Chapter 6

I awoke in the morning soon after sunrise to a brilliant blue sky and the sounds of birds singing. Considering everything that had happened up to this point, I should have said that 'it figured' with a suitably sarcastic smirk. I should also have added that while such things can often be very enjoyable, they tend more often to be nauseating when taken beyond certain limits, and this situation skirted a line that I was in no mood to have crossed. In point of fact, there were probably two or three more equally insightful comments that I should have liked to have made while warming up to one of my better rants. In point of fact however, I voiced none of these caustic comments, for no better reason than the fact that there was no one there to make them to.

Having realized that I was going to have to make due with muttering these comments under my breath, and since I'm not one of those people who can laze around in bed when my internal clock has decided that I should be awake, I threw the covers back and set my feet onto the floor to begin the day. My first move was to more completely investigate the bathroom that I had been introduced to briefly the day before, and I was grateful again that upon further examination that everything looked pretty much the way that I thought it should. (I wasn't sure that I was in any way ready to deal with a magic toilet or some such nonsense.)

Isn’t it amazing that the most important things in life (like bathrooms) are the ones we take most for granted. I sometimes shudder to think that I might have lived in another age where indoor plumbing was primitive or worse, nonexistent. Of all of the progress that mankind would like to lay claim to, the advances in plumbing may be the least understood and under appreciated. Their impact on the health and well being of civilization as a whole should not be taken for granted, nor should the results of such improvements to the general aroma of the species be ignored. Oh sure, we're finding that many of the ancient civilizations of the world had some form of indoor plumbing, some of it long before we suspected. The impetus that created private facilities however is a modern one that should be celebrated regularly. For while civilizations like the Romans had baths that were great in their day, I'm not as big a fan as I probably should be about bathing in public. 

87

On the other hand, when the Roman Empire fell, so apparently did the art and necessity of the use of plumbing that they brought to their age. How many people were killed in the Middle Ages and the so called Renaissance from diseases that were caused or spread from a lack of proper sanitation systems and the unwillingness of people to bathe regularly in Western Europe? Is it merely coincidence that during this period of human history the Muslim world, masters of their age in the science and art of the movement of water, were the dominant civilization of the era. When the barbarian (and rather dirty) hordes of Europe again took precedence in the progress of mankind, our species seemed to take a big step backward. The Victorian Era in both the new and the old world wasn’t much better when it came to sanitation or hygiene; and suffered from a variety of physical and psychological ailments as a consequence. And while some form of cleanliness took precedence in the Far East, it was the exception rather than the rule in what passed for civilization around the world.

No, give me the modern era with hot water showers and flush toilets any day. In fact, I would have say that I've come to appreciate almost every technological advance in the art and science on behalf of cleanliness with the possible exception of the bidet. While the theory of such a device indeed intrigues me, my lack of experience with their reality makes me just a little bit leery about them. No offense to anyone who swears by this specialized bit of plumbing, but how good can it really be if the French are the only ones who have taken it to heart? (It’s not like they are known for being the cleanest people on the planet.)

88

These, and other equally inane considerations were what was running through my mind as water ran over my body in completing my normal morning rituals. There is probably no real reason to go into any detail in this area, so I won’t. They were pretty much what one would expect in the way of simple hygiene and manners that were taught to me long ago by my parents, though I must say that the razor gave me a bit of a scare when I first saw it. It was one of those ones with the replaceable double-edged blades and I hadn’t even seen one since I was a kid, and placing what seemed to me to be a largely unprotected cutting surface against my throat gave me pause to reconsider my earlier disparaging comments on facial hair. I used it without drawing blood however, and this minor accomplishment gave a much needed boost to my morale that allowed me to retain some shred of dignity where my appearance was concerned.

When I returned to the bedroom, my clothes from the previous day were laid out on the bed. I had seen no one actually do the placing, but assumed that there were some form or servants that took care of such things. I later learned later that this was in fact not the case, which gave me slight pause; but that fact really adds nothing to the story at this point. I had placed them in a wicker hamper next to the door as instructed by the sign on the back of that door when I had left the room for the library the previous day. Now they seemed not only clean, but also well pressed (which I have to tell you was more than a little uncomfortable where the underwear were concerned). This minor discomfort notwithstanding, I was grateful for the service. I quickly put aside any thoughts of inconvenient chafing and dressed quickly. I was about to step out of the room (though I had no idea where I was going to go) when there was a knock on the door.

“Are you decent?” a familiar sounding voice asked.

“Yes,” I said, as the door began to open. “Decent, kind, and stark-naked.” 

 89

Not particularly to my surprise, the door neither slowed nor hesitated one bit in its movement. It was Angela (whose voice I of course recognized), and she entered the room straight away without averting her eyes. I noticed that while she was still in a uniform, this one was of a soft gray color and looked a good deal less formal than the previous evening’s attire.

“Have you no sense of decency?” I feigned, quickly reaching for the towel on the bed and clutching it in front of my fully dressed form

"Certainly none where you're concerned sir,” came the smiling reply, “but if you are done playing foolish games this morning, you might want to get breakfast while you can.  Then maybe you can begin to make yourself useful around here. There is, after all, a good deal of work to be done.”

“Lead on my good lady,” I replied chastened, but not humbled. “Once more into the breach.”

We seemed to go down the same hall that we had come up to reach the room where the dinner had been held last night (not that I was sure of my way around yet), and I couldn’t help but notice that none of the paintings spoke to us as we passed them. Of course we weren’t speaking to them or even each other at the time. I wondered if tapestries, as well as paintings spoke? (I had seen some in the dining hall.) Maybe there were rules about this sort of thing that I had yet to fathom. Maybe these objects could only talk if someone were talking to or about them. Maybe only certain people could communicate with the Manor's decorations. Such a complete lack of understanding didn’t make it any of it all that much easier to deal with, but helped to kill the time in moving from point to point. I also took some comfort in the idea that there might be some rules somewhere about such things. With a little luck maybe I could get someone (perhaps even some female member of the military in particular) to take the time to explain these rules to me in great detail at some later date. Part of me yearned for a bit of enlightenment on this or any other subject; but most of me hoped that I could simply avoid dealing with it; as the explanation would probably be at least as confusing as dealing with the ignorance of its reality. 

90 

While considering all of this I had not really been paying attention to the route that we had followed, and discovered that in spite of my distraction, we had arrived. We entered a door that opened itself, and I couldn’t help but notice that again, some of the doors around here opened of their own accord, and others did not. Like the wall hanging thing, I was sure that there were probably rules about this; but was again faced with the fact that they were rules that I didn’t understand. So what! I was already so confused by my current situation that finding one or two more things of which I was ignorant made little difference. I refused however, to be baited into seeking additional information now that I was certain that I could not comprehend and would not be able to retain later.

Looking at it as we passed, I somehow realized that I had not been through this latest door before, and the room we entered now was a simple one. It was of medium size, set up with a big rectangular table with a number of chairs that I didn’t bother to count placed around it. It reminded me of nothing more or less than a typical conference room. There was a separate table against the wall opposite that from which were coming. From it, came a number of most enticing smells; particularly those of a beverage that had to be something like coffee, surrounded by a number of things that smelled like sausage, bacon, and pastries; all set up in a buffet similar to that of last night. I didn’t see eggs (which was no great loss as far as I was concerned), but there were substitutes for both pancakes and French toast that I discovered were as good as they appeared when covered with what was used for syrup. 

