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Authors: Thomas DePrima

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BOOK: The Clones of Mawcett
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“That's wonderful. You promised to tell me about your secret life, your Highness.”
“It's really quite simple. As a possible successor to the throne, I'm not permitted to actively serve in the military, but, since I have two older brothers, my father allows me to captain a freighter. The press cooperates by keeping my secret and never publishes my picture, while I maintain a low profile by spending as little time as possible in the palace. Visitors don't really associate me with the Royal Family unless they see me walking around in my royal uniform or with the security detail. Now you know my horrible secret. I yearn for a life in space.”
“That's a yearning that I can both understand and appreciate, since I share it. You told the Major that I was soon to become a citizen of Nordakia. Why did you say that?”
The Prince looked surprised. “Aren't you? That's what I was told. Earth, Space Command, and the Galactic Alliance Council have all given their consent and approval for you to have dual citizenship. Much of the intensive training that you're undergoing is preparation for the citizenship ceremony.”
Now it was Jenetta's turn to look surprised. The information did finally explain the intense lessons in history, religion and protocol. They should not have been required as part of her participation in a medal award, no matter how ritualized the ceremony. From her first day at NHSA, Space Command had been directing her life without consulting her, but she had agreed to that when she applied for entrance to the Academy. They had the right to post her wherever they chose, assign her whatever duties they wished her to perform, and promote her or demote her as they deemed fit. But telling her that she should pledge allegiance to a foreign power was pushing her over a line she never thought she would cross.
“Apparently everyone knew except me, although I did begin to wonder how I could be an Azula and Lady of the Royal House without being a citizen.”
“The honor is only bestowed upon Nordakian citizens, and only serving Space Force officers, noncoms, or ratings can receive our Tawroole Medal.”
“I see. But even if I receive dual citizenship, I'll still be a Space Command officer, not a member of your Space Force.”
“But you're also to be commissioned in the Nordakian Space Force.”
“What? I can't. I'm a Space Command officer. I can't join another military organization.”
“Apparently the details have all been ironed out. You're to be commissioned as an officer in the Nordakian Space Force, on permanent loan to Space Command, where you are to be treated as a regular member of that service. But, you can demand assistance from any Nordakian military vessel, will have all the rights and privileges of any Space Force officer, and will have real authority over any Nordakian commercial vessel. Technically, you'll outrank me while I'm Captain Phuth Yuixotical.”
“Forgive me if I appear a bit flustered. I really didn't appreciate the full extent of the commitment that I'd be making by accepting the medal honor.”
“I thought that you would be pleased. A Nordakian Space Force commission can help you in your work.”
“My work?”
“In your position as an intelligence operative.”
“My what?”
“There's no need to hide it any longer, Captain. Our own intelligence section has concluded that's it's only possible answer for the things that they've learned about you, although Space Command Intelligence continues to deny it. Don't worry, I have the highest security clearance and I'll never reveal it to another soul outside of top military circles.”
“They've been investigating me?” Jenetta asked indignantly.
“It's standard procedure. It's all part of the process for you becoming a citizen and Space Force officer.”
Jenetta relaxed and nodded. “Yes, of course. I understand.”
“They were most baffled when one of our investigators reported that the real Jenetta Alicia Carver was dead, and even sent pictures of the plaque on the 'Wall of Honored Dead' at the Space Academy cemetery in Nebraska. But they concluded that it must have been arranged so you could go undercover at one time.”
“I've been meaning to get that WHD plaque taken down,” Jenetta said with a sardonic grin. “It's unsettling to have some people think that I'm deceased. That was put up back in 2256 following the explosion of the Hokyuu. When they missed finding my escape pod, they assumed that I'd been lost in the explosion.”
“I see. I'm sure that an intelligence officer will be stopping by to interview you before your commission is issued, so that any missing details can be filled in, or misconceptions corrected. For instance, they know that you captained the GSC Heavy Cruiser Song at the Battle for Higgins, and that you continued in that capacity for the past year. But since only GSC line officers holding the official rank of captain can hold such posts, they don't understand why your official designation is presently just Lieutenant Commander. They suspect that it has something to do with an upcoming mission.”
“I'll be as honest and forthright as my oath to Space Command allows.”
“I'm sure that you will. That's a lovely gown you have on, Captain. Except for your skin color, you look every bit a regular member of the court.”
“Thank you, your highness. My handmaidens have worked very hard to perfect my appearance.”
“Would you care to perambulate about the gardens with me? I'd love to hear more about your part in the Battle of Vuazlee and the Battle for Higgins.”
“I'm afraid that I can't walk very well in this gown and these shoes.”
“That's quite alright. I'm used to strolling with mother, and her gowns are the most restrictive in the palace.”
Jenetta smiled. “Your Highness, if you can stand the slow pace, I'd love to tour the palace gardens with you.”
The protocol tutor was kept waiting for more than two hours, but being the protocol tutor he knew better than to complain about the Prince taking Jenetta for a long walk in the gardens. Jenetta enjoyed the tour and was happy that she finally had a chance to clear up some of the myths that the Prince had built up in his mind, but he continued to call her Captain Carver, even after finally acknowledging that she was, in fact, just a Lieutenant Commander in Space Command.
