something she would have never done back on Earth, but they weren’t on Earth anymore…
“Thank you…Your Majesty.”
Even as she spoke the words, she gave her brother a look that told him that while she was honored and deeply touched, he had better not let this go to his head: he was still her little brother and she’d clobber him if he pissed her off:

Max: he smirked back {message received, big sister}

~

Setting: Antarra Palace, same time

Little Philip: he squirmed to get down: Grandma was trying to hold him but he didn’t want to be held: he wanted down: he wanted his blue blankie and his paw-bear and he wanted…
“Dada, Dada, Dada!”

Diane: this had been going on for almost an hour and he just wasn’t letting up…
“Honey, Daddy will be here soon. Honey, come on, let’s lay down for a bit.”
Little Philip just whined and fussed….
“PLEASE?”

Nataria: she had planned on waiting until she met her children first, but they were currently in the Chamber and would probably be there for a bit: curiosity got the best of her so she crept down the staircase to the west waiting room where her grandson and the Evanses were, just for a quick peek: she could hear a little one crying and fussing long before she reached the room: she carefully opened the door a crack to see what was happening: she bit her lip to keep silent: even cranky and fussy her grandson was just precious.

Trudy: she’d dearly love a gin and tonic about now: it was incredible that one so little could carry on so much: they all had tried everything they could think of, letting him down, holding him, laying down with him, walking him around, showing him various paintings, window views, flowers, and pretty lights: na-da, he wanted nothing to do with any of it: she couldn’t wait for Mommy and Daddy to get here, and she had no doubt that Philip and Diane were thinking the same thing: she was currently staring out the window at the serene garden just outside: it was such a contrast to the racket happening inside: she suddenly felt something, or more precisely someone, close by, that they were being watched: she turned and casually scanned around the room: it didn’t take long for her to spot the ajar door that was almost hidden amongst the rich paneling: they were being watched and she had an idea by whom: she walked over to the daybed where Diane was valiantly trying to get Philip to lay again with little success…
“Diane, dear, perhaps someone new should try. I bet she’d love to.”

Diane: she looked at Aunt Trudy as if she’d grown a second head…
“Aunt Trudy are you sure that you want to…”

Trudy: “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure that I don’t want to but I think I know someone who does.”
She purposefully turned and looked at the slightly open door…
“Please come in. We’d all love to meet you.”

Nataria: her cheeks were crimson: it had been many a year since she had been caught eavesdropping, not since she was a young girl: it was hard to be dignified when you were just caught acting so childish, but she tried anyway: with her head held high and cheeks scarlet, she walked into the room…
“Please forgive me. I did not mean to eavesdrop. I just…”
Her gaze shifted to the toddler still demanding his ‘Dada’…
“It’s been so long. I am Que…I am Nataria. Welcome.”

Philip: he had suspected as much: he put his hand on his wife’s shoulder in support: he knew that Diane had some trepidation about meeting their children’s biological mother: though Nataria had not exactly given birth to Max, Isabel, and Zan, her DNA was in the mix somewhere: he also knew that no matter what, Diane would always be their Mom: he briefly wondered if he would feel so confident on the matter if it were their biological father standing there: he brushed the thought aside and extended his hand to her and smiled…
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I am Philip Evans.”
He noted that the queen eyed his hand with some surprise but eventually took it and gave it a good shake…
“And this is my wife Diane Evans.”
He waited a moment as Diane and Nataria shook hands, he didn’t miss the slight unease in both women: he then turned to his aunt…
“And this is my father’s sister, Trudy Evans.”

Trudy: she smiled warmly at the woman…
“I’m very glad that you came down to meet us. And perhaps you could help us out a bit with little Philip here.”
She glanced over at the fussy child that had finally, and thankfully, stopped his all out crying and was now onto the hiccup stage, staring up at Nataria with big eyes while clinging to Diane…
“I’m afraid the day has simply been too much for him.”

