Chapter 4

The rooms, as expected, were the best that Coriola Station had to offer a guest. Though to be honest neither Amanda nor I were that bothered; clean and tidy sufficed for us both, as anyone would know if they ever saw her bedroom in the palace on Lassos, the mostly empty, small second continent where the Royal Palace is on the planet Vreekoos. Vicki though, was a different matter. She has the unique ability to seemingly cause a mess simply by walking through somewhere. (Yes, an exaggeration I know, but she can be messy.) As Amanda was now scheduled to be doing an exclusive interview with the top newsie on the planet, I took the opportunity to drop my holo disguise, grab my sketch pad and head out to draw whatever took my interest.

The station was still crowded, but no longer the mass throngs that had greeted us and so I found a spot and started to draw some of the scenes of our progress from the docking tube that I remembered; particularly the ones I knew that had attracted Amanda’s attention. As ever, it didn’t take too long before I attracted a crowd of the curious, mostly kids, but a couple of adults too.

“You draw good,” one of the kids finally ventured to say.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Do you want me to draw you?”

“I can’t pay you,” she squeaked at being put on the spot.

“I don’t charge,” I chuckled and began a quick sketch, catching her features including the much larger eyes of the Raffagee.

“Oh wow! Would you look at that!” one of the older ones cried out when I’d finished. “He really caught your looks, Tinnalimea.”

“Oh! And it’s mine to keep?” she asked, looking enthralled.

“Yes. Ask the AIs to seal it for you so it won’t smudge,” I replied with a broad smile at her enthusiasm.

“I will. Thank you.”

“Anyone else?” I asked.

“Could you do the two of us?” a young human couple asked.

“Of course, as a couple or as friends?”

“Ooh, a couple, please.”

And so it went, mostly kids, but increasingly adults came to watch and then leave with a drawing until finally it was time to head back and do my duty with Amanda for the formal reception.

“By the gods, this is boring,” I muttered under my breath as Amanda and I exchanged platitudes with yet another couple of interchangeable guests who were attending.

“Now, now, my love. This is a formal necessity,” Amanda chuckled quietly.

“I know. Doesn’t make it any less boring though.”

“True, but at least you get to escape occasionally.”

“That’s true. You truly have my sympathy, Ammie,” I replied, using my special name for her.

“Thank you. Tomorrow we go down and visit the joint zone, then the next day the Raffagee zone, followed by the human one.”

“More of the same?”

“Just a ceremonial opening of a new componentry manufactory and a walkaround followed by a sit-down dinner with the people running the zone.”

“I’ll be wandering around doing my bit,” I chuckled.

“Lucky you! But that drawing you did today of that Raffagee child was breath-taking.”

“You liked?”

“Yes, you captured a wild spirit beautifully.”

“You can have a copy. All my works are available to you,” I chuckled as we turned to greet yet another guest.

The reception did get a lot more interesting after the meet and greet; though I was grateful to the AIs for helping me to remember the names of all those whom I had met in the line. As it was a public event and there were newsies there, we were both wearing our holo-disguises which altered our features and in Amanda’s case her hair colouring to match that of her Mum. The AIs surreptitiously corrected anyone’s memories or questions on why we appeared different in public or private unless they actually needed to know, or at least understood and would keep their mouths shut. The security and privacy of the Royal family when not performing a public duty was a paramount part of AI microprogramming as well as top-most in the minds of those tasked with carrying it out. Yet any casual observer simply wouldn’t see it. The AIs monitored anyone for ill intent around them and people like Trusha were always positioned to intercept any ‘professionals’ who breached the perimeter. All this had been built up and gradually improved over the years since the murder of Amantil’s family by a rogue Orliantomin who had been violently opposed to any relaxation of Imperial Authoritarianism and the ‘right’ of the Emperor/Empress and Nobility to do as they damned well pleased with the people below them. There were still a few ‘arch-conservatives’ around, however Amantil being Amantil had gradually eased them out of any positions of ‘real’ power and isolated them even from each other, whilst also having the AIs and ImpSec keep a close eye on them.

Hence, I found myself talking to some of the civic leaders in the Raffagee part of the station’s staff and getting their opinion on various things which was initially guarded, though gradually lightened up as I turned on the charm and candour.

“So, what is it like being the boyfriend of the Princess Royal?” the wife of a senior Monitor asked me eagerly.

“No different to a normal boyfriend/girlfriend relationship,” I chuckled. “Only without any clandestine stuff,” I added, making her giggle.

“Ah yes, propriety and ‘the rules’,” she nodded.

“Very much so. Amanda has a reputation to maintain and I have no intentions of bringing that down or creating a scandal around her. That means always being where we are supposed to be, doing what we are supposed to be doing.”

