Chapter 2

“It was late, one night,
when the palace was asleep.
Out of my royal chamber
and into the garden I creep.
And I wait till the appointed time,
when the moon is lighting the pitch,
At which point, my peasant friend who looks just like me
arrives, and we make a switch.”

-Moxy Früvous, “King of Spain“

“È Solo Divertente Se Conosci L’italiano,” apart from meaning “It’s Only Funny If You Know Italian,” is the name of the weekly live sketch comedy show on San Finzione television whose cast of players includes Rita Delvecchio. Politics and current events being major sources of their material, Helen, Maria, and some of our other friends’ lives and goings-on are frequent butts of their jokes. Strangely, Helen’s a fan of the show. She might be the world’s worst choice of someone to piss off, but she appreciates a good zing.

I had walked down to the studio. The castle stands atop the largest hill in the city, La Collina; which means “The Hill” in Italian. (San Finzione was founded prior to the Renaissance; the early rulers were not creative in the Naming Things department, which is why you see La Familia’s name on everything in the country. Castle Finzione’s address is 1 Strada al Castillo, “The Road to the Castle.”) So, many places are within walking distance FROM the castle. Back up to it, however, is another matter. There’s an old escape tunnel that leads directly into Helen’s Study; which I know about now, because Troy’s fear of media attention means that it’s his preferred way of entering and exiting the castle. (Plus, you know, “We get to enter a CASTLE via A SECRET PASSAGE!!!”) The entrance is still halfway up the hill, though. In the rich neighborhood where most of La Familia and San Finzione’s other “elite” live.

The first time Rita and I met was in a panic room in one of Helen’s hotels that was being attacked by the Triads. (My life’s a bit odd; not sure if you knew that yet or not.) We really didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other then, because she needed to get out of the country and back to San Finzione in a hurry.

In this past year, though, Troy, Julie, or I have always needed to be close to Helen during her pregnancy because she’s needed someone to suppress her nicotine cravings; so, we’ve had chances to talk since then. (I know: “Why don’t we just use mind control to make Helen quit smoking,” right? Here’s the problem with that: Smoking has been Helen’s primary “non-Troy’s Cock” source of stress-relief since Julie gave her first one to her when they were kids. Cigarette, that is; not Troy’s Cock, Helen got that on her own later. But Troy says that because of who Helen is and the fact that she knows how to Do What We Do, her mind would fight back against a command like that, even if she didn’t consciously want to. Smoking is so ingrained in who Helen is as a person now that they’d have to do what would amount to rewriting her entire personality via brute force. Whether you think that’s something she needs or not, it’s the sort of playing with others’ lives and minds that Troy refuses to do. He’d rather have a Helen who smokes than risk having a non-smoker who might not entirely be Helen anymore. Commanding her that she doesn’t want one RIGHT NOW, though, is easier. She still got away from us four times that I know about before she got too big to outrun Julie.)

The actor who plays Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez, Supreme Commander of San Finzione’s Armed Forces and Helen’s most trusted adviser, directed me to Rita’s dressing room. He was being fitted for the prosthetic beer gut that he wears when portraying the Generalissimo. I frowned at it, but let it go. Ramirez was the commander of La Squadra de Ultimados before Helen made him her General, following some stuff that, since I’m now a Citizen of San Finzione with a security clearance, I probably shouldn’t talk about. (But since I’m also an American Citizen, too; and I never swore an oath or anything, I can tell you that Maria got kidnapped by an African warlord as part of an elaborate coup plot. And it’s not really classified, the whole world heard at least part of that story.)

A little over a year ago, an assassin ran up to Helen and stabbed her. She tried to do The Thing to him, but in the heat of the moment, did it to the entire room. It didn’t stop him. We found out later that the guy was deaf, so he couldn’t hear her command, but everyone else in the room did, including Ramirez. It’s not his fault; Helen commanded everyone not to move, so he couldn’t. But since we can’t tell the media “He would’ve shot the guy dead, but at the time, he was frozen by La Contessa’s mind powers,” his reputation with the public took a hit; thinking his freezing at the worst possible moment was a result of the once-proud Ultimado “going soft behind a desk.” and he became a bit of a joke for a while. Since it was such big news, the show’s writers were still doing a number on him; so, this past year, the actor had portrayed the Generalissimo as lazy and sleepy in sketches. La Contessa’s orders would frequently “disturb his siesta.”

I knew the man, and he absolutely didn’t deserve it, but I couldn’t tell them that he was taking the fall for Helen to keep her secret. A secret so badly kept that half the people think she can do it anyway, but things would still suck if the world found out it was real. For the sake of not interfering with their creative process, I resisted the urge to command them to let up on him and found Rita’s dressing room. I knocked, heard an “Avanti” from the other side, and went in.

Rita was changing into a cowboy outfit, I imagine for a sketch. (It’s not like Helen is her only character on the show. They do other stuff, too.) She smiled when she saw me.

“Susan! I wasn’t expecting you!”

“I know.” I told her, sitting down. “I’m afraid we’ve got another job for you.”

