I. Propositions of Little Men
Tautanooie, sometimes called "tat" or "oooie" by people who knew him well, stood silently in the night
at the end of the dock and watched as Da'ang worked his way through the second keg of ale. The excess
of dark red liquid that he couldn't fit down his throat spilling onto the bare chest of the man, Da'ang looked
some hill barbarian all draped in furs as he was.
Tat looked back and forth, expecting at any moment a guard or the owner of the ale to show up and
begin complaining, or arguing or shooting or worse. It was in Tat's humble opinion, that kind of night. Hot
and humid on the water, trouble and it's twin cousin problems just waiting for something to do.
The little rickety dock next to the little rickety town was the only gate-point for at least a day's ride in
either direction, or if you had to walk it would be three days (and they appeared by all rights to be on foot).
Oddly enough of the two, Da'ang would have been the more upset of the two at the prospect of more
walking. Yet as he finished the second keg and tossed it into the fast moving river, Tat could already see
him eyeing up the third.
In the depth of his own gut, Tat could feel the rumblings of a need of strong drink himself, but fought
back the urge on the concept that at least one of them should be sober when the ferry arrived. This line of
thinking was confirmed as the sturdy legs of the other man buckled, and he dropped the third keg of ale on
himself as he fell. He lay there moaning quietly for a few moments.
"One of us should be sober," Tat muttered, then went to collect his partner.
..................... ............................
On the small inland sea, the intercity-ferry jostled slightly then smoothed out, as the inertial dampers
kicked in. The captain from his position on the foredeck determined that the limit of visual determination
had been reached and sounded the warning klaxon before turning off the holographic projectors.
The dark barge shifted in hue to a tan flatbed, the heaping piles of oddly shaped boxes becoming the
neat and orderly stacks of goods on the way into the city.
Da'ang vomited over the side again, resting on the railing, which had changed from dirty vine to clean
rope.
"I must remind you, that this type of behavior when the completion of a trip is near is quite a tedious
affair, all the wretching and whoring and other bits of insanity really are starting to wear thin," this from Tat
who sat patiently dressed in a thick blue peasant robe, watching the spectacle from a bench.
"Nuttin wrong with a little living it up when you're outcountry, makes you appreciate the city all the
more," the wretching man smiled back at Tat, then leaned over the side once more.
Tat listened patiently for the next thirty minutes, as the ferry picked up speed, the breeze that the
deflectors allowed through blowing through the few strands left on his pate. He watched the coming
horizon with expectation, always relieved to see the city in the distance and know that he was going home.
The City. It started as little dots, then grew quickly until the tall white spires and other structures stood
out like grand pillars of welcome. For two hundred years it had gotten no other name, in that when one
referred to "the city", there was only the one on the whole planet.
The entire rest of the planet was on average one step to the left of outright barbarism, and technology
in large part generally ended with leeches. Some had "natives" had tapped into a magic of sorts, which
worked in some areas, and confounded even the most learned technologists of the city. But it can be said
of the outlands with a sense of security, when visiting those parties: don't ask just eat it.
The world had been kept that way, the Five Kings staunchly concentrating all the technology into the
one area, keeping the rest sterile by comparison. Twenty million people lived and worked in the city, the
seat of all power, and the other ninety million people on the planet lived in ignorance.
The city was clean, all the water and power one could hope for, a network of intelligent machines and
pleasures for the mind as well as the body.
Tat smoothed out his robe and collected his partner, leading Da'ang inside the ship. From inside the
boat, he vided the office, and checked messages, ordered up a change of clothes from the boat's wardrobe
and then a ride to meet them at the dock, all charged to their ferry account.
Through the thin walls of the changing cube, Da'ang yelled questions that Tat felt better kept quiet.
"Any rings?" Da'ang cut through the quiet murmur of the other ferry patrons, all quietly struggling
back into their own city clothes after a trip outcountry.
"I'd prefer if we held off until we were under more private conditions," Tat hoarsely whispered back,
smoothing out the crease in his powder blue pants twice with his hand before sliding into them. The bright
yellow tunic and the powder blue hipjacket followed, both handled with care as he fended off more
questions.