91 

Angela had passed by the table full of food and was talking to someone off on the other side of the room. I made my way through the buffet alone, piling a good bit of food on in the process. I am not normally a big breakfast eater, but last night had left me more than a little hungry, in spite of the late night snack that Angela had managed to obtain for me. Since I knew that I usually operated better when my stomach was full, I decided to take this opportunity to refuel for whatever might be coming. Taking my well-piled plate, I sat down at the most convenient empty seat (pretending not to be put out at being left alone) and began to do some serious damage to the plate in front of me. I can tend to be rather single minded when it comes to the process of eating, especially when not distracted by dining companions. With my head and attention down in my plate, I have to say that I never really noticed as other people began to assemble in the room.

When repletion began to replace hunger and I finally did begin to take notice of my surroundings, I discreetly began to categorize them as well. The mix of gender seemed mostly equal, though members of my own gender had a slight edge. A few them were in uniform, but most were not. A few of them were not eating (most of those being in uniform), but I couldn’t help but take note that the greater portion of them was partaking of the refreshments provided. As for those refreshments, the coffee-like drink tasted almost like a great New Orleans latte (without the foam), and I didn’t have to make much of an effort to make sure that my cup was refilled a couple of times by the quiet servers who were moving around the room (evidently there were no such things as magic refilling coffee cups) while I demolished the greater part of the meal that I had assembled. 

92 

Continuing my ruse of being completely oblivious to my surroundings during this consumptive process, I was not now entirely wrapped up in filling my pie hole. I quickly noticed out of the corner of my eye when everyone jumped to feet, and quickly did so as well. Phillip and Lorelei entered the room with no apparent fanfare, with Arturo behind these two by not more than a pace. Phillip acknowledged the respect being shown him with a quiet nod, and took the seat at the center of the table with Lorelei to his right while Arturo found a corner close by and lay down without a sound. (It finally occurred to me that Lorelei was Phillip's consort, though no one had taken the time to inform me of such things. I mentally reviewed everything that I had said and done in her company, deciding that none of it could be considered a impolite, inconsiderate, or of a treasonable nature in any way; and breathed a sigh of relief.) I also thanked goodness for having taken a seat half way between that middle seat and one on the end, on the opposite or back side of the table away from the door. This unconscious decision on my part kept me fairly far away from the center of attention. The seat to my immediate right was empty at first, but Angela slid next to me as the last of the group seated themselves. I looked around for my friend from last night, Randall, but he was nowhere to be found. 'Interesting,' I thought.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you all for coming,” Phillip began, with no preliminaries. “I think that we all realize that we have a difficult task and some equally difficult days ahead of us. We will need your help, patience, sweat, and maybe even a bit of blood before this is all over, but this is something at which we dare not fail for the sake of our people. I know that we don’t need to go into detail on all of this, but before we continue and for sake of those who have only recently joined us, let’s review the situation as it now stands. My father Simon passed away almost three months ago. Now, the mandated mourning period is about to pass, and as you all know, a new king must take his place. Randall, my father’s brother, would like his own son Christy on the throne.”

 93

I guessed that would explain why he hadn’t been invited to the party this morning.

“As you know, my cousin Christy is an idiot, a wastrel, a thief, and a scoundrel. In fact, one might safely say that Christy can only add to a room by leaving it (this with a smile). While the fact that he is being placed in line for the succession to the throne is unusual, it has never the less happened. We must now do everything we can to prevent him from gaining the power of that throne.

Many of us have already begun doing what could be done these past three months to begin the process to prevent his ascension, but now this effort begins in earnest. At our very moment of need however, we have additional help in our cause. Sean of America, an expert in this sort of thing in his own land (uh oh), has joined us in this endeavor. Please stand up Sean (I began to get a sinking feeling, but I rose from my chair none the less.) On the basis of excellent recommendation (uh oh again), Sean is thereby appointed as leader of this effort. Sean will wield the power in this matter to decide in all matters in my name. Lorelei and I have complete confidence in his judgment, and as such, I do not expect to have anyone coming to either of us to second-guess him. As you know, the formal period of the campaign will begin tomorrow. We therefore have ninety days before us to do what must be done. I'm sure that Sean will want to talk to many of you later, but you all must have duties to attend to now; so good luck to all of us.”

As he sat down, the group started to rise from the table with a rousing cheer of ‘God Save The King!’ and with no further comment, leave the room. As for me, I couldn’t move a muscle. To say that I felt gut shot for the second time in as many days would be an understatement. This was perfect, I thought! I don’t know where in the heck I am, or what I am doing; so naturally they want to put me in charge of a bunch of people who don’t know me from Adam. (This was some twisted corollary of 'the Peter Principle' on steroids, I felt sure.) And I couldn't help think that all of them now undoubtedly hated my guts even before they cleared the doorway.

94

It seemed as though I could feel air of resentment rising around me (or maybe it was just a stray piece of pancake attempting to move in the wrong direction in my throat). Thinking that I needed to do something (like leave the room and run for the hills) I finally started to get up out of the chair in a rather stunned fashion when Angela pulled me back down. Neither Phillip nor Lorelei had gotten up from the table, so I slumped back down like the condemned man, who upon completing a meal, finds that he has in fact eaten his last one. A combination of cowardice and terror kept me from raising my eyes as the door closed itself behind the last one out.

“Sorry about that Sean,” he said, “but I’m not really sure of who I can trust outside of this room these days. I needed to do this in just this way to see how the rest would react, and I need to establish your authority as quickly as possible.”

“Phillip, you don’t even know me,” I replied finally raising my head, and with I am sorry to say a touch of whining to my voice. “We met for the first time yesterday and then only briefly. As I remember it, the experience ended with me passing out cold from shock. This is not normally considered the type of behavior looked for in the resume of a leader, at least where I come from. I don’t really know what’s going on here except what I've learned from your all to brief explanation a minute ago, which means I know next to nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, you seem like a really nice guy and everything, and you have my sympathies on the passing of your father. I'm sure that you will probably make a great king and I wish you all the luck in the world, but I wouldn't know the first thing about how to help you become one. I also think that it would be foolish on your part to place the fate of your subjects in the hands of someone so unfamiliar with this place, and even more foolish on mine to accept such responsibility in light of my own ignorance. It's not fair to them, nor is it to me.” 

95 

“Perhaps you’re right,” he sighed, sinking slightly in his chair. “I knew it was a mad hope in the first place. Maybe I was just hoping that he knew what he was talking about when he sent you to us. Maybe my own deficiencies blinded me to any of those around me. Maybe what we hope to do here can’t be done after all. Some feeling I have inside of me however tells me that if you can’t do it, it can't and won’t be done.”

Funny how nobody ever seemed to call my despicable little British buddy by name, was the first thing that popped into my head. Come to think of it, I can’t say that I have ever heard his name mentioned in all the time that I have known him. Maybe it’s such a silly name that everyone avoids using it out of embarrassment. Maybe he doesn’t tell anybody what it is because he doesn't know it either or is ashamed of it. Maybe he doesn’t even have one.