Nataria: she sniffled a little trying not to cry: she sat down on the edge of the daybed and let her eyes wander over her grandson: he didn’t have too much hair but what he did have was dark brown and curled slightly at the ends: his ears were adorable how they stuck out, and he had the most beautiful light brown eyes that were ringed by long lashes: he looked a great deal like that young boy they’d taken aboard a ship all those years ago, the one they’d selected and she’d approved to be the human DNA donor for her son: he was her grandson and he was precious: she delicately ran a finger across his tear-stained cheek…
“It’s okay, little one. Your mother and father will be here shortly.”
Try as she might, she was no more successful in getting the toddler to take a nap than the others, but at least she had gotten him to quiet down: now all he did was stare at her: she got the feeling he was trying to see how she measured up, and she wondered if she did.

Philip: he chuckled as he watched his grandson: he’d seen that look on a couple of faces before…
“Diane, remind you of anyone?”
He nodded to their grandson that still clung to her.

Diane: she kissed the top of his head…
“Zanya does that staring thing when she meets someone.”

Trudy: she knew that look well…
“Yes, and I believe that I was on the receiving end of a stare like that from his father as well. Max could stare you into the ground when he was little.”

Diane: she smiled at the memory…
“I remember that. He’d just sit and stare as he tried to make up his mind about someone. Philip, remember your father had to bribe him with candy to get him to loosen up and talk when they first met?”

Nataria: she looked back at those big intense eyes staring at her and smiled: she stood and walked over to a panel on the wall and waved her glowing hand over it: almost instantly Fylor came: she whispered in his ear, he nodded and then departed: she walked back over and sat on the daybed…
“Perhaps a little something to fill his tummy might make him sleepy.”
She looked up when Fylor returned with a small tray: she selected a fruit-filled pastry and handed it to the little one: he studied the sweet for a moment before deciding to take it and try it out…
“It’s filled with wild junrie berries. They’re known for their relaxing properties. Young children are often given junrie juice before naptime and many will take a junrie tea before bed. It’s mild and harmless with a sweet taste to it.”
She couldn’t help but smile as red berry juice got all over his mouth as he happily ate his sweet treat…
“I think he likes it.”

Diane: “Yes, I do believe he does.”

Nataria: she looked up as the door opened and in walked her children: she was certain her heart stopped: this wasn’t how it was planned: they were supposed to be in the throne room where everything was set, the big reunion where she was to officially welcome them home to Antar and ceremoniously hand over Antarra Palace to them, followed by a welcoming celebration at the palace this evening: officially this was all wrong but why did it feel so right: her breath caught in her throat and her hand flew to her mouth as she gazed at her children: they were beautiful.

Diane: she stood with little Philip in her arms: she saw the emotional looks on her children’s faces, especially Isabel: part of her felt heartbroken and jealous, but the other understood: she was a mother too…
“Max, Isabel…”

Little Philip: there he was: arms stretched and once again anxious to get down…
“DA-DA, DA-DA!”

Max: he hadn’t been prepared for seeing his mother yet: it was supposed to happen later on: the day had been one emotional high after another and he was relying on everything going according to plan to help keep his own emotions in control and not let his ‘royal’ demeanor slip: he was king and was supposed to be in control, but standing there was his mother: she looked so…so vulnerable: he knew he should say something but it was difficult to get his jaw working: his attention shifted to his mom as she rose and started to speak but was quickly interrupted by a demanding “da-da, da-da”: he smiled with relief at his son: he needed something to focus on for a moment so he could get his feelings under control: his arms reached out as he walked over to his mom and son…
“Hey Squirt. Did you have a good day?”
He hugged his son tight to him and kissed his forehead: he heard Isabel gasp and then sob and glanced up to see her and their mother in a tearful embrace: he glanced around and saw that his parents and Aunt Trudy had retreated to the far side of the room near the windows and were doing their best to study the garden outside, trying to give them privacy: he felt Liz place her hand on his arm and he looked at her warm smile: he always hated it when his mom cried and now he had a new mother, whom he noticed had opened the flood gates.