"Any calls from the Duke?" Da'ang yelled. Tat could hear a couple of murmurs stop and knew they
were listening at the mention of title.
"Carduke? Called and said street J," Tat called back, hoping that the nonsensical answer would stop
suspicion.
"Wha? What are you talking about?"
Tat slipped out of his cube and made his way updeck, leaving Da'ang shouting at the wind. He had
hopes that people would believe that he was talking to himself and that the entire conversation would be
chalked up to crossed lines.
It wasn't until the ferry docked that Da'ang caught up with Tat, the heavy man could tell his partner
wasn't happy. As they disembarked, Tat shook his head at the conflagration of outerwear his partner had
chosen, the charcoal grey slacks were hopelessly a season behind, but the bright red/green check jacket
over the purple droopy simply bespoke of insanity.
A three wheeled enclosed cart, the cheery white and blue of the elite stable, pulled to the curb, and the
pair boarded quietly amid the hustle and bustle of the ferry crowd.
"What was that load you pulled back there? Deserting me in the cubes?" Da'ang exploded when the
door was closed and they were firmly on their way.
"And let you speak of the Duke's business among strangers?" Tat decided to start his argument with
logic and reason this time.
"Hah? Let me remind you of who is the courier here and who is his assistant."
"Let me remind you of who actually does most of the work."
"Let me remind you of whose name is on the door."
"There aren't any names on our door," Tat looked confused for a second.
"Moot question, as it is, I have reason to believe that you are almost done with your training," Da'ang
leaned back into the seat and pretended to go to sleep.
"Training?"
The cart whizzed through uptown traffic, between the commercial shopping pyramids, skirting several
of the large parks in the midst of the city before turning onto the First Kings Concourse, home of the
business district.
The little white and blue cart rolled to a stop outside the Third Building and the pair got out, Tat taking a
moment to finish punching in the payment code. Da'ang stalked into the building without waiting, his hair
flapping in the light breeze.
Tat hurriedly made way after him.
They made way through the lobby, down into the main atrium and into the drinking salon, through the
salon out to the building service shops, into a maintenance area, though the loading area and out the back
of the building. Across the sunlit alleyway they walked, up the flight of rickety brown stairs and into the suite
of offices known as Da'ang Interventions.
"Ah, Home again," Da'ang mused as he palmed the lock.
Palatial by comparison to their accommodations of the past few weeks, the small office structure
fronted the alley and not the Second Kings Concourse, which it abutted. On the reverse side of DI a
seven-story relief mural of the "Second King" smiled down on the second concourse patrons.
"Shall I contact the Duke now, or should we make him wait a few hours in sweaty anticipation," Tat
asked, sliding into the personal and luxuriating at the feel of indoor plumbing.
"Let him wait, the little twit," yelled back Da'ang as he collapsed onto the collapsed couch.
Tat had always felt had they sold the structure (Da'ang actually owned the whole edifice - by
inheritance) and moved into the commercial district, they could make a fortune. But his less than astute
partner would hear none of it.
"Sell the family plot? Don't you realize the import of address like third point five First Kings Concourse?
Why the location alone makes this a house of the First Kings Inner Court!" was the argument that usually
greeted such a suggestion.
Tat usually countered with eight and nine digit figure bids that were vidded to them regularly.
"You would reduce the holdings of a lifetime to mere digits on a page, to mere money? Had not my
great grandfather sweated and toiled would I not have this, and you ask me to sell down my forefathers?"
Tat also had a ferverent belief that Da'ang was only waiting out for a higher bid.
The seven months since Tat had "joined" the firm had been the company's most prosperous. Not the
most difficult task, as in the previous five years of operation, Da'ang had shown a extremely minor profit
(.0000013% on revenues of eighty million). The relationship was strained at best, labored and nasty at it's
worst.
The two got to each other.
Tat emerged from the personal with a sense of satisfaction and looked at his partner, and considered
for the tenth time since morning on taking his talents elsewhere.
"Are you sure making the Duke wait is wise?"
"Ha! The Duke is a sawed off little grub, who deserves whatever this man...."