The silence dragged on, as Phillip continued to hold a rather dejected posture; looking pale and perhaps even leaning a bit towards Lorelei in a subconscious bid for moral support. As for my neighbor, Angela seemed to be leaning decidedly away from me; her silence an accusation and her posture as stinging a rebuke as any I had ever witnessed. I felt like a ’Class A’ bastard.

Now anyone who knows anything about motivating people knows that there are two simple ways to motivate them. The first is by the offer of a reward generous enough to encourage loyalty on at least a temporary basis. The second involves appealing to the conscience that most of us have through the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) application of guilt to a person's better instincts. In spite of being 'negative motivational tool', guilt can indeed be a powerful motivator on a man (ask any woman or small child who has ever used it to get their own way). Using its application in the presence of member of the opposite sex as a inconspicuous challenge to manhood can make it particularly effective. There was little doubt that it was not only being applied expertly in this particular case, but that it was proving effective.

96

“OK, I’m in,” I sighed reluctantly. “But only if somebody would please explain to me what the hell this is all about?”

What it was all about, as it turned out, was the way that the Macundans (so they were called) replaced a king when one had passed away, and this is how they explained it to me…

For as long as anybody had remembered, Macundo had had the same royal family from which to draw its kings from. During that same period, each of these kings had managed to produce two sons and two sons only.

Don’t expect me to be able to explain how that worked. I was probably as disbelieving of the whole thing as you are. This was however, a place where clothes cleaned themselves, certain doors opened and closed themselves, and pull chains and paintings talked (and that having been discovered in less than a day). Why shouldn't there be some unseen force that permits a sovereign only two male heirs?

For most of the country’s history, as the painting had pointed out in part to Lorelei and I on my first evening, the two brothers vying for the throne would assemble armies of followers upon the death of their father the king. Those armies would then face off at an agreed upon time and place, and fight a single pitched battle to decide which of them would take his father’s place as the nation’s ruler. The winner of this engagement then assumed the throne for the duration of his life. The process would then repeat itself in turn with that man’s heirs. The loser was not harmed in any way, and in fact became the ‘Grand Duke’ of Macundo, a ceremonial title with an allowance, but no rights of succession that made the job of Vice-President of the United States look like an important and useful position. 

97 

The system had worked out well enough over time, and picking a ruler had been managed successfully over the years; but this somewhat barbaric process had over the years managed to kill off a fair number of rather valuable citizens. After the battle in which Phillip’s great-grandfather took the throne (again going back to the conversation with the talking painting), it was decided that a simpler, better, and hopefully non-violent method for the selection of future monarchs was required.

After years of discussion, and with the general approval of the citizens of Macundo (who after all had a great deal more to gain by it), the revised process was put into place with the death of that great-grandfather previously mentioned. Instead of making the choice by pitched battle, the choice between the two was to be made from that day forward by a process of acclimation. This was not to be a decision made by the previous king or their counselors, but by the people who the king was to rule, and whose blood would now no longer have to be spilled in the process.

Suffrage was universal for residents over the age of eighteen. The voting itself was done by means of a polling mechanism conducted in each of the cities, towns, and villages; and then announced to the people at large. The entire system seemed pretty straightforward and honest, but did have a rather strange twist to it. The electorate did not in fact vote for the person that they wanted to rule them, but rather against the person that they didn’t. 

98 

Oh, sure the whole thing sounds patently ridiculous at first glance, though as monarchies go, it might have something in its favor when compared to “the Divine Right of Kings” (or the divinity of the rulers themselves) from our own world's history. Considering some of the forms of government and methods of voting that have been tried over the centuries, I didn't find what could be considered a unique adaptation of the two-party system troubling, especially when its violent predecessor was considered as an alternative.

Governments had always seemed like a good idea gone gone terribly wrong in my mind anyway. They have been, like Civilization, considered to be one of those things that separates Man from the other animals (The truth of the matter is that animals are far too smart to put up with either one of these counter-productive, anti-survival bits of lunacy.) At their best, both civilization and government should be considered little more than societal affectations devised to protect Man from his most dangerous enemy ... himself. Like Civilization, Government is always most successful when it's least intrusive and restrictive. More often however, it becomes ineffectual in this primary mission. While always seeming to start out with the best of intentions, whether a monarchy, dictatorship, oligarchy, theocracy, republic, or democracy, it always seems to devolve into a self-perpetuating bureaucracy of useless drones accumulating and hoarding power over a populace that's either too ignorant or complacent to realize what's gong on. Regardless of form, it can't seem to keep from evolving into something nefarious and overreaching; managing to completely confuse and subdue the populace that it governs.

99

Take the United States of America in the early part of the 21^st Century. While as a form of government it's relatively young (just over 200 years old), it managed initially provide a very prosperous life for its citizens. (This prosperity of course, led to envy on the part of other peoples and governments, which soon developed into a considerable hatred on the world stage, but that’s another story.) As a consequence, those governed found in it an acceptable form of being governed (often called benign self-interest). Many of the inhabitants of the USA were therefore convinced that the American way of life should be a model of the human condition in general and the proper form of government in particular for darned near everyone. In self-righteous zealotry, the US therefore sought to encourage (or impose) this system on many others considered less fortunate; which in turn the increased the level hatred by those who wanted no help in creating governments (usually bad ones) of their own.

Of course they were both right and wrong, but not for the reasons that you might think. The truth of the matter is the USA was a suitable example of success for the rest of the world; mostly because of its citizens, who through a cultural streak of impenetrable independence chose to largely ignore the self-same government they had created. The beauty of the American system is in the fact that it is based on a morass of local, state, and national laws; most of which contradict each other as often and as completely as possible. While you might think that these contradictions would make the populace rise up in righteous outrage, in fact the confusion generated became perhaps the only protection left to citizens dealing with the natural encroachment of government. While a certain percentage of the population was kept generally docile (usually out of fear that they were violating one or more of these laws); enough stubborn perseverance remained to impede the gradual over-reaching that any government seeks to gain . 

100 

So ignorant were citizens under its rule that they often praised themselves for being ruled by a ‘true democracy’ without even realizing that they do not live in one. The representative republic that they have in fact been ruled by has no desire to correct this misconception or remove any part of the delusion that protects it from those governed, lest such inquiry lead to the ugly truth of its operation. In fact, it spends millions of dollars every year seeking to promote and enhance this confusion, providing regular inconsequential experiences designed to make the governed genuinely believe that they are participating in the process. These exercises in futility, more commonly known as elections, allow the populace to make absolutely no difference in their way of life, while preserving the illusion that they have some sense of control.

