Dramocles: An Intergalactic Soap Opera (20 page)

“I like it here,” Chemise said. “On Glorm I’m a special person, practically a princess. On Earth, I’d be just another paranoid Jewish girl. And there’s another reason, too.…”

Her words faltered. She was standing very close to Dramocles, and he was aware of her forearm brushing against his. Now he noticed the fineness of her complexion, the way her dark lashes fringed eyes of deepest blue. Her body, slim, yet with a womanly fullness, gave off a delicate perfume, an olfactory essence of herself. When she looked up at him, Dramocles felt an odd impact in the pit of his stomach. He recognized it as the first sign of love. And while it lasted, love was the most glorious of things, as fresh and astonishing the tenth or hundredth time as the first. Love was a food that never cloyed the appetite, Dramocles thought, and took the beautiful Earth girl into his arms.

His perfect happiness was marred only by the thought of the distress Lyrae would feel when the Chamberlain told her she had been replaced. It would be difficult for a time, but he knew he could bear it. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Lyrae around much recently.

“Oh, Dram,” Chemise said, nestling against his chest, “I had hoped ever since I saw you–but I never dreamed–oh, I’m all confused.”

“There, there, my pretty little orlichthoon,” he said, the words rumbling tenderly in his chest. “All will yet be well. Let’s go and see if Count John has come to any decision.”

Hand in hand they returned to the Operations Room.

An orlichthoon is a green, bronze, and scarlet bird indigenous to Glorm and much invoked by lovers as a synonym for engaging dearness.

46

As soon as they entered the Operations Room, the special closed-circuit television phone rang. Dramocles answered it, and saw Anne in the viewing plate. She had changed from her uniform to a see-through blouse and tight skirt. Her hair was brushed out and decorated with jeweled fireflies. She looked like a victorious queen.

“Dramocles,” she said, “I won’t keep you in suspense. The upshot of our deliberations is to confirm you as king of Glorm, since your son, Prince Chuch, is not interested in the position.”

“He’s not? How did that happen?”

“When he was visiting here, John gave him a little slave girl to torture. Chuch made the mistake of talking to her instead. Now he has run off with her. I have just been told that he plans to join a commune and eat natural foods in some entirely different star system.”

“That’s crazy,” Dramocles said.

“Oh, no doubt he’ll be back when the novelty wears off. But let me continue. The Count and I decided that we would not act punitively toward you, even though it is within our power and we certainly have reason enough to do so. But we
are
going to charge you all of the expenses of this war. Our fuel bill for the two fleets alone is enormous. Then there are the salaries for the various troops, the costs of the Lekk campaign, and compensation for the damage Haldemar’s berserkers did to Vacation City. And you must also pay a bonus to Haldemar to give to his men in lieu of their sacking Glorm. It was the only way he would agree to go home. It will all cost you a great deal, Dramocles, but you must admit it is fair, certainly much fairer than you were when you started this mess.”

“I was only following my destiny,” Dramocles said.

“I know. It’s why everyone forgives you. What is happening with your destiny, anyhow?”

“Right now, it’s whatever you and John say it is.”

“That humility of yours won’t last a week,” Anne said. “It’s not your style at all. I just hope you won’t bring us all to the brink of war the next time you get a great notion. As for the rest of the arrangements: We will all sign a new peace treaty, this time on Crimsole. All our previous privileges and perquisites will be restored, and we may add some new ones. And we will be friends again.”

“That’s fine with me,” Dramocles said. “I was never angry at anyone. But John–”

“The Count did have some different ideas,” Anne said. “But he changed his mind when I pointed out some of the facts of life.”

“Such as?”

“You are the only possible candidate for the throne. The Glormish would never accept John, and it would be expensive and unworkable to attempt to rule them by force. But we also can’t let Haldemar take over your planet. He would be a threat to us all. From a purely selfish point of view, the best we can do is return to the old status quo, or as near to it as we can get.”