The smile was replaced by a look of exasperation. Usually, when Rita fills in, it’s for a party or ceremony that Helen doesn’t want to attend, but it would look bad if she didn’t. So, Rita gets paid to wear Helen’s designer dresses that cost more than Rita’s house and have champagne & caviar with movie stars and world leaders. Being a mommy to the twins for the Press was never part of the deal, and Maria had been paying her a lot more to do it, but it was getting to be too much.

“What am I doing now?” Rita sighed, collapsing into her chair for dramatic effect, I’m sure. “Cutting a ribbon while pushing a stroller? Another ‘mommy meeting,’ where I must listen to some Hollywood idiota tell me how I am raising La Contessa’s children incorrectly because of ‘a thing she read on the internet?’

“While Helen’s gone, Maria’s the one who pays you; save the theatrics for her.” I said with a smile. “It should be even easier than that, Rita. It’s just two hours; a reception for the children.” I paused. “For La Familia.”

Her eyes widened. She was clearly someone whom Helen had spent any amount of time at all discussing La Familia with. Her mouth began to follow her eyes. I sensed the objection coming and intercepted it.

“They should be good and liquored up for it, easy enough to fool. I’m sure you can do it, Rita.”

“Si, I can do it.” She responded. “At parties, for crowds and celebrities who do not know La Contessa personally.”

“I can assure you that none of these people really know Helen personally. And you won’t be alone. I’ll be there to help you sell it. Other people, too. The way I see it, we’re going to need a team for this, so I made a couple calls on the walk down here. We’re meeting up at the castle. But we absolutely need you, Rita.” I stopped and had a thought. “This reception isn’t some formal San Finzione custom I don’t know about? Like ‘No Sicilian can refuse a request on the day of his daughter’s wedding?’”

“No, nothing like that.” Rita answered. That was a relief. So, this wasn’t going to allow Lucinda to push Helen into something bigger by itself. The only thing I knew for certain yet was that this wasn’t just about meeting the newest members of La Familia.

“Ok, then. So, this is just another ‘playing Helen’ gig. A party at the palace while she’s out ... fighting crime in a mask or something; you’ve done it more times than I’m probably cleared to know. This time, it’ll be even easier. It’ll all be in Italian, so we don’t need the translators.”

Helen speaks, as far as we know, every language that there is, so in a setting where she might be called upon to do so, Rita works with translators and hidden microphones to fake Helen’s talent.

Being able to control minds brings with it confidence; the knowledge that you have an Ace-in-the-Hole in practically every situation. That confidence could cause you to do a lot of stupid things with it. Unless you’ve been raised to be careful and responsible like Troy was, and can at least wrangle a couple of nutty loose cannons like Julie and Helen must’ve been in those days the same direction; like he was able to. Then, you can channel it into something that you’re passionate about doing and become extremely good at that thing. That’s why Troy can make money have babies, Julie can make anything into a work of art, and Helen has absolutely no problem stopping and asking directions anywhere in the world. As for what I got from it? We’re hoping it’s “helping others,” but there’s every chance that it’s “I’m really good at remembering stuff I saw on TV at the right moment.” (Oh, and the psychic thing from before. That’s coming, I promise.)

“It is only for two hours?” Rita asked.

“At eight, you’ll get to tell them all to fuck off, just like Helen would.”

That made her smile. I’d imagine that’s one of the more fun parts of getting to be Helen.

“OK!” Rita said, getting up and hugging me. “We are pre-recording some things for this week’s show. I can be there at three.”

I hugged her back and left to let her continue whatever she had to get ready for next. I checked my phone. 11:56, six hours to go, and I hadn’t even needed to Do The Thing to persuade Rita. Someone who hadn’t lived my life might think everything was going to be this easy.

Heh. Sucker!

Since it was now between twelve and two in the afternoon, Nothing, as they say, was happening in San Finzione. The country still honors the old European tradition of “Go meet up with whoever you fuck, get laid, grab something quick, and come back to finish the day.” It’s sometimes nice to take a stroll and hear all the people who’ve left their windows open, because it’s also really hot at that time of day, and know that hopefully most of the adult population, at that moment, is getting some. Since I knew that was what Stavro probably had planned for lunch, and his plans would take him to Maria, I walked over to the Citizens’ Grievance Office to get a ride with him.

Stavro Poldouris was the oldest son of Costas Poldouris, the butcher who provided meat for the castle. He and Maria had made eyes at each other for years when he would make deliveries and she was still Helen’s maid. They finally got together as an unexpected and happy result of an elaborate prank on Helen that I’m proud to say I got to be a part of. (I wasn’t one of the people having sex in the park, I coordinated things on the computer back in Seattle.) Helen gave him a job as the head of her Citizens’ Grievance Office, hearing The People’s complaints and determining which matters were worth bringing to La Contessa’s direct attention, which ones could be handled by someone further down the government ladder, which ones were in serious need of being told to go fuck themselves, and which ones Helen would probably want to tell personally to go fuck themselves. (Have I mentioned that San Finzione is not one of those “democratic” monarchies? It’s a friendly country, and Helen makes sure The People’s voices are heard; but she’s got no problem telling someone who deserves it “La Contessa has heard your voice; We declare it to be a fucking stupid one.”)