Elena may not have been a fan of politics but the way the Council Law book laid everything out in black and white detail was fascinating. She found herself drawn into the book and afternoon passed swiftly.
‘Council members are based on population,’ she mused. Not population of pilots but the general population of a home region. The book explained that it was felt if representation was based on the number of pilots a region had there might be some efforts to increase the number of pilots. ‘And that could lead to some nasty battles,’ she thought, summing up the large words into their basic concept. ‘And nasty battles get noticed.’ A discrete cough from the doorway startled her from her thoughts and she looked up.
“Dinner will be served shortly in the dining area Miss,” a short dark haired main wearing the staff uniform told her.
“Of course,” she said. He inclined his head, then turned and left. She ran a hand through her hair realizing that a night spent in a car followed by a day absently twisting stands while she read was not going to improve her looks. She wished she had time for a shower.
“Oh well, no help for it.” She said aloud. She uncurled her legs and stood up, only to realize her right leg had gone completely to sleep. “Oh hell,” she thought. She tapped her rubbery feeling foot on the floor, trying to regain feeling. After a few minutes she was rewarded with a pins and needles feeling. She tried not to look as though she were limping as she made her way out of the library and down the corridor. By the time she reached the dining area she felt she had the trick of it and tried to look nonchalant.
“Why are you limping?” She frowned at the question and looked over to Peter. The tone was demanding and she saw him shoot a questioning glance towards Alex.
“My leg fell asleep while I was reading,” she admitted. Did he really think Alex would do something to her? On a council ship? That was a chilling thought.
“Ah, I see,” he relaxed a bit and smiled.
“There you are,” her grandfather said coming up to her. “I’m sorry we were in meetings so long. I had hoped to spend time with you. Did you occupy yourself well?” She smiled at his phrasing.
“I occupied myself well, Grandfather,” she told him Peter snorted in amusement and walked away. “I did some reading in the library.” Her grandfather’s left eyebrow rose in question.
“I see, and did you learn anything of value?” He led her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her. Apparently dinner was not a buffet style meal. She sat in the offered chair while he took the seat next to her.
“I did learn some things of value,” she replied with a smile.
“Really? Anything you care to share?”
“Nothing you don’t already know.” She told him. She knew everyone at the table could guess that she had spent the afternoon looking up the details of her new status but she didn’t really want to discuss the details of other things she learned. Some of the information made her queasy. The fact that she now held the minimum requirements for a council member was not something that sat entirely comfortably with her. The discomfort was not due entirely to her dislike of politics.
When reading about how the council members were chosen one fact became glaringly obvious. There was no council member for North America. The entire western hemisphere was divided into regions and assigned to European, Asian and African regions. She looked over at her grandfather. He may have been her council chair but his base was in Milan. Old thoughts began to stir as everyone took their seats and the salad course was placed in front of them.
She picked up her fork and speared a roma tomato. She remembered the excitement before her parents death. Her mother had reached the council member status. As her mother’s family had gone to America under William Penn they wore officially classified as an American family with no possible doubt. For the first time the New World would have a council member solely looking out for their interests. Regional boundaries around the world would have been re-drawn. Power would have shifted. Three days later both Elena’s parents were dead, killed in a random accident.
Elena shifted her eyes around the table. She had been wrapped in her grief but remembered the fragments of suspicion that were never cleared away. How many of those at this table knew details of the accident? Did any of them have a part in it? And when they realized she could effectively take the place her mother would have taken, would she become a target?
She shook her head and took another bite of salad. The vinaigrette stung, the bite being more prevalent than the taste. Perhaps her disinterest in council politics was known well enough to help keep her safe.
“Something wrong?” Peter asked her. Once again he was seated across the table from her. She wondered if he was keeping an eye on her. With his reputation he could easily have a hand in her parent’s accident. He would have been in his late teens or early twenties at the time. She fought not to narrow her eyes in speculation.
“No not at all,” she replied. “I was just thinking how fresh the tomatoes are.” She speared another with her fork. “Usually at this time of year they all have that slight off taste that lets you know they have been shipped a long way.”
“Our chef keeps a hydroponics garden in one of the lower decks,” Peter replied. “This way we are always assured of the very freshest of vegetables.”
“I wouldn’t think you would spare space for a garden like that on such a ship,” she commented.
“”There are many more rooms than are needed,” her grandfather commented. “ It is best to make use of them for more practical purposes than simply lying empty.”
“I see,” Elena replied. She continued eating her salad. Small talk with the council was not one of the skill sets she had been trained to use. Mostly her ties to them would lay in common business interests. Business conversation at the dinner table was considered rude however. “Have you tried growing off world foods in the garden?” She asked. Elena figured it might edge into business a little but if she kept it grounded in the culinary it might pass.
“I don’t believe so,” Peter said. Her grandfather just shook his head.
“Too bad,” Elena said. “It would be nice to have fresh treel around.” The salad plates were whisked away and the entrée was placed in front of her. Roasted chicken stuffed with some sort of blue cheese mixture and placed on a bed of wild rice. A mound of creamy mashed potatoes and fresh green peas completed the plate. She inhaled deeply.
“Smells delicious,” she said. She took her first bite. It tasted just as good as it smelled.
“I’ve never had treel,” Peter commented. “Do you like it?” On her left her Alexandro laughed at the question.