Elaborate and contradictory rules also guide the process to select people to do jobs that are completely misunderstood by a significant majority of those participating in the selection process. Even the media, whose function in all of this is supposedly to act as a watchdog, becomes a willing co-conspirator in disinformation and an accomplice to producing the smokescreen that elected leaders hide behind. Inviting fools who put themselves forward as experts and analysts (terms describing people who know a lot about nothing) to comment on the process as it is going on, creating an analysis paralysis on the greater part of the citizenry, while simultaneously berating those who refuse to participate in the fixed game

The results of this farcical process are then carefully tabulated, endlessly disputed, and eventually accepted (except in the case of certain presidential elections). The results never seem to change anything, but by the time that the dust settles the governed are so sick of the entire process that they are willing to accept whatever outcome is declared so long as it means that the whole thing is over for a while. The government goes on, unchanged in form and function, and the governed are allowed to go back to picking the next celebrity of the week. (If you understand any of the above explanation, please feel free to visit your local radio or TV station to put your name is as an analyst or expert.)

101

The truth of the matter is that all governments still tend to be for sale to the highest bidder in any of these systems, and a game most effectively played by the rich. In the end, somebody has to get screwed (and the general populace seems to fit the job description). The only way to limit the amount of damage that any government can do to the populace is to make it so cumbersome that it can do little of anything. This also restricts the amount of good that it can do, but since governments can rarely agree on anything that does any real good for those governed, this is more than a fair trade-off.

As far as my own limited participation in the voting process was concerned, I have far too often voted for 'the lesser of two evils' in an election (a shameful practice in which far too many of us participate). Voting against the greater evil of the two seemed neither more absurd nor more fraudulent than any other way of deciding who should get a chance to make one's life miserable on a day-to-day basis.

Sorry about the long digression, but governments are one of those things in life that really tend to annoy me.

Recent history seemed to be willing to concede that Macundo's revised system, with some minor modifications over time, seemed to have worked relatively well. Though there was a certain reticence to give up the violence of the past at first (even here Man has some rather violent predilections), they had over time created a system that seemed to work for them as well as any system worked for any people. Until now that is.

Phillip’s father Simon had assumed the title when the populace had rejected his brother Randall (easy to see why based on my first impression of the man). Simon had in turn married, and produced the two historically required sons. Everything seemed to be going according to plan when one of the sons had disappeared under rather mysterious circumstances. Phillip’s older brother Arturo was missing, and had been for some years. In the election that was now about to take place, Phillip should have been competing for the crown against this older brother, with the worst man to lose. With his brother missing (and I would assumed presumed dead by this point), he couldn’t compete for the throne per the time-honored tradition. 

102 

That uncontested situation didn’t seem to sit well with some of the population. Randall, rising up from years of impotence in the government, had stepped in again and demanded that his only son Christy be placed in the competition instead. It should have told someone that he was the wrong man for the job when he couldn’t produce the proper number of heirs; but I was quite frankly amazed, having met the man, that he could convince any woman to participate in the reproductive process once with him, let alone twice. Anyway, people being what they are when it comes to deciding anything really important (the greater percentage mostly unconcerned and the vocal minority aggressively ignorant), decided that it would be OK to do it this way as long as they could get on with the whole thing and get it over with. So there it was.

And so we come to the campaign and election process itself. To make matters more interesting for everyone, and so as to not drag the process out for an unseemly period of time, it had been determined somewhere during the origin of this process that this decision had to be made in the 90 days after the period of mourning for the dead king was over. That clock started ticking tomorrow. During this period, groups for the two candidates would spend this brief period making the other group’s candidate look as boring, dishonest, ignorant, and immoral as possible (taking those qualities in alphabetical order, but not limiting their number, scope, or depth). The people who did this work were known as a ‘Personal Attack Committee’ or a ‘PAC’ The name, and its similarity to politically active groups in my own time and place quietly amused me, both because of their similarities and the way that they appeared to operate. At least in this world however, they appeared to be honest about this purpose. I assumed that in this case, the name came from the bad old days of actual attack, but never asked. They were funded by the government in order to keep at least one part of the process ethical and went at it with a will. The mudslinging was done in a type of campaign that we would all be familiar with in the United States, though none of the candidates in our world would actually admit to any of this type of behavior. These activities would include things like: rallies, marches, posters, ads in mass media, public meetings, and speeches.

103 

Amazingly, none of this was ever actually done by the candidates themselves, for such ungentlemanly behavior might reflect poorly on a potential monarch, and cost them the office that they were seeking. In fact, the two candidates themselves usually went into a 90-day period of hiding so as not to commit any boring, ignorant, dishonest, or immoral acts that could be noticed and used against them during this period. (Would that we could our own political candidates to consider a similar practice.) Historically, these contests often got messy, even when the two brothers were good friends and not, as it was in this case, with cousins from two families that detested each other. The only good thing that could be said about the entire process was that it was brief and occurred infrequently, owing to a long life expectancy in the kings of Macundo.

When I asked whom I could use and to what extent in this effort, I was told that our PAC against Christy and Randall had been formed during the mourning period. As I and everyone else had seen in the meeting, I was to direct the efforts as best I could. As to whom else I could use, anyone was allowed to participate in a PAC, even the military (unlike the US). This was because here military positions were largely ceremonial, functioning in a world that had almost entirely managed to do away with war. The best and brightest of common society could and usually were singled out by military appointment. This would put them in a higher social standing to participate in advising the government without a title by birth. Everyone in this form of military was an officer, and the typical hierarchy of officers that I was familiar with held true here as well. There were no other soldiers to speak of in Macundo as they had no foreign enemies, and the last internal battle hadn’t been fought in anyone’s living memory. That was not to say that violence was still not a part of society, it was. The normal amount of mischief and mayhem, from bar fights to armed robbery and murder was a still very much a part of this culture; and was dealt with by a national constabulary. In addition, dueling was as popular in this world’s present as it once was in our past, with most of the same strict rules. 

104 

OK, that took care of the process, now how about a little information on Christy, and his scarecrow of a father. It appears that bad blood has or had been brewing since well before Randall’s loss to Phillip’s father in the election. Randall was the eldest, and had felt somehow that the title had been his right and due since soon after birth. The disappointment in his loss only added to the misery that was his normal state of existence. As for his appearance and demeanor, they seemed to be a merely a manifestation of his personality and propensities. In other words, Randall was even meaner and uglier than he looked like in person and was more than twice as devious. Added to this was fact that his entire life pissed him off..

The story was that the campaign that was run against Simon was a tale of a campaign as nasty and vicious as anyone had seen since these things had evolved. Beyond the usual name-calling and mild slander, Randall’s group had tried everything from fire bombing Simon’s PAC headquarters, to murdering several of his PAC workers, including the head of his PAC. When this last had happened, in fact, the bastards had even managed to see that Simon was accused of the crime and brought to trial. The true killers had never been discovered, and the case against Simon had been dropped from a lack of evidence; but it had forced Simon out of hiding to face an arrest and indictment for the crimes. The subsequent turmoil in Simon’s PAC during the trial had made the election much closer than it should have been considering his opponent. In the end, no one could really believe that Simon was guilty of anything, but the even with acquittal, the charge remained. Neither was anything proved against Randall, though many things pointed in his direction. He maintained an air of innocence and his alibi at the time was solid.

105

Randall’s current personal habits were less clear. He had no real standing in the current government, but lived on a government stipend since he was not allowed to hold any other position in government or business. He was often invited to state occasions like last night’s by Simon and most recently Phillip, as any close family member should be; though it could never have been said that he was particularly welcome. He was treated with politeness, but no real affection, and this appeared to have no effect on his willingness to attend. These state occasions were the only time he was normally seen in public, and he never missed one of them. He had a house and estate of some substance that the government provided about ten miles out on the other side of Macundo’s capital of Minica. Randall seemed to spend most of his days locked behind the walls of this property, and if he was guilty of any plots or plans against the government, it was not readily apparent.