“What did Haldemar say about all this?”

“He was difficult, as you might expect. He really had his heart set on sacking Glorm. He was quite blustery and sarcastic for a while, until I reminded him of his position.”

“What position is that?”

“A delicate one. The fleets of Crimsole, Druth, and Glorm are intact and eager to fight the ancestral enemy. We vastly outgun him. He saw reason at last, and departed for Vanir, an unpleasant man whom I hope not to see again. Dramocles, we’ve heard a strange rumor about your father, Otho, being mixed up in all this. Surely that’s not possible?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we get together in Crimsole,” Dramocles said. “Have you spoken with Rufus? Has he accepted the terms?”

“Rufus is quite irritated with you, Dramocles, and with Drusilla as well. But I imagine he’ll get over it. Yes, he has accepted the terms.”

“And Snint? And poor Adalbert?”

“Snint went home to Lekk some time ago. He took Adalbert with him.”

“Well, that seems to account for everybody,” Dramocles said.

“What about your wife, Lyrae?”

“Damnation! I’d forgotten all about her! I suppose she’s around here somewhere. Or do you know something I don’t know?”

“It is droll that I should have to tell you the happenings of your own court, Dramocles. Your wife was unhappy, though I’m sure that’s news to you. You never paid any attention to her after the first few weeks of marriage. She was lonely, poor thing, and what was a pretty, empty-headed girl like that to do? She met someone during the recent ill-fated peace celebration on Glorm, a stranger from another planet. Although they exchanged only brief words, a look did pass between them, and that look told all. After the stranger left, Lyrae fell into a deepening depression. At last she pulled herself together and decided to dare everything and go to her man. The problem was, how to get there. But she had the help of Fufnir, the Demon Dwarf, who had left Vitello and was searching for a place in the history of civilization. Fufnir gave her a large ornamental box equipped with all the necessary life-maintenance equipment. He had it gift-wrapped with Lyrae inside, and shipped off-planet to the man of her choice.”

“Lyrae shipped herself to another planet in a box?” Dramocles asked wonderingly.

“That’s exactly what she did.”

“And who was the lucky recipient?”

“I’m really surprised you haven’t heard,” Anne said. “Wait a minute, Dramocles, I’ve just gotten an urgent call on my red telephone.”

There was silence for a minute, then Anne came back on the line. “That damnable Haldemar!” she said. “I thought he gave up his claims too easily!”

“What has he done?”

“Instead of going straight home, as he promised, he took his fleet to Aardvark. He overpowered your garrison without difficulty and has declared himself king.”

Dramocles thought about it. “We’ll just have to throw him out again. It’s no good having barbarians on two sides of us.”

“I agree. But it will have to wait. We have quite enough to straighten out between ourselves first. Dramocles, I’ll send you an invitation to the peace conference as soon as I’ve made the arrangements. And you will send your reparations payments without delay?”

“My check will be in the mail the day I get your bill. Give me a few weeks to raise taxes first, though. The Glormish won’t like it, but what the hell, they’re only people. So Lyrae’s left me! Just as well, under the circumstances. Where did she go?”

“Ah, yes,” Anne said, “it’s a most romantic tale. …”

47

After a hearty breakfast, Snint and Adalbert were ready to leave Snint’s farmhouse. But Lyrae, Snint’s new wife, stopped them at the door. “Hurry back, my dear,” she said. “I’m making pot roast and baked yams tonight, your favorites.” Snint grunted noncommittally, but you could see that he was pleased.

Just outside the doorway was the ornamental box in which Lyrae had been delivered. They walked past it, and beyond Snint’s fence, to a path through the woods, a path worn smooth by untold generations of goats being herded this way by an equal number of generations of goatboys and goatgirls. Snint and Adalbert followed the path for over a mile. Then Snint turned at an old stone marker and led Adalbert to a little rise. Below them was a Lekkian farmhouse of pleasing proportions. There was a drying balcony on the second floor, and attached to the house was a stable for animals, and two sheds for storing carobs and grain. Surrounding the house were about seven hectares of tilled land, ready for planting. Spaced regularly through the fields were carob trees. Near the house there were lemon and olive trees, and a small field closely planted with almond trees.