“You have not even kissed?”

“Of course we have,” I chuckled. “Cuddled too, but no more.”

“Ah, I see,” she nodded. “Does it not get tiresome?”

“She’s worth waiting for. I’ve known her all my life and don’t want to spoil a thing.”

“Or irritate her mother?”

“That too,” I laughed. “Her Serenissima Amantil is nice, but not someone you want to get on the wrong side of.”

“Have you known the Princess all your life?” another lady asked.

“Yes. My father and mother are good friends with the Empress,” I nodded.

“There is scant information on you with the AI network is all,” she frowned. “Lots of newsie articles but not many details, so to speak.”

“That’s to do with privacy. Last thing I want is for the newsies to start camping outside my parents’ place,” I chuckled, though the newsie media knew very well not to irritate or make up stuff about Dad.

“So, your mother and father are famous?”

“My father is. He’s Cure David.”

“Oh, I know David. I assisted him in the Raffagee conflict. My name is Vellitee. Please remember me to him when next you meet.”

“I will. I’m sure he’d like to know that you are doing well.”

“I am. I’m leading the research into just what it is a Cure might be able to do to assist our terminal patients,” she beamed.

“Cross genetic similarities?” I asked out of curiosity, as I knew exactly what it was that Dad did, though we’d never discussed it.

“Yes, whilst we cannot breed with humans, we are compatible sexually and both species use DNA as their basic genetic building blocks,” she nodded.

“Does somewhat give credence to the progenitor theory of galactic life; the number of worlds where humanoid life developed,” I replied thoughtfully.

“Only with no evidence of the progenitors ... assuming there were some,” she chuckled.

“True,” I nodded with a smile.

“I’d better let you continue mingling now, much as I’d like to monopolise you,” she chuckled. “It was good to meet David’s son though.”

“I will remember you to Dad. He’s sure to be pleased that a friend is doing well for herself,” I replied as we bade farewell to each other.

“Anything interesting?” Amanda asked as I rejoined her.

“In the case, no, but Vellitee is apparently a friend of my Dad’s,” I replied.

“Oh, must be from the battle of Hiralgo,” Amanda nodded.

“Probably, though she never actually said.”

“It does look like there are few, if any, issues between human and Raffagee, at least at the station as far as I can tell. Trusha isn’t picking up any major tensions between the species either,” Amanda informed me.

“Matches what I picked up doing my hobby,” I nodded.

“Looks like the actual issue ... assuming there is one, is in the Raffagee zone.”

“Or the mixed one, though the AIs have recorded no major incidents in either.”

“The Raffagee zone is their territory. It’s not observed in the same way as the human territory,” Amanda informed me.

“How do they maintain order?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Far more in the way of maintaining a security presence. It seems to be a way of keeping their males ... occupied,” Amanda chuckled.

“Hmm, best let Kiria know. There may be issues if their Guardian equivalents take an interest in us,” I frowned.

“I forwarded the info to Tillan, so he’s probably informed her. Do mention it though when you meet up on the surface.”

“No problem, Ammie.”

The following day we were shuttled down to the jointly administered human/Raffagee zone to another tumultuous greeting by the throngs of well-wishers. Amanda, as she had during the station visit, greeted the formal reception first and then we both did a walkabout to say hello to the crowds of both species.

“Don’t you worry about Amanda when she does this?” I asked Trusha in passing.

“Not really, there are no signs of hostiles in the crowds or people with neutral expressions that might indicate a potential problem,” she replied. “Amanda is good at spotting the signs as well, so will avoid any who might lunge at her.”

“True. Just thought the size of the crowd might have you on a higher alert.”

“I’m always on a higher alert, Dayyev,” she chuckled, as if talking to an idiot.

“Ah, yes, sorry about that,” I grinned.

“Yeah, right,” she replied with a slight smile.

As was usual in such crowds, everyone just wanted to see and hopefully speak to Amanda, though she took extra efforts to speak to the young and receive the small handmade flowers they had brought with her usual brilliant smile.

“You are so special,” I said quietly as we finally made it to the lift system to be taken to the Governor’s residence where we’d be staying.

“Special?” she quizzed.

“You won their hearts and support simply by being you,” I explained.

“That’s easy,” she smiled. “They just want to believe, as my Mother’s subjects, that those at the top care about their worlds and lives ... which we do.”

“Still makes you pretty special,” I chuckled and kissed her softly.

“Thank you, my love,” she smiled, making my heart skip a beat.

Hisuat Genill, the Governor of Coriola was a small fussy man who was clearly somewhat in awe of Amanda, though gradually he relaxed as he realised she wasn’t going to be a stickler for protocol when staying at the Residence. He was also delighted to give us a lot of background information on all the zones of Coriola.