His son Christy on the other hand, was seen quite frequently around town. He often toured the pubs and restaurants of Minica, and was well known there. Where Randall’s appearance was painfully thin, Christy was at the opposite end of the scale both literally and figuratively. His bouts of prodigious eating and drinking were something of a legend, though it did not appear that he shared his father’s metabolism. His size was formidable, and his manners marginal. He was often fond of stopping in a number of eating and drinking establishments in the same evening. He was also known to be a miserable customer to serve and a particularly poor tipper. (I had never met him, but didn’t like the bastard already!) Though also on a not ungenerous government stipend, Christy was rumored to be rather deeply in debt with some of the local shopkeepers and restaurateurs, and managed to keep his creditors at bay only through a combination of intimidation and perhaps even force.

“Where do you want to start Sean?” Phillip asked, when he had finished my short history lesson.

“I think, that if I can convince the lovely lady at my side to join me, that an evening on the town is called for.”

106

 

“I don’t think that pursuing some vain and impossible romantic interest in me is any …” came an indignant reply from my side.

“My good lady,” I interrupted. “As much enjoyment as I would hope to gain from any romantic pursuit of you, vain and impossible as it might seem, I assure you that this evening is strictly business. I need to get some kind of impression of the people of this place, and how they feel about Phillip and his cousin. With your help and a little luck, it's also my hope to run into our friend Christy. Since this is the last night before the campaign begins, and I assume that he will be going into hiding as you candidates do, this will probably be my last chance to get a read on this guy before he disappears.”

“Fine,” she said, and I knew that I was in trouble.

No woman in any world used the world ‘fine’ unless she meant exactly the opposite. I don’t know what I had done this time, but it was obvious that whatever it was, it was the wrong thing. I figured it was either disappointment in the unromantic nature of my response, or anger that I might have been attempting one. (See, I was right. My understanding of women will never rise above the level of rank amateur.) As for whether I was actually attempting to pursue some kind of romantic interest, quite frankly I hadn't a clue myself. 

107 

Oh sure the whole flirting thing had been kind of fun up until now, though I certainly hadn't taken or even had the time to decide whether there might be anything there or not. That this flirting had been going on with Angela almost since the moment I had met her is also true, but it had become so natural that it just seemed to have become the way that we spoke to each other. As you might have guessed from some of my previous statements, my luck with women was not all that I might have hoped it would be. I could tell myself that the job I had made it particularly difficult for such things to occur. I could say that the strange things that seemed to keep happening in my life preventing such situations from being any significant part of it. I could say that having reached a certain age that I was wary of forming attachments for fear of the pain, or because I was pretty set in my ways. All of this might even be true, at least on a subconscious level. The real reason probably fell into two parts:

1. I didn't (and don't) feel that I have anything about myself either physically or mentally that I feel is particularly attractive ... and
2. Even if I did have something that was attractive to a given woman about me, I doubt that I would be capable of recognizing the fact that someone was attracted to me unless they clubbed me over the head with the notion.

This was a very attractive women who could obviously have her pick of the litter around here. There was no reason for her therefore, to waste her time with the likes of me. I was therefore not surprised with the tone of her answer, even if it did bruise my already flagging ego.

“Since that is our goal, I will be pleased to join you this evening,” she said rather formally, having dialed the temperature down in the room considerably.

“Me too,” I heard from her feet, and noticed for the first time that Arturo had joined us from his corner. “I haven’t been out in ages.”

“Great,” I mumbled. “A night on the town with an irritable female soldier and a four-footed chaperon. Ow!” The punch that I received in the arm made me believe that I hadn’t mumbled low enough, and the barking laugh that followed convinced me.

.

Chapter 5

 

I was jolted awake (though gently) while still sitting in that chair sometime later by Lorelei, as she cleared her throat while standing quietly and politely beside the desk. Now some may wonder as to why, with all that was happening, I was asleep? The answer of course, was that I was asleep because I could be. The truth of the matter is that I have always had the ability to fall asleep wherever and whenever I get the chance. It's a talent that I picked up through years of travel, while working long and sometimes rather inconvenient hours. Like any other soldier, a road warrior must learn to eat and sleep whenever he or she can in order to survive. I can sleep sitting in airline terminals, on airplanes while flying, in cars (not when I’m driving, thank you), or just sitting at my desk.

They say that Thomas Edison used to catnap both in and underneath his roll top desk. It was this behavior they say, that allowed him to be such a productive an individual. Of course they also say that Edison was a ruthless and cantankerous old bastard, and occasionally a shameless crook who was perfectly willing to steal a good idea if he couldn't come up with one himself. I don’t know which if any of the stories are true or even why it should mean anything to anyone, but it's great trivia.

I find that in spite of the ease to which I manage to sleep in awkward positions and places, that the transition from sleeping to waking is never quite as easy, and this was no exception. In fact, you can usually count on me flying half way out of the chair that I'm in (with of course the exception of when I am wearing a seat belt) before recalling my surroundings and the situation and settling down. In this case, recalling my surroundings and situation caused me to fly out of the chair again, this time completely to my feet. Perhaps too polite to notice and unimpressed by the demonstration of my cat-like reflexes, agility, and leaping skills; Lorelei did her best to hide a smile while seeming to enjoy my frantic demonstrations. She did however allow me time to fully regain my composure before guiding me out of the library; and did so without the benefit of comment. 

71 

Parting with the library was bittersweet, as my need for restorative rest had overcome my desire to further explore the shelves in that room. Books have always fascinated me as I said, and as I hoped that I would be around the Manor House long enough to get a chance to return and delve into this room's secrets. What titles, familiar and otherwise, might I discover in my explorations, I wondered? What adventures in fact and fiction might lie at my very fingertips I were only to allow them to lead me on. What language would they be written in, and would I be capable of dissimulating or deciphering any of it? These idle speculations would have to await another opportunity however, as I was presently in no mood to even look at a book. Another of those Lorelei smiles (this one no doubt at my expense) had captured me, and the lady once again commanded my undivided attention as she led me from the room and down a hallway.

“Would you like to join everyone for a glass of wine before dinner?” she asked.

Now this was exactly what I was hoping for. A chance to spend some additional time in the company of a beautiful lady, and perhaps gain some insight into what the heck was going on around here. Besides that, I like wine. I know that you've already heard me say that I enjoy a beer now and again, but I don’t think that such an admission is necessarily incompatible with the concept that I might also enjoy of a good glass of wine. There are in fact, any number of ways to enjoy beverages both fermented and distilled varieties; and I have never restricted myself to one type in particular. 