The door nearly rattled off it's hinges as the Royal Guard in Purple and Black burst into the room,
stopping Da'ang in mid-sentence.
"...whatever this man can do to serve his king and those in his court," Da'ang finished, as he slipped off
the couch and onto the floor.
A shorter soldier in a major's cape stepped in front of the not quite ceremonial pickets and raised his
stick across his chest.
"The Duke of Fifth order Greys," he started then paused as he took in his minor audience," requests
that you accompany me to a private meeting at his residence." The major sniffed once, then turned on his
heel and started back out.
"I think the Duke has waited long enough, let's get moving," Da'ang nearly spit the words from his
mouth, bouncing from the floor and falling into step neatly with the troops.
Tat shook his head and fell in behind.
The procession led out to a series of purple and black armored gravity galleys that filled the alleyway.
The captured pair boarded the command galley, and the line began to make it's way out of the narrow alley.
"Ooooh, comfy," Da'ang marveled at the seat cushions and bounced up and down playfully until he
caught the glare of the major, sitting in the elevated command chair with a look of disapproval on his face.
"Sit still, be quiet, look professional," Tat whispered without moving his lips and Da'ang went into
professional look number four: brooding, thoughtful countenance.
Through the streets, out of the clutter of skyscrapers and into the western half of city where the
imperial residences sat, the galleys moved through all traffic by right of way. The castles and smaller
mansions of the retainers dominated the area, which held the occasional tower, and a vast array of flora
and fauna had been imported to frame the palatial areas.
The galleys picked there way up narrow paths effortlessly, negotiating the tight curves with a ease that
showcased the maneuverability of the sizable craft. Into a courtyard of one of the mansions they arrived,
forming a diamond formation above the grass before settling neatly onto the ceramic posts which
represented a vast investment to kept the grass growing while having a full military company stationed in
one's backyard.
The pair were quickly escorted inside, and found themselves at an indoor gym, where bodies flung
themselves back and forth in fits of physical exertion. Da'ang stood fidgeting, Tat looking ever so slightly
nervous as the waited in amongst the din, surrounded by the soldiers.
From the far side of the room he approached, and Da'ang was by all rights stunned. Approaching amid
two assistants was the Duke of the Fifth order Greys, obviously the most unfit man in the room. He was
drawn, thin and pale, the hair on his head in sparse patches, all neatly arranged to give the effect of hair. He
looked for the most part a beaten man, gaunt and barely alive.
"Your lordship has to attend the Third Kings Royal garden show this afternoon, your escort is Lady of
the Second order Law and this evening is the First Prince's Private Ball, for which an escort assignment is
pending," the first assistant was reading from a floating computer screen, the Duke paying him no mind.
"Did you get it?" the Duke's voice boomed with such a volume, one wondered if his body could stand
the shock. His question directed at the pair who stood gawking like school children meeting a boyhood idol.
"Well...ah....that is...sir....your lordship...," Tat fumbled for a second, his mouth flopping.
"Of course your Dukeship sir, we got it, and would you really expect anything less from Da'ang
Interventions," the tongue of Da'ang started moving as he went to automatic, and used his own best
axiom: when in doubt, pretend your better than the other guy.
"You two. Come with me," the Duke boomed out and the pair followed the Duke and his assistants out
of the gym and into another room, a huge expanse of smooth stone and long pools of water, laid out
geometrically. With a wave of his frail hand, the assistants who trailed him turned and walked away,
stopping far enough away in the great room to be beyond earshot and yet close enough to be within
striking distance should the Duke need help.
The elder man stood quietly studying the water for a moment, and when Da'ang opened his mouth to
continue his spiel, Tat jabbed him in the leg and he remained silent.
"Let me see it," the Duke whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of the lapping water,
such that the two merely looked at him until the Duke motioned with his hand.
From within his powder blue jacket, Tat produced a single sheet of paper, hand written in a tight scrawl.
The Duke took it trembling, and scanned it slowly. As he read it, Tat could see the health returning to his
face as if by magic, and took a step back.
"And your Dukeness should take note that I got him to throw in some smaller livestock at no additional
cost to you," Da'ang leaned into the Duke's vision," cause I know how you military men are, out there, the
tension of the battle, hey, hey, hey, wink, nod."
