Read A Planned Improvisation Online

Authors: Jonathan Edward Feinstein

Tags: #Science Fiction/Fantasy

A Planned Improvisation (10 page)

“We can discuss the Premm and their repressive policies later,” Park shoved that aside. “Might these Premm-allied outsiders have ships that can change shape?”

“Change shape?” Rebbert asked. “Do you mean do they have, say, folding wings or ones that can move to be more efficient during atmospheric flight.”

“No,” Park shook his head. “The ship we encountered was sort of triangular in shape when we first saw it and matte black, but it sprouted shiny silver wings with weapons arrays on them as we drew closer.”

“You really saw that?” Rebbert asked, disturbed. “It didn’t just seem like that as you got a closer look?”

“We really saw it and you can see our visual logs for yourself,” Park assured him.

“There is nothing like that in the Alliance,” Rebbert told him seriously.

“Maybe some top secret experiment?” Park suggested as others had.

“No,” Rebbert shook his head. “I would have heard. If you really saw that, it’s a ship from outside and if it’s from outside it almost has to be those mysterious allies of the Premm.”

Park frowned. “Am I missing a logical step here?” he asked. “I like to wrap all my enemies into one neat package too, but what makes you think this ship belongs to the outsiders the Premm are dealing with?”

“How many outsider incursions do you think the Alliance experiences?” Rebbert countered.

“I honestly don’t know,” Park told him, “and neither do the other Alliance people currently on Earth, you being the possible exception. What makes you so certain that ship was from the Premm outsiders? Where’s your proof?”

“Proof?” Rebbert smiled. “Nothing a logician would accept, but there are only three other outsider nations we’re having trouble with lately. One is staying on their own side of the boundary and only attacking our ships when they stray into the demilitarized zone between us. The other two are sending their state-sponsored pirates across the zone to raid our ships and worlds.”

“Privateers,” Park corrected him automatically. “If they are state-sponsored they are privateers.”

“They call themselves that,” Rebbert replied cooly.

“It’s a matter of what your relationship to them is,” Arn cut in. “Their pirates, our privateers. Other than that, there’s not a lot of difference is you ask me.”

“As I recall,” Park pointed out, “we’re being called Pirates too.”

“A problem with our translation programs,” Rebbert explained. “You’re Pirates; the word used as a proper noun. It’s your name and the pronunciation is different. They’re pirates, a common noun. The word forms look completely different when written down. It’s only when your torcs translate it into your language that there is a confusion.”

“That can’t be true of all Alliance languages,” Park commented.

“No, but it is of Standard Interplanetary,” Rebbert explained.

“It still means the same thing,” Arn added, “but we’re getting off topic. I take it that what you are trying to say is that those three are well known and have never exhibited the sort of technology the mystery ship represents?”

“That’s correct,” Rebbert replied. “In fact those three nations’ technologies are somewhat backward compared to that of the Alliance. If they were not so far from the center of the Alliance I doubt they would be able to cause us any trouble. The outsiders the Premm are dealing with are unknowns and the most likely candidates for an attack, especially this deep inside Alliance Space.”

“Unless there are some other unknown outsiders with fantastic technology,” Park added. “That could be the case you know.”

“It is possible,” Rebbert finally allowed, “but why would they have an interest in attacking anyone inside Sol System? We know the Premm would do so if they thought they could get away with it and they might have an ally do it for them, but who are you to invite attack from any other part of outsider space?”

“Also the attack immediately followed our first successful test of the star drive,” Arn pointed out.”

“What?” Rebbert asked. “You actually built your own interstellar ship?”

“That’s our next step,” Park replied. “Ronnie Sheetz is at the Questo shipyard fitting a ship with the new drive. So far all we did was to build a probe with a star drive and send it on the short trip through the outer system. Right after we recovered the probe, though, we picked up a distress signal from a base on one of the Neptunian moons.” He went onto describe the abandoned base and subsequent encounter.”

“And you still think that wasn’t one of the Premm’s allies?” Rebbert asked. “It should be obvious you were being watched. They’ve been worried you might finally develop a star drive and that was their first attempt to snuff it out.”

“Too late,” Park told him with a grin. “We have it now and should be able to travel beyond this system soon, possibly within the month.”

