Chapter 15

“Okay so the country has a pre-school, primary and secondary level institutions.”

“We also have technical schools,” Cecelia explained.

“So how do you train professionals. You have a doctorate, correct?”

She nodded. “Yes. Anyone seeking tertiary level education, outside the two year technical training, must attend a foreign university.”

“How do they do that?” I asked.

“Well in most cases the cost is covered by the government. But as might be expected because it is so expensive the slots are very competitive.”

“So free education, but only for the best. Whatever that means.”

“Well for those most likely to succeed at it,” mother said.

“So where do they go?”

“Well, most go to universities in England or the United States. A few to Germany. Their schools are very good, but, of course German is not our first language. Many go the Swiss schools. Of course with our population size it is not so many every year.”

“Where did you attend university?”

“I did my undergraduate work in the United States, and my graduate studies later in Britain.”

“That must have been after dad...”

“Yes. It was very hard to stay away from you then. I was already regent and spent much time traveling back and forth to the UK. Not so difficult when you have your own jet at your disposal.”

“Surely if it was safe for you...”

“James three attempts were made on my life, one on an official visit to the U.S. Desiree can show you the files.”

“So how do our citizens travel?”

“By air. Typically via chartered aircraft.”

“I could not travel if I wanted to. I don’t have my passport.”

“You still have a U.S. Passport. Jordan packed it when she was at your apartment.”

“Under the name of James Sutton.”

“Well if you travel officially you won’t need a passport. You’ll be a head of state in a couple of weeks.”

“The head of state of Mariner.” I shook my head in disbelief of my own fate.

“So back to education,” Desiree said, speaking for the first time. “You have a visit to Prince Fillippo Secondary School scheduled for tomorrow. You wanted to be able to get closer to the masses. You’ll get to meet a number of teenagers and teachers, and speak before an assembly of students.”

“Great. What will I speak about?”

“Elisa, your speech writer, will be meeting with you this afternoon so you can work on that.”

The trip to the school went well. Between us, Elisa and I managed to throw together a rousing speech on the benefits of education with the promise of foreign travel for the highest performers, and interesting technical employment to the others.

The next day Desiree scheduled a block on my calendar with a note to appear at the carriage house after lunch. When I got there I did not see the limo or the lovely Bianca. Only the ravishing Desiree wearing a jacket over her low cut top and hose under her short full skirt. It was brisk outside. She was standing next to a Mariner Blue Porsche 911.

“I’m afraid I’m not as good a chauffeur as the lovely Bianca, James,” she said sliding into the drivers seat. “Please get in.”

I open the passenger door and slid into the bucket seat.

“No security detail?”

“This is an unscheduled trip. Besides you have me.”

I snapped the seatbelt on as she peeled out. I saw her tap her earpiece. “Bitcropper away.”

I started. Bitcropper was one of my online pseudonyms. Obviously I was right to suspect Desiree was going through my online footprint.

“How do you like the car?”

“A bit flashy.”

“So you don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Good, since it’s yours.”

“Will I ever get to drive myself again?”

“Probably not. At least not in Mariner.”

We roared out the gate, which I saw had already been opened for us.

“So where are we going?”

“A little joy ride. And to meet someone.”

“Who?”

“It’s kind of a surprise. So in 1913 Prince Fillippo the Younger introduced aviation to Mariner. At that time the only way to get into or out of Mariner was using the foot paths through one of the three passes. I’m told that was a long and dangerous journey.”

“You’re told? Aren’t they still used?”

“Not so much. Almost all passage into and out of Mariner goes by air now.”

“So is this a history lesson? I thought Jessica was my history teacher.”

“This is more economic. I just wanted you to have the background.” Desiree blew past a lorry, slipping to the left lane and then back to the right.

“So passenger traffic is not so great that we need regularly scheduled flights. Usually groups get together and hire a chartered flight. So Winthrope Air typically runs many cargo flights and unscheduled passenger charter flights.”

“So Winthrope Air? Is that another one of my mother’s companies?”

“Not exactly.”

“So is that how our foreign university students get out of the country and back?”