The Duke gave him a pained look and then looked back at the paper.
"Very good, very good, excellent job. I should employ couriers more often if all of you are this
efficient," the Duke smiled at Da'ang, then at Tat, then laughed out loud and motioned them away.
As the Duke departed through the far entrance, Da'ang turned to Tat and looked smug. Tat looked less
than overjoyed.
"See, was I not correct in acquiring the small becks or was I not?"
"As always," Tat was exasperated.
"So what's the problem?" Da'ang stood, hands on his hips and preening for the non-existing audience.
"Are we to be paid?" Tat asked.
The approaching guards with pickets held at the ready pre-empted his request.
................... .......................
Tat began to wonder if armored gravity galleys came with anything at all inside. A vast contrast to the
command galley, the pair now stood waiting inside a battle galley, it's spartan mesh steel and unforgiving
angles inviting injury and a lack of happiness. Da'ang seemed upset at the lack of comfy seats.
The side door whooshed open after twenty minutes, and the short major boarded his cape flapping in
the breeze. The door slammed shut behind him and he stared silently at the pair for several minutes.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of the major's company?" Tat began cordially.
"Or better, when do we get paid for efforts?" Da'ang blurted, and both men looked at him with surprise.
The major took his eyes off the rowdy man, and paced the galley, stopping at the odd compartment
every so often and giving it an impromptu inspection. He came back to the pair who stood silently
watching, and faced them.
"I am the first major of the Duke of fifth order greys, and I would like to thank you again on behalf of
the Duke, his liege and his king."
"And I am the man awaiting my share," Da'ang countered as the man finished speaking.
The major looked over at Tat, who gave an exasperated look, and the officer looked back at Da'ang
and did the same. The major slipped his hand into a fold in his tunic and produced a flat card, half as thick
as a thumb with a black square suspended inside. Without fanfare he slapped the card into Da'ang's
upturned palm and began again, waiting for the next indignity.
"I am the first major of the Duke of fifth order greys, an I would like to thank you again on behalf of the
Duke, his liege and his king. His lordship is most happy with your work in latest acquisition and would like to
offer you another job in your line. Would you be interested?"
"Da'ang Interventions considers it's courier operations it's primary line, major. If the Duke is as
generous in his next offer as he was in the previous, we shall take it under consideration," Tat smiled at the
major, tugging on Da'ang shoulder continuously.
Da'ang paid him no mind and was peering closely at the payment transfer card, as though by eyesight
he could verify it's validity.
"Why ain't the Duke asking?, I mean he contacted us personally the last time, and what is wrong with
him? Is he gonna live long enough to pay us for next time?" The questions tumbled from the mouth of the
loud one into the room and lay on the floor for a moment until the major answered him.
"As you may have noticed, the Duke is not in the best of health. He fell ill shortly after you last saw him
and is only now recovering. You saw his actions inside, even now he has taken to his chamber for rest. As
his first major the duty falls to me to carry out his wishes."
"What's the program?" Tat asked.
"The details will be delivered to your offices in the morning if you accept."
"You ask us to accept a job without knowing anything at all about what is required of us," Tat began to
get wary.
"I can assure you that the assignment is within the bounds of the powers of the Duke, and will not ask
you to commit treason in the eyes of the king. So it is sworn."
"Still an assignment which we have not evaluated, our effectiveness is compromised," Tat hemmed for
more information, which he hoped he could pump.
"This new assignment pays four times what the previous assignment did, if you accept now."
Tat knew in an instant that they could not do it, it was beyond their means to consider, and that the
acts they would commit in the course of the assignment would condemn them to early and deep
unmarked graves.
Da'ang only heard the multiple four.
"Try not to vid them over before the midmorn gong, Major, I need my beauty rest," Da'ang answered
grinning.
End Preview.
Tautanooie, sometimes called "tat" or "oooie" by people who knew him well, stood silently in the night
at the end of the dock and watched as Da'ang worked his way through the second keg of ale. The excess
of dark red liquid that he couldn't fit down his throat spilling onto the bare chest of the man, Da'ang looked
some hill barbarian all draped in furs as he was.