The protocol tutor had responsibility for instructing Jenetta in the role she must play when receiving the Tawroole medal, so he tried to make up for lost time by remaining until the religious scholar arrived, who then kept Jenetta busy until dinnertime. She was extremely relieved when her lessons were over for the day. Dinner arrived shortly after the religious scholar left and the three handmaidens quickly prepared the small table in the sitting room for Jenetta's meal. She again invited them to dine with her but Vronnesa told her that they had eaten while the tutor was working with her. As before, they surrounded her, watching her eat and catering to her every need. They then took turns reading to her from Nordakian poetry books until bedtime.
As the handmaidens prepared Jenetta for bed, Tkusa opened the closet to hang up her gown. Spotting other garments in the closet, Jenetta hurried over and flung open the doors. At least two dozen magnificent gowns, hung from the clothes bar.
“Where did these come from?” Jenetta asked.
“The palace dressmakers delivered them today while you were walking with the Prince,” Znanna said. “They also brought shoes, undergarments, and accessories.”
Opening another door, Tkusa showed Jenetta a rack full of shoes. Jenetta noted that not a single pair had heels less than thirteen-centimeter high. That was entirely understandable, because if she wore shorter heels her hair would touch the ground, an unpardonable sin in this society. If her hair was then trimmed to accommodate lower heels, she wouldn't be able to wear the higher heels again, and she also knew the value that was placed on height in this society. She sighed and reminded herself once again that it was just temporary, and would all be over in less than a month.
During the next five days Jenetta spent her mornings and afternoons with the tutors, learning the things that she needed to know, both to become a Nordakian citizen and to attend the formal state dinners. When her tutors agreed that her knowledge was adequate, Jenetta was taken on a series of tours to prominent places of historical, cultural, or military significance. Each day presented many wonderful new opportunities to embarrass herself, but she managed to impress the ministers who accompanied her by not creating any awkward incidents.
One entire day was spent answering questions posed by a group of Intelligence officers who arrived early at Jenetta's suite and stayed until dinnertime. They were ultra polite, addressing her as My Lady the entire time, and Jenetta answered their questions as truthfully as she could. Space Command had given them a complete dossier and they spent the day probing details, as if trying to disprove the information.
Jenetta attended her first state dinner at the beginning of her third week on the planet. It was a formal affair being held to honor the planet's top agronomists, and Jenetta was finally introduced to the members of the Royal Family and the Royal Court. The protocol tutor had spent a significant amount of time preparing her for that moment and she didn't make a single solecism during the entire evening. The Queen sent for her the following morning.
Jenetta's handmaidens insured that Jenetta's appearance was impeccable for her private royal audience and then escorted her to the Queen's chambers where Jenetta was met by the Queen's private secretary. Jenetta stood where instructed to await the Queen's entrance, then bowed her head and performed the traditional salute with her hand when the Queen appeared.
“Good morning, my dear. You may raise your head.”
As Jenetta lifted her head, she saw that the Queen had adopted Jenetta's skin coloring. Although now in her middle-aged years, the queen was still as beautiful and vibrant as she must have been as a young woman. As with the three handmaidens, her lack of external ear parts was hidden by her hair, and with Jenetta's skin tone she looked very much like a Terran.
 “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
“Have you been enjoying your stay on Nordakia?”
“Very much. Nordakia is a beautiful planet; and much like Earth.”
“We've never been there, but we've seen images and there are many similarities. We believe that we have a greater proportion of land to water.”
“You do. Earth is almost seventy percent covered by water where Nordakia is only sixty percent covered.”
“Come sit with us and tell us about yourself.”
Jenetta followed the queen to a small alcove where a tea service waited on a table between two chairs. Although Jenetta preferred a good cup of Columbian, the strong, nutty flavored tea that the Nordakians enjoyed had begun to grow on her. As they walked, Jenetta had a chance to observe the Queen from behind, and saw that, as expected, her glistening ebony hair dragged ever so slightly on the floor, and her gown was even more restrictive than Jenetta's. The tiny steps gave her a regal look as she walked with her head perfectly erect and her back ramrod straight. Jenetta estimated her age to be about seventy, but she appeared the picture of health and fitness. Jenetta waited until the Queen had taken her seat and then sat also.
“You're quite lovely, my dear. Our son is quite taken with you.”
“Thank you, your majesty. Prince Chazurz is a credit to the Royal Family.”
“Yes, he is. And we have you to thank for saving his life.”
“I was only one of many aboard the Vordoth.”
“Yes, but you were the captain. It was your decision to rush to the aid of the convoy.”
“I'm glad that we were able to help. May I ask a question of your majesty?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“Am I being honored for helping Obotymot, or saving the prince?”
The Queen was quiet for a few seconds as she poured the tea. “The two are not mutually exclusive,” she finally said as she set the teapot down. “You actually performed several great services for Nordakia. You saved many lives aboard the three freighters, and many thousands of lives on Obotymot. We are naturally very grateful that our son was among them. The medal is being awarded for that service. You are as deserving of the Tawroole as anyone who has ever received it, if not more.”
BOOK: The Clones of Mawcett
4.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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