Rebbert did not return the grin. “This is a very dangerous time for you to have made that break-through. The Premm are already gaining a following within the Diet with their warnings about you Pirates and what they see as the abominations that live on Earth. They would use this development to scare still more into their faction.”

“Then they will,” Arn shot back. “You told us years ago the Premm want to sterilize the Earth in atomic flames. Sooner or later we’re going to have to face them head on. It may as well be now or at least as soon as we can.”

“Besides, if you’re right,” Park told Rebbert, “They already know we have a star drive.”

“There is that,” Rebbert admitted.

“And once we can represent ourselves in the Diet, the Premm will not be able to portray us as some faceless bogiemen,” Park continued. “It’s easy to conjure up scare images about someone you’ve never met, you know, but once we show that we’re just people, same as anyone else, the Premm are going to have to come up with some other argument besides the fact we can’t be expected to behave in a civilized manner.”

“The Premm are not just a group of planets, Park,” Rebbert reminded him. “They are a religion and religious beliefs are not always logical or rational.”

“No, I suspect the Premm are never going to accept us,” Park agreed. “But not everyone in their current faction is Premm. Some are just siding with them for personal political gain. Discredit the Premm and they’ll slide over to side with someone else.”

“You’ve been studying the politics of the Diet?” Rebbert asked.

“I don’t have to,” Park laughed. “If there’s a one thing besides death and taxes that haven’t changed of the eons, it’s got to be the nature of politics. I saw enough of that back in the ancient past. The faces and issues may have changed, but I doubt much else has.”

“Perhaps I should study your ancient past,” Rebbert remarked.

“We had a saying that those who forget their past are doomed to repeat it,” Arn put in.

“Just so,” Rebbert nodded, “but actually that’s not really why I am here on Earth just now.”

“Timing is everything,” Park quipped. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“My son, Dannet, is getting married,” Rebbert announced.

“So I’ve heard,” Park replied. “Have you finally set the time and place?”

“I have,” Rebbert nodded. “Normally I might wait until Dannet could return to Dennsee, but his posting on Earth is too important, and it is time he got married, so I decided to bring his bride right here.”

“In this office?” Park asked with a grin. “Where is she now, on your ship?”

“No,” Rebbert shook his head. “I’m here to see to it that all is prepared for her arrival from Gallsee in one week’s time.”

“One week?” Park mused. “Well, Iris and I got married on shorter notice than that, but I would have thought she’d want more time to plan.”

“Melise of Gallsee will not have much to say about the ceremony or the setting,” Rebbert replied. “She doesn’t even know where or to whom she is getting married.”

“I know you Dennseeans and Gallseeans traditionally keep the bride in the dark as long as possible,” Park commented, “but doesn’t she even know where she is going at this late date?”

“No,” Rebbert shook his head. “Even that information is being kept from her. If she knew she was coming to Earth she could guess her husband-to-be was Dannet. There’s no one else of sufficiently high Dennseean or Galseean birth status likely to be here for her.”

“Assuming she has heard of Earth.”

“By now everyone in the Alliance has heard of Earth and her Pirates,” Rebbert replied.

“I’m not sure if that comforts me or bothers me,” Arn remarked.

“It’s a two-edged sword,” Park shot back. “Tell me, though, Lord Rebbert, does everyone on Dennsee get married in this manner, with the bride not knowing where or to whom?”

“Hardly,” Rebbert laughed. “Most used to a few centuries ago, but these days only the nobility observe the tradition faithfully. Others may arrange such marriages if they like, there is no law against it, but most do not.”

“How did such a tradition ever get started?” Arn asked.

“How does any tradition begin?” Rebbert retorted. “There are several explanations, but most of them come down to the legendary figure, Haromar of Dennsee, my somewhat distant ancestor. They also called him Haromar the Uniter, first Lord of Dennsee. Supposedly, while he was uniting the world, the daughter of one of his competing rulers caught his eye. Some of the stories say he kidnapped her, some that her bought her as though she were a slave, but most say she was part of a treaty between Haromar and her father. All of the stories, however, say that she was proud and willful and had refused all suiters, so she was blindfolded and bound and taken out of her father’s palace and forcibly wed to Haromar.”

“Not a particularly pleasant story,” Park noted. “Did Haromar survive his wedding night?”