Tat looked back and forth, expecting at any moment a guard or the owner of the ale to show up and
begin complaining, or arguing or shooting or worse. It was in Tat's humble opinion, that kind of night. Hot
and humid on the water, trouble and it's twin cousin problems just waiting for something to do.
The little rickety dock next to the little rickety town was the only gate-point for at least a day's ride in
either direction, or if you had to walk it would be three days (and they appeared by all rights to be on foot).
Oddly enough of the two, Da'ang would have been the more upset of the two at the prospect of more
walking. Yet as he finished the second keg and tossed it into the fast moving river, Tat could already see
him eyeing up the third.
In the depth of his own gut, Tat could feel the rumblings of a need of strong drink himself, but fought
back the urge on the concept that at least one of them should be sober when the ferry arrived. This line of
thinking was confirmed as the sturdy legs of the other man buckled, and he dropped the third keg of ale on
himself as he fell. He lay there moaning quietly for a few moments.
"One of us should be sober," Tat muttered, then went to collect his partner.
..................... ............................
On the small inland sea, the intercity-ferry jostled slightly then smoothed out, as the inertial dampers
kicked in. The captain from his position on the foredeck determined that the limit of visual determination
had been reached and sounded the warning klaxon before turning off the holographic projectors.
The dark barge shifted in hue to a tan flatbed, the heaping piles of oddly shaped boxes becoming the
neat and orderly stacks of goods on the way into the city.
Da'ang vomited over the side again, resting on the railing, which had changed from dirty vine to clean
rope.
"I must remind you, that this type of behavior when the completion of a trip is near is quite a tedious
affair, all the wretching and whoring and other bits of insanity really are starting to wear thin," this from Tat
who sat patiently dressed in a thick blue peasant robe, watching the spectacle from a bench.
"Nuttin wrong with a little living it up when you're outcountry, makes you appreciate the city all the
more," the wretching man smiled back at Tat, then leaned over the side once more.
Tat listened patiently for the next thirty minutes, as the ferry picked up speed, the breeze that the
deflectors allowed through blowing through the few strands left on his pate. He watched the coming
horizon with expectation, always relieved to see the city in the distance and know that he was going home.
The City. It started as little dots, then grew quickly until the tall white spires and other structures stood
out like grand pillars of welcome. For two hundred years it had gotten no other name, in that when one
referred to "the city", there was only the one on the whole planet.
The entire rest of the planet was on average one step to the left of outright barbarism, and technology
in large part generally ended with leeches. Some had "natives" had tapped into a magic of sorts, which
worked in some areas, and confounded even the most learned technologists of the city. But it can be said
of the outlands with a sense of security, when visiting those parties: don't ask just eat it.
The world had been kept that way, the Five Kings staunchly concentrating all the technology into the
one area, keeping the rest sterile by comparison. Twenty million people lived and worked in the city, the
seat of all power, and the other ninety million people on the planet lived in ignorance.
The city was clean, all the water and power one could hope for, a network of intelligent machines and
pleasures for the mind as well as the body.
Tat smoothed out his robe and collected his partner, leading Da'ang inside the ship. From inside the
boat, he vided the office, and checked messages, ordered up a change of clothes from the boat's wardrobe
and then a ride to meet them at the dock, all charged to their ferry account.
Through the thin walls of the changing cube, Da'ang yelled questions that Tat felt better kept quiet.
"Any rings?" Da'ang cut through the quiet murmur of the other ferry patrons, all quietly struggling
back into their own city clothes after a trip outcountry.
"I'd prefer if we held off until we were under more private conditions," Tat hoarsely whispered back,
smoothing out the crease in his powder blue pants twice with his hand before sliding into them. The bright
yellow tunic and the powder blue hipjacket followed, both handled with care as he fended off more
questions.
"Any calls from the Duke?" Da'ang yelled. Tat could hear a couple of murmurs stop and knew they
were listening at the mention of title.
"Carduke? Called and said street J," Tat called back, hoping that the nonsensical answer would stop
suspicion.
"Wha? What are you talking about?"