Liz: they were all tired, it had been an incredibly long day and still wasn’t close to being done yet: she felt not only her shock, but her husband’s as well, when they walked into the room: she knew that they were all feeling a bit strung out emotionally and now they were looking at another huge emotional reunion and greeting: she was glad that Squirt had offered Max the brief reprieve so he could collect himself…
“You’re doing fine.”
She told him softly as he handed over their son, whom she saw was yawning and on the verge of falling asleep.

Isabel: her makeup was a mess: her face was hot and tear-streaked and she didn’t care as she sobbed…
“Mother.”
They fell into each other’s arms.

Nataria: flesh and bone, real, no longer just on a dream plane or communication link, but real flesh and bone: her daughter Vilandra: no, not Vilandra, but Isabel: Isabel, it was an unusual name, exotic sounding and beautiful, just like her daughter…
“My child. My daughter.”

Max: he walked over and just stood there for a moment while mother and daughter hugged: he hesitated, as he wasn’t entirely sure what to do…
“Mother.”
He was surprised to hear his voice squeak with emotion like that.

Nataria: she looked up at her son and new tears sprung up: she reached out her arm to take him into her embrace…
“My son. Welcome home.”

The Fates love a good family reunion.

Part 9

Setting: Byral House, later that evening

Maria: she had stoically stood by as Queen Nataria officially handed over Antarra Palace to Max and Liz: she had celebrated and cheered them on as food and drink flowed freely at the private homecoming celebration that followed: she was happy for her friends: it was good to finally be closing the door on one chapter of their lives and opening a new one, in a new home: she had a new home as well, sort of: she and Michael walked the two hundred or so yards from the front of Antarra Palace to the official residence of Byral House, their new home, or at least Michael’s: Byral House shared a backyard garden with Antarra Palace that overlooked the Southern Ocean, and in effect created a compound surrounded by the two highest Houses of Antar: she recalled Tobias once mentioning that while Michael might not have been royal, he had been raised in the royal court, she hadn’t realized how literal that statement had been: a knot formed in her stomach as the front doors to Byral House suddenly swung open: Byral House was almost as large as Antarra Palace and was just as beautiful and grand: a very hoity-toity looking guy, a doorman she assumed, bowed as they entered the grand foyer: her eyes immediately were drawn to the maroon colored tapestry covering the wall to her left, it went all the way to the ceiling almost thirty feet above her: with gold and silver threads, it depicted battles being fought and won and tributes being paid: without words it told the history of a great and grand House, Byral House: she forced her gaze forward to the assembled staff and the current Lady of Byral, Lady Riana, Lord Ranjorn’s wife.

Riana: she bowed slightly to her long absent brother-in-law and smiled…
“Lord Michael. I am Lady Riana. Welcome home.”

Michael: he was stunned at the scale of the house: he had no idea what to do with it all…
“Um, thanks.”

Riana: she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling: she had been barely more than a girl when Lord Rath had been slain but she could still recall that he was a man of few words…
“You are most welcome. If you would allow me, I will show you to your rooms. I had the Master’s and Mistress’s suites redecorated temporarily until you can settle into something more to your taste.”
She told them as they ascended the grand staircase.

Maria: she snorted to herself {I can just see the cinderblocks now.}

~

Setting: Antarra Palace, same time

Isabel: she stood at the window and watched the two moons do their nighttime dance in the sky: two moons: two alien moons, one close that dominated the sky, and one just barely more than a vague shadow in the night: so alien: she felt gentle arms wrap around her waist and warm breath on her neck: she closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar scent: it calmed and soothed and yet excited her as well…
“This all seems so surreal.”

Alex: he gently kissed her neck…
“I’d say that’s an understatement.”
He kissed her neck again…
“You’ve been awfully quiet today. Penny for your thoughts.”