“That’s it,” Snint said. “A gift from the Council of Lekk. For your lifetime only, however.”

Adalbert said, “It’s beautiful. I don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

“You lost your kingdom, got drunk, and felt sorry for yourself.”

“Well, I never had a chance to do anything else, did I?”

Snint raised both hands, palms upward, and shrugged in a typically Lekkian manner. “Who’s to say? Do you think you can manage here?”

“I’ll do all right,” Adalbert said. “I did some farming on Aardvark, you know.”

“You raised gritzels, as I recall. No market for fancy produce like that here. Tomatoes and cucumbers and eggplant are more like it.”

“I am very grateful,” Adalbert said. “Though I still hope someday to return to Aardvark.”

Snint gave him a pitying look. “Then you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“When Count John and Dramocles were parlaying, Haldemar took his fleet to Aardvark and seized power. You are now referred to as ‘The Young Pretender.’”

Adalbert considered it, then smiled. “I’ll probably make a better pretender than king. Snint, I am much obliged to you. Is there any other news of the war?”

“The important war–the one on Lekk–is over. As for the rest of it, news travels slowly to these parts, but the ending can be anticipated. Since we’ve seen no sign of atomic conflagration in the sky, we can assume that they’ve patched matters up between them and resumed their daily life of boredom and intrigue. Family quarrels and quarrels between families–that’s what history is made of. We Lekkians don’t care to make history. Now I must get home. Go look at your new house.”

Snint turned and started back. Adalbert called after him, “What is Lyrae doing at your house?”

“Oh, there’s a story connected to that,” Snint said, “but it will have to wait for another time.” He continued down the path toward his home, a solid, unflappable man, a really nice character to work with. As he walked, he hummed an old folk song inherited from his ancestors. It went:

No fa sol up in the sky

Mal temps coming by and by

Aye, kerai! Aye, kerai!

That’s a Lekkian lullaby.

Epilogue: The Final Clue

Two years later, the rulers of the Local System decided to forget old rancors, bury the hatchet, and attempt once again to live in peace, mutual trust, and good fellowship. To commemorate this decision, they planned a splendid festival that they called the Reconciliation Ball. It was to be held on Edelweiss, a privately owned asteroid used for weddings, bar mitzvahs, and military reunions. By choosing neutral ground, the rulers hoped to avoid the misunderstandings that had marred a similar celebration in the past.

Preparations for the great event were lavish. Carefully selected victuallers sent out shiploads of specialties from all the culinary regions of the Local System. The selection included ginger beef from Glorm’s Saddleback Archipelago, sweet and sour dumplings sprinkled with hot sesame oil from Crimsole’s Great Northern Plains, and the unforgettable tiny clams in black bean sauce known only to the moist Delta Region of Further Lekk. Security was ensured by the presence of an equal number of heavily armed spaceships from each of the planets. These ships were to circle the asteroid constantly, each keeping a close watch on all the others. The ball was scheduled to continue as long as anyone cared to stay; there was to be no petty economy on an occasion as important as this one.

When the great day came, Rufus and Drusilla were among the first to arrive. They had been married soon after the end of the war, in a special ceremony which omitted the usual promise to love, honor, and obey. As members of high nobility, that sort of bourgeois pledge was beneath their dignity. Instead, they agreed to “not withhold such love, affection, fondness, et cetera as they might happen to feel for each other from time to time” and “to cooperate wholeheartedly with each other if, as, and when they chose, but not otherwise.” It is a tribute to their characters that Rufus and Drusilla were happy and loving despite having the legal right to not be so.