Tat slipped out of his cube and made his way updeck, leaving Da'ang shouting at the wind. He had
hopes that people would believe that he was talking to himself and that the entire conversation would be
chalked up to crossed lines.
It wasn't until the ferry docked that Da'ang caught up with Tat, the heavy man could tell his partner
wasn't happy. As they disembarked, Tat shook his head at the conflagration of outerwear his partner had
chosen, the charcoal grey slacks were hopelessly a season behind, but the bright red/green check jacket
over the purple droopy simply bespoke of insanity.
A three wheeled enclosed cart, the cheery white and blue of the elite stable, pulled to the curb, and the
pair boarded quietly amid the hustle and bustle of the ferry crowd.
"What was that load you pulled back there? Deserting me in the cubes?" Da'ang exploded when the
door was closed and they were firmly on their way.
"And let you speak of the Duke's business among strangers?" Tat decided to start his argument with
logic and reason this time.
"Hah? Let me remind you of who is the courier here and who is his assistant."
"Let me remind you of who actually does most of the work."
"Let me remind you of whose name is on the door."
"There aren't any names on our door," Tat looked confused for a second.
"Moot question, as it is, I have reason to believe that you are almost done with your training," Da'ang
leaned back into the seat and pretended to go to sleep.
"Training?"
The cart whizzed through uptown traffic, between the commercial shopping pyramids, skirting several
of the large parks in the midst of the city before turning onto the First Kings Concourse, home of the
business district.
The little white and blue cart rolled to a stop outside the Third Building and the pair got out, Tat taking a
moment to finish punching in the payment code. Da'ang stalked into the building without waiting, his hair
flapping in the light breeze.
Tat hurriedly made way after him.
They made way through the lobby, down into the main atrium and into the drinking salon, through the
salon out to the building service shops, into a maintenance area, though the loading area and out the back
of the building. Across the sunlit alleyway they walked, up the flight of rickety brown stairs and into the suite
of offices known as Da'ang Interventions.
"Ah, Home again," Da'ang mused as he palmed the lock.
Palatial by comparison to their accommodations of the past few weeks, the small office structure
fronted the alley and not the Second Kings Concourse, which it abutted. On the reverse side of DI a
seven-story relief mural of the "Second King" smiled down on the second concourse patrons.
"Shall I contact the Duke now, or should we make him wait a few hours in sweaty anticipation," Tat
asked, sliding into the personal and luxuriating at the feel of indoor plumbing.
"Let him wait, the little twit," yelled back Da'ang as he collapsed onto the collapsed couch.
Tat had always felt had they sold the structure (Da'ang actually owned the whole edifice - by
inheritance) and moved into the commercial district, they could make a fortune. But his less than astute
partner would hear none of it.
"Sell the family plot? Don't you realize the import of address like third point five First Kings Concourse?
Why the location alone makes this a house of the First Kings Inner Court!" was the argument that usually
greeted such a suggestion.
Tat usually countered with eight and nine digit figure bids that were vidded to them regularly.
"You would reduce the holdings of a lifetime to mere digits on a page, to mere money? Had not my
great grandfather sweated and toiled would I not have this, and you ask me to sell down my forefathers?"
Tat also had a ferverent belief that Da'ang was only waiting out for a higher bid.
The seven months since Tat had "joined" the firm had been the company's most prosperous. Not the
most difficult task, as in the previous five years of operation, Da'ang had shown a extremely minor profit
(.0000013% on revenues of eighty million). The relationship was strained at best, labored and nasty at it's
worst.
The two got to each other.
Tat emerged from the personal with a sense of satisfaction and looked at his partner, and considered
for the tenth time since morning on taking his talents elsewhere.
"Are you sure making the Duke wait is wise?"
"Ha! The Duke is a sawed off little grub, who deserves whatever this man...."
The door nearly rattled off it's hinges as the Royal Guard in Purple and Black burst into the room,
stopping Da'ang in mid-sentence.
"...whatever this man can do to serve his king and those in his court," Da'ang finished, as he slipped off
the couch and onto the floor.
A shorter soldier in a major's cape stepped in front of the not quite ceremonial pickets and raised his
stick across his chest.
