Chapter 8

Standing in the bedroom, Gavril was pulling down the sleeves of his jacket one last time as he tried to compose himself in the mirror. He heard the doorbell ring and knew that all good things must come to an end.

The last 36 hours had been one of extremes — from memorization and drill to delicious debauchery. How a young lady of better society knew so much about great sex was a mystery that Gavril hoped would tease him for years to come. Being a boy-toy for a few hours had many worthwhile benefits.

He wiped the smile from his face and brought himself back to the moment. At least the only needle-toothed gelatinous worms he might encounter that night would be in his salad tonight and he would be able to manage them with the outer most fork on the left hand side of his plate. If the salad was properly prepared, he wouldn't need to use the flat, broad knife furthest out on the right hand side before the spoons. He squelched his impulse to run his hand through his hair. Having all of his nervous tics pointed out to him had been worse than memorizing silverware.

His rank had been raised from second to first lieutenant according to his dress fatigues. Apparently the colonel had awarded him another rise in rank, which made no sense to Gavril. He had also been inducted into a unit whose insignia he didn't recognize. The double absurdity of a lieutenant escorting a colonel, of a mudballer escorting a royal, gave Gavril an added worry in his gut every time the thought crossed his mind. He really wanted a jute, or joint, or whatever the hell they called it at Forward Base Charlie. He could have used something to mask the pain in his gut.

One last check and he strode out to the main room to greet the driver and begin his last trial. His first shock was seeing the colonel standing very close to Kamaria deep in conversation. The second was when she turned around and he realized she had the same unit insignia on her dress uniform that he did.

"Fayta, you look beautiful tonight. I look forward to spending the evening with you," Gavril said as he had been rehearsed.

The colonel lifted her eyebrows as she digested his words. She nodded her head. "You said the right words and spoke them without mumbling. Of course, you're totally full of shit, but I'll let that pass for the moment."

They all laughed.

Gavril raised his hand and said, "True, I'm not especially looking forward to the next hours amongst the betters on this planet."

"Oo," said the colonel as she walked over and ran an index finger down Gavril's chest. "So you do have some guts outside the jungle. Are you certain you want to spend the evening with me?"

"Yeah," Gavril said as the sweat broke out on his neck, "but not if you're going to keep doing that all night."

"Fair enough, Gavril," she said. Her saying his name for the second time sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. "Do you need a drink to steady your nerves?"

"I'll wait for the wangoo with panishtato, if you don't mind," Gavril said. "Kamaria doesn't bring the serious stuff home, which is about the only fault I can find with her."

"You can tell her father that when you meet him tonight," Fayta said, a devilish smile playing on her face. "He's the Foreign Secretary."

"Ah," Gavril said, trying to comprehend the fresh little bit of news.

He looked past Fayta to Kamaria. The look of her face was one of a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Daddy owned the fancy restaurant. Daddy couldn't be at the fancy restaurant because he was the fucking Foreign Secretary of an entire fucking planet. Meanwhile, back at the restaurant, gullible sergeant, er lieutenant, is banging his daughter with unrestrained debauchery...

"You need to get going, you two," Kamaria said. "Everyone will see what a handsome couple you make but you've got to be there to be seen."

She walked to the front door and opened it.

Gavril offered his arm and Fayta put her arm through it. The driver opened the back door and Fayta slid onto the seat. Walking to the other side, Gavril let himself in the vehicle. He had no desire to play the part of the escort until the last moment.

"I don't bite, Gavril," Fayta said, tapping the empty space between them.

"I have only your word on that," Gavril said. "I know you told me in so many words not to be concerned with rank or position, but you've got to admit that this circumstance you've engineered is a bit weird."

Fayta snorted. "This circumstance, as you call it, is much more difficult for me than it is for you." She held up her hand when Gavril started to object. "Hold your protest for the moment. First, I'm a royal who was reluctantly thrust into this royalty gig. Among ourselves, we detest the title. We are Volentin and each of us who carry the name has earned the right to that name. The name Volentin means more to us than royalty, no matter what it does for the rest of the inhabitants of human space.

"Second, most normal humans make us uncomfortable. There is a tremendous gulf between the Families and the rest of humankind. However, there is also a great war ripping through human space. There are few Families, and even fewer Volentin to lead humanity into battle and to organize the teeming mass of normal humans to fight. There is another difference. I am constantly confronted with otherwise intelligent beings who don't understand what we are facing and what we are doing, people who selfishly serve only themselves.

"Finally, I hate planets in general and I only feel comfortable around proven warriors. You are my escort tonight because you meet my personal criteria. So get over yourself and your minor concerns. You are going to hold my arm and watch my back tonight. If I have to take out my knife tonight and strike someone down myself you will have failed. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Gavril said and slid over. "I'm surprised that you understand what is happening on Awanil. I'm ordered around by idiots and morons when all I'm trying to do is keep my men alive and on task. I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"You could have taken the un-lamentable Captain Russell and blown him into molecular bits for his stupidity. No one would have said anything," Fayta said. "Instead, you took control of his men and got everyone out of there. I would not have had as much discipline."

"What happened to Captain Russell?" Gavril asked, hardly daring to look at her because of the question.

"He's still out at the forward base," Fayta said. "He has a quota of dead Vizz to fill and a threat that if he does anything stupid again, every non-commissioned officer has my personal permission to execute him on the spot. The fool accused me of undermining his authority and I had to point out that he had none to begin with and was unlikely to gain any in the near future. I needed bodies in the field and that's what he was."

"Meanwhile I get to drink and dance the night away with the belle of the ball," Gavril said.

"I'm glad you've changed your tune and decided to try to get into my panties," Fayta said with a dig of her elbow.

"All I ask is that you drop the cryptic hints," Gavril said. "I've got a lot to juggle and I don't want to offend you by misreading your intent."

Fayta reached over with her right hand and took his left cheek. She turned his face to her, kissing him softly on the lips. "No hints. If you complete tonight's mission, there will be more of this."

She kissed him again, this time deeply.

"Wow," was all that Gavril could muster.

The car came to a stop and didn't move again. The driver knocked twice on the privacy window and then exited the car.

"Come. Let us entertain the plebeians," Fayta said.

"Ah, yeah, whoever they are," Gavril said, looking at the door expectantly.

Fayta flipped a switch and a series of hydraulic hisses and metallic clicks sounded in the cabin. She pressed the door tab and the door magically slid upwards into the interior of the roof.