72 

Wine has always been something rather special for me however, and something that I am seldom willing to pass up when the opportunity presents itself. I suppose that it's because like life, no matter how much you manage to learn about it, there's always something that comes along and surprises you. I had been attempting to build at least a small storehouse of knowledge of this time-honored beverage (and a similar storehouse of the beverage itself) during a number of years of travel and sampling. In doing so, I discovered that like so many of the paths that we follow, that it's not the destination but the journey that makes the effort worthwhile. Now please don't misunderstand. I cannot and do not consider myself anything of an expert on the subject by even after these efforts, but I have managed to acquire enough knowledge to know what I like and don't like in a wine; and the ability to communicate those desires in a way that allows me not to completely embarrass myself in public .

Having said all of this however, wine was not the only or even the primary reason that I eagerly accepted the invitation that was offered to me. The company of the lovely Lorelei would itself have been enticement enough (though I had no motives but the highest, and no illusions of my standing with this lovely lady), but the prospect of meeting ‘everyone’ made the offer of an adult beverage of any type quite probably necessary, if not absolutely essential, to my purposes in gaining some knowledge of the lay of the land.

I therefore followed docilely beside the lady down another corridor to what looked to me to be the lobby of a good hotel (minus the check-in desk). There were small groups of tables and chairs throughout the room, though none of them looked particularly comfortable. Truth be told, the people gathered in the room didn’t look any more comfortable than the furniture. The feeling again, was nothing that I could put my finger on, but was there nonetheless ... and I have learned to trust such things. They were all well dressed (Thank God for the clothing that I had been left.), and maybe on the verge of being overdressed to my eye. 

73

There were surprisingly few uniforms to my point of view (as I understood them at least); since I would have expected that when any group got together in the Manor House that the military would have made up the lion’s share of the guest list. In fact, a quick count in my head caused me to discover that those who were attired in uniform barely accounted for a quarter of the crowd. As for a description of the rest of the group gathered, women seemed to be the predominant gender at this gathering (though not by much), and most seemed in their adult years, without being old. While still being distracted by the lovely Lorelei, I couldn’t help but notice that most, if not all of the women present were extremely attractive. (Oh sure, the men were handsome too, but spending too much time with that thought did nothing for my self confidence.) The women were not dressed in an overly formal way (dresses, but not gowns), and it seemed that a number of those who were in uniform were in fact, women.

This discovery did not disappoint, shock, nor surprise me; as I have no problem with the concept of women in the military (equal opportunity, remember). I found their willingness to serve commendable, and their appearance in the uniform of this place quite lovely in a formal sort of way. The truth of the matter when considering the fairer gender for either government or military service is that women have often proven themselves as effective, if not more so than men in many situations; while being far less prone to testosterone judgments (for obvious reasons) . While history tells us far too little of that value in the past of our own world (after all, most of history has been written by men); that lack of documented record, along with many other things regarding women in general, is becoming more a matter of myth rather than genetics or fact. (It was the engaging personality, skill, and courage of Dolly Madison for example, that made the presidency of James Madison much of the success that it was; in spite of his being the 'Father of the Constitution'.) 

74 

I was attempting to take in all of this in at a glance as we entered the room, and found that I had immediately and unconsciously put up my guard. Please understand that doing so without knowing or understanding the customs and mores of society in this place, my first concern was in not in embarrassing myself, but in committing some breach in manners. Breaches of manners, when they occur in the presence of governments or royalty, have often led to such things as charges of treason, duels, and any number of other nasty things that have ended either a promising career or an equally promising life. As such, they are not to be taken lightly.

I need not have been concerned at my safety anyway, as Lorelei had taken over as my guide and protector as we made our way into the room. While briefly introduced to a few of them, I found myself able to stand in the midst of this gathering without too much immediate participation. I was handed a glass of something from a waiter, and was pleased that at least the type of glass looked familiar.

Wine glasses are mostly considered trivial things. They are assumed to be an affectation of something there merely to perform the job of any other type of glass in containing a liquid. Anyone who has spent any time in learning about wine however, can tell you how important that the proper glass is to the experience. I won’t bore you with the details of glassware at this point, but will not give up the right to do so at some future date. 

75 

I will tell you however, that the wine that I was served would have been considered nectar in a paper cup. It was pale green in color, which while not a color that is not generally associated with a wine as we know it, certainly did not detract significantly from the experience. While the color caught me by surprise at first, the bouquet was so lovely that I couldn’t resist a first sampling. Smell is an important part of the taste of wine, as most who enjoy it will tell you. Not only can the smell of a wine be pleasurable in and of itself, but the sense of smell also has a direct impact on the sense of taste. This is usually why the wine glass is so important. It's the shape of the glass that concentrates the aroma of the wine so as to allow you to enjoy the combination of sensory inputs. Sorry, I promised not to bore you with the details, didn’t I? This wine smelled of apples and honey (which tends to make it sound more like mead rather than wine), with something else that I never really did figure out. It was light and well balanced, and seemed to gently remind me that I would want something to eat soon (though not right away). It caught me off guard enough that I wasn’t really paying attention to the latest introduction or particular conversation that Lorelei had stopped the two of us to participate in, or the people that we were having it with.

“… And where exactly is America?” brought me startlingly back to my senses.

I knew that the question had been directed at me, but I needed an extra second or two to connect it to anything, let alone discover the source of the interrogatory. It was one of those lovely young ladies in uniform that I had noted earlier, who had asked the question. She was about 5’8” tall, with blond hair and eyes that stopped me in my tracks. To this day, if you asked me about the color of those eyes, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. They were one minute blue, and the next more gray, and they seemed to change from moment to moment with her mood. I found myself captured in them and wandering in thought. Why did this country have so many good-looking women, or did I just happen to be meeting the only ones that they had? Was all of this a distraction being used to set me up for the kill? Were my shoes shined?

76

It seems that well- shined shoes are critical whenever meeting women, especially ones that you want to impress. There are conflicting theories on the subject, one that has something to do with the concept that a man can show an image of neatness and honesty by having shined shoes. The other, equally ridiculous, states that in fact the whole thing has something to do with the fact that women like to buy and wear shoes so much that they tend to notice them not only on other women, but on men as well. Personally, I think that this may another of those unanswerable questions.

Proving how difficult it was for me to function in these kinds of situations (or that idiocy had long ago become second nature to me in the company of women), the reply of, “I wish that I knew,” seemed to fall as flat as the arches that these particular shoes were trying to support.

“He’s funny,” she said smiling, “I like him.” was what brought my attention fully and immediately into the moment. What is it about men that the smile of a woman, almost any woman, which when directed at them, can bring him fully and immediately into the moment? Is it a starving ego needing to be fed or one of nature's ways of insuring that the species doesn't die out? Is it nature or nurture that has caused such a simple thing to have a huge impact on our behavior? Maybe it doesn’t really matter, but if any government could discover and bottle it, they could rule the world. My father, always a man who charged straight ahead and ignored the whys and wherefores of a situation, settled the handling of such situations for me years ago by telling me that, “Son, if you can’t be amazing, at least be amusing.” OK Dad, that’s good enough for me even if I didn't understand what you are talking about most of the time. Lorelei gave me the hint of an ill-favored look as she waited for a further explanation; but I knew that I was blundering forward, confounded by my accidental success. 