"The Duke of Fifth order Greys," he started then paused as he took in his minor audience," requests
that you accompany me to a private meeting at his residence." The major sniffed once, then turned on his
heel and started back out.
"I think the Duke has waited long enough, let's get moving," Da'ang nearly spit the words from his
mouth, bouncing from the floor and falling into step neatly with the troops.
Tat shook his head and fell in behind.
The procession led out to a series of purple and black armored gravity galleys that filled the alleyway.
The captured pair boarded the command galley, and the line began to make it's way out of the narrow alley.
"Ooooh, comfy," Da'ang marveled at the seat cushions and bounced up and down playfully until he
caught the glare of the major, sitting in the elevated command chair with a look of disapproval on his face.
"Sit still, be quiet, look professional," Tat whispered without moving his lips and Da'ang went into
professional look number four: brooding, thoughtful countenance.
Through the streets, out of the clutter of skyscrapers and into the western half of city where the
imperial residences sat, the galleys moved through all traffic by right of way. The castles and smaller
mansions of the retainers dominated the area, which held the occasional tower, and a vast array of flora
and fauna had been imported to frame the palatial areas.
The galleys picked there way up narrow paths effortlessly, negotiating the tight curves with a ease that
showcased the maneuverability of the sizable craft. Into a courtyard of one of the mansions they arrived,
forming a diamond formation above the grass before settling neatly onto the ceramic posts which
represented a vast investment to kept the grass growing while having a full military company stationed in
one's backyard.
The pair were quickly escorted inside, and found themselves at an indoor gym, where bodies flung
themselves back and forth in fits of physical exertion. Da'ang stood fidgeting, Tat looking ever so slightly
nervous as the waited in amongst the din, surrounded by the soldiers.
From the far side of the room he approached, and Da'ang was by all rights stunned. Approaching amid
two assistants was the Duke of the Fifth order Greys, obviously the most unfit man in the room. He was
drawn, thin and pale, the hair on his head in sparse patches, all neatly arranged to give the effect of hair. He
looked for the most part a beaten man, gaunt and barely alive.
"Your lordship has to attend the Third Kings Royal garden show this afternoon, your escort is Lady of
the Second order Law and this evening is the First Prince's Private Ball, for which an escort assignment is
pending," the first assistant was reading from a floating computer screen, the Duke paying him no mind.
"Did you get it?" the Duke's voice boomed with such a volume, one wondered if his body could stand
the shock. His question directed at the pair who stood gawking like school children meeting a boyhood idol.
"Well...ah....that is...sir....your lordship...," Tat fumbled for a second, his mouth flopping.
"Of course your Dukeship sir, we got it, and would you really expect anything less from Da'ang
Interventions," the tongue of Da'ang started moving as he went to automatic, and used his own best
axiom: when in doubt, pretend your better than the other guy.
"You two. Come with me," the Duke boomed out and the pair followed the Duke and his assistants out
of the gym and into another room, a huge expanse of smooth stone and long pools of water, laid out
geometrically. With a wave of his frail hand, the assistants who trailed him turned and walked away,
stopping far enough away in the great room to be beyond earshot and yet close enough to be within
striking distance should the Duke need help.
The elder man stood quietly studying the water for a moment, and when Da'ang opened his mouth to
continue his spiel, Tat jabbed him in the leg and he remained silent.
"Let me see it," the Duke whispered, his voice barely audible above the sound of the lapping water,
such that the two merely looked at him until the Duke motioned with his hand.
From within his powder blue jacket, Tat produced a single sheet of paper, hand written in a tight scrawl.
The Duke took it trembling, and scanned it slowly. As he read it, Tat could see the health returning to his
face as if by magic, and took a step back.
"And your Dukeness should take note that I got him to throw in some smaller livestock at no additional
cost to you," Da'ang leaned into the Duke's vision," cause I know how you military men are, out there, the
tension of the battle, hey, hey, hey, wink, nod."
The Duke gave him a pained look and then looked back at the paper.
"Very good, very good, excellent job. I should employ couriers more often if all of you are this
efficient," the Duke smiled at Da'ang, then at Tat, then laughed out loud and motioned them away.