“Yes exactly. They go out on a chartered flight. There is usually a single flight that makes multiple stopovers to deliver all of them. And another to collect them for breaks and summers, if they don’t have classes, as in America.”

I saw we were approaching a fenced area. Over the gate was the sign: Princess Eleonora Air Field. It was not a very big airfield. But it seemed big enough. I could see several large body air transport craft. Like in all of Mariner mountains surrounded the airfield and I could not imagine flying in or out was that pleasant for a pilot.

We were stopped by the guards at the gate, but Desiree flashed something and the guard backed up and saluted and let her through. We drove inside and headed for the single terminal building. Reaching it she rounded the corner and I saw what were likely offices along the back of the building.

She pulled into a parking slot next to a BMW and killed the engine.

“So why are we here?” I asked.

“All in good time, James. Come on.”

She opened her door and got out. I shrugged and followed her.

When we got to the building she opened the door. I thought about the high level of security at almost every other airport in the western world. This door was not even locked.

Inside I could smell old paper, motor oil and metal. It was very fitting for a mid twentieth century airfield office and odd in the twenty-first.

There were several people working in the office. Desiree ignored them and they ignored us. She walked up to a door with an old fashioned etched glass window. On the door in gold was the name Huston Winthrope and under it in half height letters President Winthrope Air.

She tapped on the door and opened it.

“One of these days I’m going to have to get a secretary,” a rough voice said in a heavy Mariner accent.

I stepped to the doorway and saw him. He was standing behind an old wooden desk. There was set of duel monitors suspended so they hung off one side. The desk itself had piles of papers on it. Cluttered is the word that came to mind.

The man was older. Grey hair. Rough features. Like Bogart or Eastwood. He was wearing a leather flight jacket with a sheepskin collar. He looked fit, with sharp eyes. When he saw Desiree he almost ran around the desk. She jumped into his arms.

“Desiree,” he said kissing her. Intimacy was common in Mariner. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that they were exhibiting all the signs of having been so. When the kiss finished he stood with his arm around her and looked at me.

“Is this him?” he asked, though I could see he already knew because I saw the recognition in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said to him. Then to me, “James this is your grandfather Huston Winthrope.”

“So the Hidden Prince has come home,” he said. He did not sound particularly glad to see me.

“Grandfather?” I said.

“Huston will do.” He hesitated and then added, “Your Highness.”

“James, please.” I said.

“Okay James. I wondered when your mother was going to get around to bringing you to see me. I see she didn’t.” He turned back to Desiree who he was still holding. “Your idea?”

“Yes. It was time.”

“Past time.” He released my spymaster and turned back to his desk. “Take a seat.”

I looked around and saw the only seat had a stack of papers on it. I picked them up and sat them on the floor.

He laughed. I heard a drawer open and he had pulled out a glass bottle and three shot glasses. He poured a couple of fingers in each one and handed one to Desiree, who was still standing, and me. Desiree sat herself down on the corner of his desk. We both admired her legs for a second and she looked at us both, amused.

“You should know James that I never approved of your mother’s plan to keep your heritage from you. That was for a lot of reasons, some of them personal. One was I didn’t want to see everything dumped on you at once as has obviously happened. Propaganda about you notwithstanding.”

“Propaganda?”

“We’ve got to get the principality ready for your ascension to the throne,” Desiree said. “They need to feel like they know you.”

Huston gave her a sharp look, then looked away and shook his head. “Girl you’re too smart for your own good sometimes.”

“So mother and you don’t get along?” I asked sipping at my drink. It was a mid-quality scotch.

“Let’s just say that wasn’t the first decision that she’s made that I didn’t agree with.”

“Becoming consort?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That was one of the ones I think she got right. Your father was a hell of a young man, cut down too soon.” He stop and emptied half his glass. “But that was a decision that came too long and hard.”

“Huston,” Desiree said in warning. There was something she didn’t want him to say.

He waved her off. “Ancient history now. She’s regent. Well for another ... what? ... month? ... two months?”

“About three weeks. I know you got an invitation,” Desiree said.