77 

“No, I’m serious,” I continued, too disconcerted to speak anything but the truth. “I don’t really know where I am, except for the name of this place, and I may be wrong about even that. I assume that it's not part of my world, since nothing of what has happened to me since I got here happens anywhere in the world that I'm used to; but I could just as easily be wrong about that. While I'm certainly pleased to be in the company of you two lovely women (I told you I had manners.); such occurrences lead me to believe that I am just as likely dreaming as anything else. As a consequence, I find that I'm probably the most confused person here. So when I say that I really don’t know where America or the rest of my world is I'm not in fact being flip, but as forthcoming as I know how to be.”

“Curious,” was her only reply as she smiled again, this time doing so into her own glass of wine.

“Nonsense” Lorelei chimed in with a more full-throated laugh, “I know most of the people in this room; and I would be willing to place any bet that you care to that there are a great many people here more confused than you are. Their only advantage is that they are simply confused about different things than you are at present, are completely ignorant as to their confusion, and have the additional excuse of having been so for many years now.”

“Well Lorelei,” I replied with a slight bow and a grateful smile, “since you seem to be so sympathetic to my present state of befuddlement, perhaps you could start correcting it by introducing this rather attractive and interesting person to me.”

“She could, but she won’t,” came the reply. “Besides, I prefer to introduce myself, if that wouldn’t discomfit you further or be too intimidating for you. My name is Angela, and I am a major in His Majesty’s forces here in Macundo.”

78

There are rare times in any man's life when the Bard appears to be with him.(Or even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while. Take your pick.) This particular person intrigued me for reasons that I didn't fully understand. Impressing her with my wit seemed therefore be an admirable goal, in spite of the fact that I normally fail miserably in such attempts. Since 'fools rush in' and all of that however, “You, kind lady, could be nothing less than a major in any service,” was the reply that found coming out of my mouth, much to my surprise.

The curtsy and smile (again behind the glass) that I got in reply were well worth my accidental effort at gallantry (or cheap humor), and my dumb luck at having achieving it with a woman who would appreciate both the truth and irony of it without having it go to her head. Having for almost a minute succeeded in keeping this woman’s favor and attention, I was utterly convinced that my next utterance would completely undo everything up to that point, so I somehow managed to keep silent.

The entire situation could have become a serious communication problem, but was quickly resolved when Lorelei asked to be excused to her other duties as a hostess. (Hostess, that meant that she was someone or was with someone in the royal family. Oh boy, I hope that I hadn't done anything too stupid!) While certainly disappointed at her departure, I quickly realized that anyone who rated the title of hostess at a party like this was undoubtedly way out of my league on the social scale anyway. Besides, Angela was still at my side, did not appear to have any current interest in other company, and did not suffer at all in the comparison. (The truth of the matter was that, as I was to later discover, this hand-off had been planned by these two before the gathering had begun.)

79

As for me, if I might pause to wax a bit poetic over the subject at this point, is that it was like losing the sun, and keeping the moon. The light of the first was blinding and forever out of reach, though tempting nonetheless. The light of the other, while slightly less bright and more cool, was far easier to bear and more in some strange way, more comforting.. (Pretty over the top, huh?) Having basked in the light of both for a time, I found that the world around me was still illuminated in a way that I could perceive, but that I had been unaware of prior to that moment. Everything was in sharp focus, in a way that it may never have been before. The center of all of this illumination was Angela, and I couldn’t help but feel that she knew it. She saw it in my face, as I’m sure that she would see it in the face of every man around her. When she suddenly realized that I could see it too, a slight blush rose to her cheeks; and I knew that I had to be blushing furiously at the same time.

“Am I that bad?” I asked, hoping to break the spell of the moment, and hoping as well that my current state was not as obvious to the rest of the room.

“Well, I must say that I think that you’re doing remarkably well to this point, even if only half of what you’ve said is the truth. Yes,” she said more firmly, “I would have to say that you’re doing rather well considering that you just got here. I’m just trying to decide if it’s courage, intrepidity, or blind, stumbling ignorance.”

“Oh ignorance definitely,” I replied quickly, not knowing why and recognizing it was nothing but the truth based on what you already know about me. Quite frankly, I had been drowning in ignorance from the moment I had come to this place. I had refused to give in to self-pity however, and knew instinctively that this woman would have little or no sympathy for any display of it. My only recourse was to stand firm and not give ground to it, or to this woman. Her beauty not withstanding, it was increasingly important to me that I earn her respect, and I knew that I couldn’t do that if she perceived me as a coward or a fool.

80

“Oh I hardly think so,” she laughed. “An officer is required by nature and training to be able to be a good judge of people, and I'm a damn good officer. But let’s take a closer look at you and see what we have. I would put you at 6’1” or 6’2”, brown hair, blue eyes, and weight about 225 now. While it looks like you’ve been in better shape in your past, you don’t look very far out of shape even now. You have a good, honest face; but I have to say it’s a bit of a baby face, isn’t it? Have you ever considered growing a mustache or a beard?”

“I had one is school,” I replied smiling at her description, “but it always seemed like more work to keep it trimmed than it did to shave, so I abandoned the practice. I often let it all grow out when I go on holiday, if that’s any consolation to you; but it usually itches. The truth is that I find that the whole concept seems like some kind of affectation to me, and that decorating myself with facial hair is more embarrassing than flattering in spite of the fact that I think that I have the kind of face that might be better covered up in some fashion.”

“Ah, I see,” she continued, seeming to look at me as if she were evaluating this statement from a cadet standing at attention in formation. “Now we must add modesty to your list of character traits as well. All in all, you seem like you might be quite good material to work with. This could get quite interesting.”

I was sure that I was blushing furiously once again (as if you wouldn’t have been), but was saved from further comment or embarrassment by the announcement that dinner was served. Instead I offered Angela my arm, after watching many of the men around me do the same, and together we entered a separate, and more formal dining area. I was rather surprised to find that rather than the full formal affair that one might have expected under the circumstances, that this one had been set up with a buffet table along one wall. We took our place somewhere back in the line, and slowly made our way forward with the crowd. I know that I should have been doing something to engage my dining companion with something in the way of clever repartee, but I was suddenly at a loss for words and quite sure that anything that I would say would destroy the moment.

81

I contented myself with casually looking around the room to get the lay of the land, while stealing occasional glances at my beautiful companion. Angela seemed content to let the conversation lapse for a bit as well, smiling and nodding to people that she knew as we slowly moved forward towards the tables of food. In spite of the day’s confusion, I found that I was rather hungry. Looking back at the day’s earlier events, I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast (a meal that I had eaten in my own world). Now I was in a strange place full of complete strangers, and to top the whole thing off I was getting ready to choose from a buffet full of food that looked like nothing that I had ever seen before. I didn’t know whether I should risk embarrassment at my ignorance, gamble on potential adverse food reactions and face possible food poisoning, or simply settle for prospect of slow starvation.

My concern about what I might be capable or willing to eat was easily dispensed with by accepting Angela's help, and making sure that I only allowed myself small portions of things that I saw her serving herself. Before I knew it, I had filled my plate to an acceptable level, without appearing to be a glutton. There were a number of tables in the area that we were to dine in, all of which seated ten people, and I let Angela lead us in the direction of one. At some point, I noticed Phillip and Lorelei were were sitting together in another part of the room. I hadn’t even seen him enter the room, but the fact that Lorelei was his dining companion came as no real surprise to me, and explained a good deal about her prior knowledge of my arrival and situation. 