Isabel: she relished his warmth that surrounded her…
“I think you might need several hundred dollars worth of pennies.”

Alex: he pulled back a little until she turned around in his arms and looked at him…
“Talk to me, Isabel.”

Isabel: she glanced around the room: it was her old room, Vilandra’s room: like everything else it seemed familiar yet it wasn’t: she broke from Alex’s embrace and began to pace around the room…
“Everything is so familiar. It’s like a song that you can’t remember the words to yet you know the song. This is home. I can feel it, but…”
She stopped at the window once more and looked at the two moons…
“But it’s so alien.”

Alex: he rested his hands on her shoulders and followed her gaze up to the night sky…
“It’s because it is alien. You’re not Vilandra. You’re Isabel Evans, Antarian Royal Princess and my fiancée. Isabel…”
His arms slipped around her shoulders and he pulled her close as they resumed watching the heavens…
“It’s okay. Together we’ll make it a home, not just a feeling, but a real home. Together, we’ll make it right.”

Isabel: she slipped her arms around his and leaned into him…
“How did I ever get so lucky to have you?”

Alex: he smiled as he whispered into her ear…
“You opened your eyes.”

~

Setting Another part of Antarra Palace, same time

Liz: she lay in bed staring at the ceiling and wondering if she’d ever seen anything so gaudy: she heard snoring and cast a glance at her sleeping husband: she envied him: she was so tired yet sleep eluded her: there was so much that she wanted to do, help those kids they’d met this morning, learn more about Ruan, meet all of the household staff, and find out what a queen was really supposed to do: she glanced around the blue and gold king’s bedroom suite {and redecorate in anything but blue!}: she heard her husband snort in his sleep: she pulled the covers up over her shoulder and snuggled down in an attempt to get some sleep: an hour later she was still staring at the ceiling and listening to her husband’s soft snores: this just wasn’t working: she regarded her husband for a moment and slipped her hand closer to him: she smiled knowingly as her hand found what it was seeking.

Max: he grinned sleepily and yawned as he began to wake…
“Have I mentioned that I rather enjoy it when you have insomnia?”

Liz: her hand gave a good tug…
“I’m restless. I need something to tire me out so I can sleep. I thought a little exercise would be good. I was thinking of some calisthenics. Got a better idea?”

Max: he opened his eyes and gave her a lopsided grin as he pulled her on top of him…
“Maybe. Exercise is more fun when done with a partner.”

Liz: she couldn’t help but wiggle a little and grinned at his throaty moan…
“What’d you have in mind?”

Max: he pulled her down to him and kissed her hard: the need for air finally broke them apart and he gazed into her eyes…
“I have a couple of ideas.”

Liz: “Only a couple?”

Max: “For now.”
He ran his hand along her cheek: he smiled as she kissed his fingers when they ran along her inviting lips…
“And tomorrow, you can redecorate in any color you want.”
He smiled at her…
“But for now, let’s see how I can tire you out.”

~

Setting Antarra Palace, same time

Tess: she could hear as he sucked air in and out and then sighed again: she rolled over in bed and looked at her wide-awake husband…
“Okay, spill. What is it?”

Kyle: he frowned…
“This.”

Tess: “Need a little more detail.”

Kyle: he gestured around the room…
“This. All of this.”

Tess: “O-kay.”

Kyle: he sighed in frustration…
“It’s…Max’s. All of this belongs to Max Evans. I’m now living under his roof.”
He looked back up at the ceiling: he had never really cared for blue and it was quickly becoming his least favorite color…
“This sucks.”

Tess: she moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her…
“It’s only temporary.”

Kyle: “Yeah. I know. Then we’re off to Vintar.”

Tess: her fingers ran along his chest…
“We could find somewhere else to live. Maybe an apartment close by?”

