TJ & Morg - Cover

TJ & Morg

Copyright© 2009 by Green Dragon

Chapter 11

"Admiral and Mrs Higgins, it is very kind of you to come; I'll take you to your table, if you will follow me" and Julie turned into the Dining Room, signalling the waitress, and led them to a table set into an alcove, overlooking the river.

The waitress held Mrs Higgins' chair for her and assisted the lady to be seated. The Admiral looked after himself. As the waitress placed the carafe of iced water and glasses on the table and produced napkins for the diners, Julie murmured to the Admiral,

"Your com is expected in eleven minutes so I have taken the liberty of ordering appetisers for Mrs Higgins and you; it is her usual behest" Julie nodded and returned to her place at the door to greet the next clients.

A beautiful and shapely but quite young female in a maid's uniform wheeled up the trolley with the appetisers, the waitress placed them, menus and wine lists on the table before her guests and both staff dipped a small curtesy and they too departed with Higgins observing to his wife, with only the slightest tinge of sarcasm,

"Quality service isn't it, dear?"

They both recalled her explanation for this, to Higgins' mind, waste of time

"Joe, Madam Julie Windsor owns or at least manages "Harriers" which is a Gentlemen's Club which encourages the wives and daughters to utilise the Dining facilities with the Club off limits to the Ladies plus she runs a very high class brothel out the back of the Club — its an open secret — for the use of Club members; the rumour is that the service there is as good quality as the food in the dining room is and I can attest to that. When a women of Julie Windsor's reputation and standing — and you had better believe the 'pull' she has in this town — makes a statement that your visit is important for the defence of the realm, I, for one, am going to take her seriously; and besides you haven't taken me out for lunch in years and the food is very good."

Higgins idly wondered if the staff doubled in the brothel, then unconvincingly tried to dismiss the thought on the grounds of the logistics involved and chatted idly with his wife about their choices. Their orders were taken and Higgins was barely settled when Julie reappeared,

"Admiral, your com link is established, you can take it in the booth" nodding at the glass walled compartment behind her station at the door. After apologising to his wife, she led him to the booth and then held the door open for him. She held out a PDA for him to use.

"Admiral Higgins. Can I be of service?"

Percy Gantry showed Berryl Hobson into the Third Space Lord's office and announced her. Dame Diana came around her desk and waved Berryl at a coffee table. Berryl took her seat not unsurprised at no handshake, and had barely settled,

"Ms Hobson, why have you arranged this meeting?"

Berryl smiled slightly as she placed her PDA on the small table and nodded at it

"In seven minutes, you are to make a com. A lady will answer and you will identify yourself and after a small wait someone you know very well will answer..."

Berryl then began a somewhat long winded tale about the exploits of Morg, Ivy and her son TJ, explaining how she had been able to take advantage of the "Palace" to get this appointment.

" ... and I shamelessly took advantage."

Diana Halliday was on the verge of getting the Yard Police to throw the woman out. Berryl picked up the PDA and entered a code, waited for several seconds,

"Here she is" and handed the instrument to a somewhat annoyed Admiral who reflexly took it and spoke into it

"This is Admiral Halliday..."

"Good day to you Admiral" spoke back a cultured female voice, "I have been awaiting your com; please hold for a minute or two while I get your friend."

There were noises and voices in the background as she waited until she heard the familiar voice,

"Admiral Higgins. Can I be of service?"

Halliday's eyes opened wide and the recovering her poise, said

"Yes, Joe; you can be of service. Tell me exactly where you are."

It was Higgins' turn to rear back in surprise at hearing Diana Halliday's voice.

"Diana, I am in a com booth in "Harriers" in Gorgipest, and where are you?"

"My office in BuShips. Just to be sure of things, tell me something that only you and I know."

Higgins' face cracked into a huge smile

"You always said you admired the view between your ankles of the canopy over the bed in the "Majestic's"..."

"Ah, thank you very much for that, Joe; and besides it was the "Majesty" not the "Majestic" — you always did get that wrong."

Neurones were cross connecting, sequentially flashing, holding hands and cavorting joyously about his brain case,

"She was right, after all" he mused.

"Pardon?" asked Halliday.

"I was dragged to this luncheon date by my wife because she was told by the Madam of this place that is was important for the defence of the realm. How right she is."

"Yes, and now I've got to find out about this from Ms ... Joe, do you have any relatives down there? I know you came from Styx originally."

"Might have had but family said cousin several times removed died a couple of decades ago without issue as they so delicately put it."

"Suit. I'll get back to you asap when I get details on this; meantime not a word about this."

"Agreed. Definitively. See you soon, Diana. Higgins clear."

Deep in thought, Higgins returned to his table to find two more places had been set. His unspoken enquiry was waved off by his wife. He began nibbling at the appetisers, but they could have been made of wet cardboard for all he noticed. His attention was several parsecs away — BuShips to be precise and he was most definitely not remembering past (extremely enjoyable pre-marriage) events. His mind was firmly focussed upon the recent conversation; not on the content or conversationalist but the mere fact of its occurrence.