As the Duke departed through the far entrance, Da'ang turned to Tat and looked smug. Tat looked less
than overjoyed.
"See, was I not correct in acquiring the small becks or was I not?"
"As always," Tat was exasperated.
"So what's the problem?" Da'ang stood, hands on his hips and preening for the non-existing audience.
"Are we to be paid?" Tat asked.
The approaching guards with pickets held at the ready pre-empted his request.
................... .......................
Tat began to wonder if armored gravity galleys came with anything at all inside. A vast contrast to the
command galley, the pair now stood waiting inside a battle galley, it's spartan mesh steel and unforgiving
angles inviting injury and a lack of happiness. Da'ang seemed upset at the lack of comfy seats.
The side door whooshed open after twenty minutes, and the short major boarded his cape flapping in
the breeze. The door slammed shut behind him and he stared silently at the pair for several minutes.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of the major's company?" Tat began cordially.
"Or better, when do we get paid for efforts?" Da'ang blurted, and both men looked at him with surprise.
The major took his eyes off the rowdy man, and paced the galley, stopping at the odd compartment
every so often and giving it an impromptu inspection. He came back to the pair who stood silently
watching, and faced them.
"I am the first major of the Duke of fifth order greys, and I would like to thank you again on behalf of
the Duke, his liege and his king."
"And I am the man awaiting my share," Da'ang countered as the man finished speaking.
The major looked over at Tat, who gave an exasperated look, and the officer looked back at Da'ang
and did the same. The major slipped his hand into a fold in his tunic and produced a flat card, half as thick
as a thumb with a black square suspended inside. Without fanfare he slapped the card into Da'ang's
upturned palm and began again, waiting for the next indignity.
"I am the first major of the Duke of fifth order greys, an I would like to thank you again on behalf of the
Duke, his liege and his king. His lordship is most happy with your work in latest acquisition and would like to
offer you another job in your line. Would you be interested?"
"Da'ang Interventions considers it's courier operations it's primary line, major. If the Duke is as
generous in his next offer as he was in the previous, we shall take it under consideration," Tat smiled at the
major, tugging on Da'ang shoulder continuously.
Da'ang paid him no mind and was peering closely at the payment transfer card, as though by eyesight
he could verify it's validity.
"Why ain't the Duke asking?, I mean he contacted us personally the last time, and what is wrong with
him? Is he gonna live long enough to pay us for next time?" The questions tumbled from the mouth of the
loud one into the room and lay on the floor for a moment until the major answered him.
"As you may have noticed, the Duke is not in the best of health. He fell ill shortly after you last saw him
and is only now recovering. You saw his actions inside, even now he has taken to his chamber for rest. As
his first major the duty falls to me to carry out his wishes."
"What's the program?" Tat asked.
"The details will be delivered to your offices in the morning if you accept."
"You ask us to accept a job without knowing anything at all about what is required of us," Tat began to
get wary.
"I can assure you that the assignment is within the bounds of the powers of the Duke, and will not ask
you to commit treason in the eyes of the king. So it is sworn."
"Still an assignment which we have not evaluated, our effectiveness is compromised," Tat hemmed for
more information, which he hoped he could pump.
"This new assignment pays four times what the previous assignment did, if you accept now."
Tat knew in an instant that they could not do it, it was beyond their means to consider, and that the
acts they would commit in the course of the assignment would condemn them to early and deep
unmarked graves.
Da'ang only heard the multiple four.
"Try not to vid them over before the midmorn gong, Major, I need my beauty rest," Da'ang answered
grinning.
End Preview.
I've always been a science fiction fan, and so I conceived and brought forth to page my own
creation. Think it's Dune meets the mind of fifteen year old, and one none to bright.
I've got the story sketched into the second book and if I ever sit down long enough, I'll see if I
can write it up that far. I'll make it. I might have to retire first.
creation. Think it's Dune meets the mind of fifteen year old, and one none to bright.
I've got the story sketched into the second book and if I ever sit down long enough, I'll see if I
can write it up that far. I'll make it. I might have to retire first.