Kyle: he sighed again: as much as it grated on him to be under Max Evans’ roof, he knew that this was where he needed to be…
“No. I have too much to do. I want to check out the security and the people. Get a feel for things. And I only have a month to do it before we split to visit Vintar. Dad always said that in police work you needed to go with your gut. And the only way to do that is to be here 24/7 until I feel comfortable otherwise.”

Tess: she smiled at him with pride…
“Look at you. Who would have thought the high school jock would be worrying over royal security.”

Kyle: he snorted…
“You forgot the ‘on another planet’ part to that.”
He snorted again…
“Maybe when things settle down a little we can look for a place of our own.”
He glanced around the room again…
“But no blue.”

Tess: she bit her lip but couldn’t stop the giggle…
“Any color you want. We can even have Michael help us with the color tiles.”

Kyle: he laughed at the memory of him and Michael painting Dad and Amy’s new place and somehow winding up with Michael having a hell of a time getting the floor tiles back to the right color…
“Yeah, and maybe a little painting too.”
They both laughed.

Tess: “You know, technically, this isn’t Max’s house.”
Kyle looked at her questioningly…
“Isabel and I were studying Antarian customs, and the house is the domain of the lady, so technically…”

Kyle: he grinned as he finished the sentence…
“It’s Liz’s.”
His smile broadened as he laid back in bed with his wife by his side…
“Yeah. I can deal with that.”

~

Setting: Byral House, the next morning

Riana: she sat at the small table in the garden sipping her tea and picking over her morning meal while waiting for the new occupants to arrive for breakfast: she smiled warmly as a slightly lost looking young lady wandered outside to the garden…
“Good morning, Lady Maria. Did you sleep well?”

Maria: she took the offered seat at the table and gave her host a tentative smile as her tea was poured…
“Thank you. Yes, I did.”
She lied: how could anyone sleep the first night on an alien planet in a palace that was technically theirs, or was it: she wasn’t sure…
“So, can I ask you something?”

Riana: she smiled graciously at the young girl: she had a granddaughter not too much younger than the girl sitting in front of her…
“Of course. You can ask me anything. Please…”

Maria: “What exactly does a lady of the house do?”

Riana: she took an even controlled breath in and out: she’d been expecting the question, and while the answer was technically quite simple, the situation was somewhat muddled…
“The lady of the house basically runs the household, and in order to run the household, she must also control the finances.”

Maria: her jaw almost dropped…
“Control the finances? Wait, you mean that it’s the lady that holds the purse strings?”

Riana: “Well, by custom, yes. But that’s not always so. No two marriages are the same, which brings me to a slight problem.”

Maria: her stomach knotted: she had a feeling of what was coming…
“We’re not married.”

Riana: “Yes. While you are acknowledged as the bride-to-be and bondmate to Lord Michael, and it is expected that you would be staying here to be trained on how to run a household and such, but until the actual marriage takes place you would not be considered the lady of the house.”

Maria: she bit her lip to keep it from quivering…
“So who is the lady of Byral House?”

Riana: “By tradition, it would fall to the next highest ranking female of the house, which would be me. And it would also be considered my responsibility to teach you.”

Maria: her shoulders slumped as she mumbled in English…
“I’m still a nobody.”

Riana: “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that?”

Maria: she waved her hand dismissively…
“Nothing. So are you okay with that? Teaching me and everything?”

Riana: “I’m delighted to. We never had a daughter, only two sons, so I never had the chance really. Oh, I do have two daughter-in-laws to go with those sons, but they were already well instructed, and…well, it’s different when you’re the mother-in-law.”

Maria: it dawned on her that on Earth, since Michael had been considered an orphan, she’d never had to deal with any of his relatives, no in-laws to worry about: the closest were the Evans, but that was different: it made her appreciate how Michael had dealt with her mother, and then Jim and her combined family: now it was her turn…
“Yeah, I suppose so. Um, what about when Michael and I do marry? Won’t it be difficult for you to…I guess step down?”