“When she was eight she made herself sick on it. I’m impressed she could even stomach it after that.” Elena frowned at her grandfather for a moment, then laughed.
“For a few years after I couldn’t she admitted. “But a few every now and again are fine.”
“What do they taste like?” Peter asked.
“They have a sweetness like grapes but a bit of a tart taste to balance that out. I don’t know how else to explain them. I’m surprised you never had them. I thought every kid got a bag as a rule. Like strawberries or watermelon in the summertime.”
“Well we never dealt with the Varosh colonies so they weren’t really that common in our household.”
“I see.” Elena commented. The conversation ebbed and flowed around her. Occasionally she made a comment but for the most part simply listened and watched. It was with some surprise that she noticed Peter watching her throughout the meal. It wasn’t a leering look as if her were trying to figure out a way to get her naked. It was more calculating than predatory. It reminded her of the way a man might look at an expensive bottle of wine when he was trying to decide whether he wanted to sip the one glass he could afford of the expensive stuff or buy enough cheap wine to just get drunk. It was not exactly a comfortable look.
Elena also caught her grandfather watching Peter during the evening. He had what she liked to call his scheming look. It was a look that told her he might not like Peter’s interest in her but as he could do nothing about it, he would try to turn the situation to his advantage. Elena found she had a bit of a headache. It was with some relief that she greeted the desert course, dark chocolate mouse topped with raspberries.
With the desert course cleared away everyone stood and began filtering into a well appointed room fitted with large chairs similar to the ones in the library. Her grandfather led her into the room and to a chair. Various paintings, all on nautical themes decorated the walls. With a start Elena realized she was being allowed into one of the famous brandy hours. She smiled a little as she was passed a snifter. The last time she was around when the council had one of their brandy hours she had been deemed much too small for such an event and had been shooed off to bed by the housekeeper.
‘I would have been twelve at the time,’ she thought. With a start she realized that many of the current council members would not have been in power at that time. Only her Grandfather and Riko were of an age. She had not seen the council at that time, only moving shadows and low pitched voices. Elena glanced over at Riko.
It was hard to imagine her as anything other than council. Elena found she could easily see the older woman piloting her ship and acing as both pilot and captain but found it difficult to imagine her as serving under another captain. ‘Yet there was a time when she did,’ she thought. That was standard training. All pilots started out under a trained captain. But for Riko that time was long past, over before Elena was even born. Elena stopped trying to see the younger Riko as she realized the rules about not discussing business were relaxed after dinner.
‘They are still restrained,’ she thought as she listened. They were just talking general business not the specifics as she would have thought. She suspected her presence was the reason for the restraint. ‘Well, restraint in all but one,’ she realized. While Alex Barton had stayed far from her previously, now he took a seat nearby and while everyone else discussed general business, he dropped broad hints that invited her to inquire about council business. Absently she wondered if he thought she was that gullible.
His questions seemed very movie villain-esque and she thought the effect was slightly ruined since he didn’t have a moustache to twirl around his finger as he cackled. Not that he actually cackled, but there was a gleam of evil glee in his eyes that Elena did not care for. She had the impression that as soon as she asked what he was talking about he would deride her for her inappropriate curiosity. She sighed inwardly and ignored his comments as best she could. Others appeared to be doing the same.
Elena wondered if being able to pilot again was worth all of this nonsense. She thought about the way the ship felt under her control, the thrill of seeing the outline of the channel’s narrow passage in her mind and placing it over the image her eyes could see in the real world and guiding the ship safely through. The strength she could feel in her as she skillfully maneuvered her ship through the channel that no one else on board could even see and the trust of her crewmates believing she would not get them killed were some things she missed. But the sheer beauty and joy of seeing the ship slide from the oceans of this world and into the black of the deep space, with a thin ribbon of water drawn along beneath them and a little behind, drawn in to the vacuum and held in place as the moved, gliding through stars.
She thought of the fun of negotiating with races of people from planets in solar systems few on her planet would ever know existed and of the sheer adrenaline rush as one of the ships that preyed upon lone merchant vessels targeted them and she had to guide her ship around their traps, sometimes outsmarting them and sometimes just plain out running them.
'Yes,' she thought. 'It is worth dealing with them if I can get that back.'
“Elena?” Peter said and with a start she realized he had been talking to her. He had a bemused look on his face and she wondered what her face had shown as her thoughts drifted.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I must be more tired than I thought.” She set her still half full snifter on the occasional table next to her as Alex dropped yet another obvious hint. “I don’t suppose you would mind if I excuse myself a little early?” She asked. “I’m afraid I am not very lively company when I am this sleepy and it seems fairly obvious you have council business you wish to discuss.” She cast her eyes towards Alex as she stood up. She was pleased to note a light blush grace his cheeks. Several of the men stood as she excused herself. Elena turned from them and walked back into the dining area. As she stood staring at the purposefully moving staff she realized she had no clue where her room actually was. Luckily they did and one of them led her through a maze of corridors to her suite. She thanked him and entered the room prepared for her.
2 comments:
You definitely outdid Lee on the food - I am CRAVING mashed potatoes and gravy now. I'm curious as to exactly what kind of broad hints Alex was dropping...
with a thin ribbon of water drawn along beneath them and a little behind, drawn in to the vacuum and held in place as the moved, gliding through stars. ...place as the Ship moved? Richard
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