82 

The table that Angela chose for us was empty when we first approached, but we were not long left alone. Six of the other seats became occupied soon after I had seated both Angela and myself. I soon noticed that Angela had pulled her chair rather close to mine, and while at first it gave me a warm glow, it likewise put me further on my guard. Somehow I got a clear message that her proximity was a show of concern and attempt of protection, and not some girlish display regarding our blossoming friendship. The waiters had switched us to a wine with a lovely lilac shade and the flavor of a well-aged Cabernet, and I was busy making my way through a rather tasty meat-like substance whose only recognizable feature was that it was brown, when my attention was redirected.

“Haven’t seen you about before,” a voice sneered from Angela’s left.

Though no name was mentioned, my newly arrived state made me the obvious target of such a comment. Unsure of both my standing in the present situation, and that of my potential protagonist, I chose to tread carefully.

“No?” I replied simply, and looking over saw a man so a man so painfully thin as to appear almost two-dimensional. I couldn’t tell his exact weight, though early assumptions would have put it him in the 98 lb weakling category. Sitting down, his height was equally a mystery, but he appeared neither overly tall for short. In spite of knowing next to nothing about this person however, and based only on his appearance and the tone of his voice, I decided that I probably didn’t like him. 

83 

A lot of times people tell you to not be taken in by first impressions, but I have always found the opposite to be the case. Whether it's that the world has been wrong about this method of personality analysis all along, or it's a particular talent that I am gifted with I don’t know; but I do know going with my first impressions is usually my best move. At the very least, going with my first impression saves me the time of going for a second impression with a person that I know that I am eventually going to dislike. With this guy, a hundred impressions wouldn’t have changed my mind; as it seemed quite likely that this guy would have been listed in the local reference guide, cited as an example under the category of bad news.

Wearing a black suit, vest, shirt, and tie certainly didn’t help the image that his tone and manner had created. He reminded me of nothing more than one of those black painted wooden caricatures of a person that people occasionally lean against a tree in their yard for some reason that I had yet to fathom. Looking more closely at him now, I was also fascinated by the fact that while he appeared to be eating with gusto, he didn’t seem to be enjoying any part of the meal that he was partaking of. His wraith like appearance and the constant and frenetic movements that he made with his arms in feeding himself lent him an almost sinister appearance, like a spider spinning a web around a trapped fly. First impression now fully formed and fully established in my psyche, I rather liked the baiting answer that I had given by accident.

“No!” he repeated, his pique showing with the obvious color in his face.

“Well I expect that you'll be seeing me around, at least for a while. My name’s Sean by the way; and yours is?”

“Randall, Grand Duke Randall,” came a rather haughty reply through clenched teeth. “I am surprised that you did not know that!”

84

“Very glad to meet you sir,” I said with a cheerful smile, not admitting my actual ignorance to this fact beginning to enjoy this bit of play-acting. The man’s insufferable bad manners and boorishness could not easily be excused in spite of his apparent rank (and whatever it meant). I couldn’t help myself in continuing to challenge him, in spite of the fact that I appeared to be jousting with someone of noble lineage. “I don’t think that I said that I didn’t know your name sir. I only meant to properly introduce myself, as any gentleman of manners will do when he first meets another in any social situation.”

“I need no lesson in manners from you sir!” came the sharp retort.

“I certainly never meant to make it appear that I was giving one,” I replied. “I was merely attempting to answer your questions as directly and honestly as I am able. I'm not quite sure why such statements should seem cause offense. I am sorry however, if in making them, you found them or me in any way offensive.”

The color of his face continued to deepen, and I swear that he was on the verge of sputtering. The increasing volume of our conversation now seemed to be drawing some attention from some of the other tables in the room, and I noticed a combination of concern, anger, and amusement in some of the looks that I was now receiving. In spite of my early plans at a safe and conservative approach to this place, I was unaccountably enjoying the fact that I seemed to be getting to this character, whoever he was. His poor behavior seemed to draw a similar response from me, almost without thought. Regardless of the potential disaster that might lie before me, I wanted to continue this rather stimulating and challenging conversation when a sharp blow to my shin brought me up short. Swallowing my pain, along with whatever comment I hoped to make, I turned to Angela. 

85

“Would you care to take a walk Major Angela?” I asked, with a gritting of teeth that might at least pass for a smile. “I appear to have developed a rather severe cramp in my leg whose pain has quite caused me to lose my appetite. “ She nodded sweetly, and I rose to help Angela to her feet. “You will excuse me ladies and gentlemen,” I said bowing to my new friend (whose anger was hardly being mollified by my sudden departure) and the rest of the table, and limped out of the room and onto a terrace that Angela pointed to, with the lovely major gripping my arm in such a way as to make it almost as painful as my leg.

“You are a wonder!” she said breathlessly as we exited the room to a set of gardens. “I don’t know if you are incredibly stupid, foolishly brave, or working on some monstrously complex strategy that involves placing yourself in serious personal danger. I must say however, that you do take some chances.”

“Do I get to vote in this discussion of my virtues or flaws by any chance?” I asked, genuinely intrigued by what appeared to be a real concern for me.

“No, you do not! Don’t you know that Randall is not only the Grand Duke, but the Prince’s uncle, and that his son is the prince’s major rival for the throne?”

“No I didn't, not that I’m sure that it would have mattered to me. That guy has manners more suited to a stable hand than to royalty, makes me want to check to make sure that my wallet is still in my pocket (I did and it was by the way), and looks like something from cheap horror movie. Look,” I said, raising a hand to what would have undoubtedly been an addition to the lecture on my social gaff. “I have a sore leg, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I didn’t even get to finish that lovely glass of wine at dinner. Quite frankly, all of those things tend to leave me rather cranky. I’m sure that you have any number of things that you need to tell me about my lack of social graces, the humiliation that I have heaped upon myself, and the potential danger that I am now in; but could you do that in such a way so as to at least get me something to eat and another glass of that wine? ”  86

"Come one," she said laughing, Let's find you something to do with the hole in you face other than to get yourself in trouble.  When you've managed to stuff yourself sufficiently that some level of your good nature and wits return, we'll find your room and get you off to bed.  Tomorrow will be a busy day."

(I felt another blush coming into my face from that the last part of her comment brought to mind.  While I wasn't trying for one, I knew that there was likely a silly grin stretched across my face as well.)  "Madame," I rejoined, my mood improving immediately wit the potential of the prospects that awaited.  "Do you think it proper for an officer and a lady to be escorting a man to his room on the very first night they meet?"

"No I do not," she replied, "but I doubt that you have enough brains to find your way to your accommodations by yourself, even if this were a one bedroom home.  And I for one have no desire to have you wandering the halls all night, rattling around like a ghost and keeping both guests and staff awake with your continued lunatic behavior.  As for any other considerations, you have nothing at all to worry about sir.  Your honor will be safe enough with me tonight," she said with a smile returning to her face as well, as she escorted me back into the Manor House through a doorway different from the one that we had just left.

"I was afraid of that," I replied, continuing to grin foolishly for no reason that I could readily discern.

.