Riana: she’d been so young when she and Ranjorn married: as the second son, Ranjorn had never expected to inherit the title of Head of the House, and she’d never expected to be the Lady of the House either: after Kivar’s betrayal, suddenly her and Ranjorn’s world was turned upside down and she had no choice but to grab the reigns and hold on tight: it’d been so difficult with Kivar doing everything in his power to undermine Byral House, including calling into question numerous financial deals she’d made over the years: she’d learned to be meticulous in her record keeping, both sets of books, one that she gladly showed to Kivar and that could stand up to the most intense scrutiny, and one that only she and a select few knew about: it was those books that had helped finance part of the war against Kivar: she looked past the wall of hedges that surrounded the garden patio, past the vast manicured grasses and flower beds to the back of Antarra Palace…
“No, I never intended to be the Lady of Byral House, only the lady of my own. And while this is the main estate of Byral House, Ranjorn and I spent very little time here. It was too difficult living next door to the enemy. And I’m sincerely glad that you will not have to. No, when it is time, I will be very happy to return to Ranjorn’s and mine main home in Trisleum, near the shores of Lake Pillarm. It is the home Ranjorn and I built as newlyweds and where we raised our family.”

Maria: she nodded in understanding but that lead to another little issue she had…
“What if…um, what if Michael and I had children before we got married? I know on Earth, as late as in my mother’s time, they would have been shunned. But times have changed and that is no longer the case, well, at least where I grew up. I’m sure in other parts it still would be a major problem. How does that work here?”

Riana: she was very practiced at keeping her composure but she couldn’t help looking the girl up and down, searching for any evidence of pregnancy: she didn’t think she saw any but then she didn’t know her that well and wasn’t certain if humans showed pregnancy the same way…
“Well, of course it would be better for you to marry first, but things don’t always happen in the order that they should. Without a doubt, the child would be accepted by both families. It would be the parents that would be, not shunned exactly, but scrutinized and gossiped about why they didn’t marry. It would be seen as a sign of immaturity and recklessness. How can they make a lifelong commitment to a child, but not one to each other? That sort of thing.
I must say that Ranjorn would be most displeased with his brother if he failed to act appropriately in such a situation. It would not look good for the Head of Byral House to be seen as immature and reckless. Not good at all.”
She took a breath before asking delicately…
“Does such a situation exist?”

Maria: she breathed a sigh of relief: it felt better knowing that any child born out of wedlock wouldn’t be shunned, and that Michael’s family would expect him to do the right thing: somehow it reassured her to know that she’d have support from within Byral House: but at the same time, the last thing she wanted was for her and Michael to have to get married: she shook her head…
“No, it doesn’t, at least not yet. But…um, you might find this sort of funny. You see, Max’s Aunt Trudy…”

Riana: she tried placing whom she was referring to…
“Max’s Aunt Trudy?”

Maria: “The aunt of King Zan’s adoptive father, Philip Evans.”
She amended and waited until Riana nodded in understanding before continuing…
“She’s sort of…she’s clairvoyant. She’s pretty good at it too.”
She noticed Riana raise an eyebrow in response…
“Anyway, she said that she saw mine and Michael’s two children standing at our wedding. She saw it when she gave each of us separate readings. Somehow, I don’t think she’s wrong.”

Riana: she’d heard very little about this Aunt Trudy, only that she was highly regarded by the king and his family, and something about a pet of some sort: obviously this aunt must be some form of priestess…
“Well, I guess the only thing we can do is try our best not to let that happen, but if it does, we’ll deal with it at that time. Now first, I think we should finish our breakfast and then I’ll give you a tour of the house and introduce you to the staff. It will be important for you to remember that while technically you are not the lady of the house, you will be at some point, so don’t let anyone think otherwise. Also, I’ve made arrangements at the end of the week for you to meet with various accountants and administrators. Byral House is only one of several properties that the family owns. We have a lot of work to do to get you up to speed on everything. But don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll be holding your own in no time.”

The Fates never underestimate the power of a lady.