His train of thought was slightly disturbed by the arrival of the meals in the hands of a large well dressed young man who after placing the plates sat at one of the vacant settings, the other setting being occupied by an older equally well dressed but otherwise almost nondescript man. His attention was back fully at his table as the big fellow said,

"Good day to you Admiral. Mrs Higgins. Please begin your meal — it does lose some of its appeal if allowed to cool. Apart from introductions, we can converse over coffee. My companion is Detective Chief Superintendent Sir William Oscar and I am George Windsor. Please, your meal?"

The Admiral had sat through enough unproductive meetings, briefings, conferences, whatever, that he was able to place his brain in neutral, and on this occasion he was able to distract himself with the meal which as his wife had proclaimed was of excellent quality.

They had finished the course and as the waitress returned with her assistant to clear away the crockery and cutlery, Julie appeared,

"Mrs Higgins, the men will be talking business and perhaps it might be best that you not know. Come, I'll introduce you to the female side of the family and we can have our coffee. Morg, Anataver Room is ready for you."

The men stood as the ladies departed and George Windsor led them to the Anataver Room (a small sitting room, suitable for an assignation or even a discreet chat). As they departed the Dining Room, Oscar smiled at Higgins,

"She does that so well."

The men settled and Morg filled the mugs allowing the men to add to their choice including a choice of the strong stuff. Morg sat back and after a satisfactory sampling of his brew,

"To properly introduce myself, Sir, I am the oldest of the owner's brood, known by my nickname, Morg, to which I most readily answer. In another world, I am Gunlayer 3rd Windsor, G., on leave after training schools prior to joining "Naseby". My interest in your recent conversation with your old friend — no, I was not eavesdropping and know nothing about the content of your conversation, but I am in part responsible for your being able to have that conversation. Some family friends discovered the electronics behind the device and we got to hear about it and helped, financially, in the development to this stage. It is barely out of the experimental stage and will need a lot more development before it is ready for, say, fleet use. Legally, the ideas are the property of HSW Enterprises Incorporated, the name will change later, and Sarnt, here, is a shareholder and uses the system to have little chats with a colleague in Settlement — still very unofficially. The shareholders allow that such a system should be offered to the Crown — ah, on a strictly commercial basis, you are not getting it as a gift. But we wish to involve the Crown in the establishing of the corporation and in our obtaining patents which we anticipate will be kept under Royal Prerogative. Our reason for telling you these details is so you will not use your resources to investigate because it would draw attention to us and increase the number of people who have some knowledge. Instead you will be able to get whatever information you require by simply asking Bill. He is fully conversant with all the non technical information about the organisation and the use of the system. Not too many people can understand the technical side anyway."

As Morg settled back, Higgins inhaled deeply and blew out a long breath.

"Young man, that is a lot to absorb in a moment but why are you in the Navy — glad to have you and all that — but you are wasted in Andrew particularly on the lower deck?"

"I am self educated, bastard born and my mother is a brothel keeper, Sir."

"That's changing."

"Perhaps, in time for my bastard grandchildren" Morg laughed "and we want to see the Galaxy."

"At least you'll see the local space, but not much and not often. Merchant Marine would have been better but the pay and conditions are, can I say, not good?"

"We're thinking on couriers, sir, and of course we will be shamelessly trading on friends in high places."

"That brings up another very important point. Your knowledge can't be allowed to swan about the galaxy. You will be marked men."

"Only as children of wealthy families and there are a few of those in the Service."

"That's true but the association will be there; but not necessarily the link to any knowledge. A sort of reverse camouflage." Higgins argued against himself. He turned to DCS Oscar,

"Sir William, your part in this?"

Oscar kept his version to a semiofficial contact with the Club and exchange of favours which seemed to satisfy Higgins. Admiral Higgins excused himself by pointing out he had to return to the Yard and as the men were walking back to meet the ladies, he informed Morg,

""Naseby" is going up for refit — actually the whole squadron is and the crews will be paid off," he regarded Morg pensively "and you've not enough space time for couriers; and you are in the wrong mustering. I'll see what I can do" and made his farewells.

...

"Now, Mrs Hobson, what do you want? You have us at not quite at your mercy but we are in a delicate position. We need that capability; it has been a fantasy of the Service ever since we formed — the ability of the Admiralty to pass command and information across space in real time"

"Admiral Halliday, this is in the form of initial negotiating our relationship. We presumed the Navy would have a great interest in the capability and you have confirmed this. We, that is the directors, have discussed this and in return for Royal protection, an exclusive deal can be made with the Crown. The company which is registered as a private corporation must, to our minds, remain in our hands to be able to guarantee security and that means access to whatever finance we need but be advised we can input considerable finance and might not even require assistance in this field. But you will agree that the patents must be protected — absolutely. I am travelling to Gorgipest next week on the "Hebrides Trader" which is making a direct voyage. My reason is that my son will be joining his ship shortly after we arrive and I will be meeting with the family of his friend, Julie Windsor and her daughters and be aware, she manages and probably owns a Gentlemen's Club, "Harriers", which has the reputation as being a very high class brothel; scandalous of course, and hardly the person likely to be involved in state secrets. She is the "W" in HSW.

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