“The legends are notoriously silent as to whether it was a happy marriage,” Rebbert grinned. “I suspect it may have worked out in the long run as Haromar had five sons by her and he is reputed to have been a good man.”

“Very few of our legendary heroes seem to have been wife-beaters,” Park pointed out.

“True,” Rebbert admitted, “and the story may be completely fictional. This did happen over a thousand years ago, if it happened at all. Some scholars claim this form of marriage dates back to before the founding of the first colony on Dennsee. I wouldn’t know. However, the families of noble rank still practice it. The husband knows who he will marry but in most cases will have never met her and the wife will have no clue. Still, I was exceedingly careful in choosing a bride for Dannet, just as my father was careful in choosing mine. While they have not seen each other in years, Dannet and Melise knew each other as children and were quite fond of one another. I think they will be a good match.

“In any case,” Rebbert went on, “Melise, the priest and her family and friends will be here in a week and there are a lot of preparations to be made.”

Four

 

Arn had long thought he was a confirmed bachelor, but Patricia Zinco had other ideas from nearly the time they had all woken up in the far future. It had taken her two years of patient coaxing, but Arn had finally married her. Now she was thrilled to help Lord Rebbert arrange for his son’s wedding.

“There are some lovely places up in the mountains,” Patty suggested soon after she and Rebbert started working together.

“No,” he shook his head, “I think the area around Van Winkle Town is quite nice and exotic enough for anyone.”

“Exotic?” Patty asked, looking around from on top of the hill where Park and Arn met most mornings over coffee. “This?”

“You have no idea,” Rebbert chuckled. “Do you think we could hold the ceremony up here on top of the base?”

“Everyone in town will want to be here,” Patty pointed out, “and probably quite a few from the Mer cities as well. I doubt we have enough room up here to fit them all. What about down there between the two rivers?” She pointed at the junction of the two streams that surrounded the Old Van Winkle Base. The Town had grown up, straddling one of them and many residents had boats to travel or just play on it during the wet season. “This is the dry season and the ground is quite firm. Many use it for picnics this time of year and it’s large enough, I should think, for several big tents.

“Tents?” Rebbert asked.

“Not all of us have chlorophyll in our skin,” Patty pointed out, indicating Rebbert’s bright green complexion. The ancestors of the people of Dennsee had been genetically altered to be able to use sunlight as most Earthly plants did. “The tents would provide shade for those who might get burned in the sun.”

“Obviously that’s never been a problem for me,” Rebbert admitted. “Visitors to Dennsee usually apply lotions that resist ultraviolet light if they are going to be outside for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“Sometimes we do too,” Patty agreed, “but we don’t gain energy from exposure to sunlight, we just get hot.
 
There aren’t any trees down there, so the tents will provide shade along the rivers.”

“All right,” Rebbert nodded, “Although the wedding ceremony itself is traditionally held directly under the sun.”

“That makes sense for your people,” Patty nodded, “although if you were to ask Iris, she would say standing beneath a canopy would be traditional. Others will tell you certain types of music or foods are traditional and, well, for each culture there are unique wedding customs. I understand the Mer get married waist-deep in the sea.”

“I don’t think Melise would enjoy that,” Rebbert smiled.

“She’s not Mer,” Patty pointed out. “so what sort of feast do you want to set for the party?”

Patty managed to organize dozens of people to prepare for the wedding and to get the word out across the planet, but some showed up without an explicit invitation. Two days before Melise’s arrival Okactack, the Atackack mystic, showed up at the town dock with two companions in a Mer-built boat that Marisea’s Father Taodore had given him.

Iris, on hearing of Tack’s arrival, rushed down to greet him. “I greet you too, Iris Fain,” Tack told her with a series of clicks and clacks. “You know my friends.”

Iris turned to the other two Atackack and recognized the Teller and the Warrior she and Park had met in southern Africa some years earlier. “I do,” she nodded. The Teller was wearing bright robes in the colors of the rainbow. Next to him, Tack’s brown mystic’s robes seemed quite dull. The warrior’s robes were dark gray, but he wore two wide, bright red sashes over either shoulder. It was the mark of his high rank and they had changed since Iris had seen him last. Later she learned he had been promoted to the equivalent of a general. “Welcome to Van Winkle Town.”

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