He Who Dares: Book Three (22 page)

BOOK: He Who Dares: Book Three
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“Hum, I just bet you are, my lad. Nice to see you again, Admiral.” He said in a soft voice as he leaned forward to shake hands.”

Admiral Rawlings did a double take. Unless Max Tregallion was getting senile, he knew for a fact he’d never met the old man, so why the
again
?

“And you must be Rolly Vargas, the admiral’s shadow.” He held his hand out and shook a bemused Rolly’s hand with a crushing grip before the admiral could say anything.

“Sit, sit, and have a drink.” He looked around, “Well, don’t just stand there, pour the admiral and Leftenant Vargas a drink, you lazy snot!” Max Tregallion’s manservant came over, and handed each a glass and poured some of the brandy. “Here’s to the King and His Majesty’s Royal Navy.” Max added as he raised his glass.

“The King and his Royal Navy.” The admiral responded. Rolly did the same, and took a tentative sip and almost choked. He recovered quickly, seeing the admiral take a hefty swig and not bat an eyelid. It wasn’t brandy as he expected, but a cool, flavorful drink from some unnamed fruit that just happened to look and smell like brandy.

“Excellent Brandy. A ’57 if I’m not mistaken.”

“It’s a ’54 actually. Bought this off a ship that landed on Avalon. Now what was her name… Oh yes, I remember. The
Hemlock
, wasn’t it?” He asked, looking around at his surly manservant.

“Yeah, that’s right. The
Hemlock
.” The man answered, rolling his eyes.

“The
Hemlock
?” Admiral Rawlings sat up a little, and looked at Max Tregallion, and his manservant. Were there two ships that just happened to be named
Hemlock
? Then something else clicked into place. Unless you had very special permission, no outside ship ever landed on Avalon. The closest they could get was Christchurch.

“An old tramp cargo ship was she?” He asked.

“Yes, she is. You know. One of those old ships that do the milk run out along the fringe of civilized space,” Max said, waving his glass around as if to encompass the whole universe.

“Yes, I’ve heard of her a couple of times. Do you know the name of her captain?” The admiral asked softly looking down as he swirled the drink around in his glass.

“Yes I do… let me think. The old gray matter’s getting a bit slow in my old age,” Max chuckled, tapping the side of his head with a forefinger.

“His name is Captain Bear, sir,” his servant interjected softly as if helping his master to remember.

“I knew that, you insolent sod. Do you think I’m getting senile or something?” He snapped, glaring at the man.

“No, sir. Just bloody cantankerous in your old age is all.” The man muttered loudly as he stepped back.

“I heard that!” Max growled. “Now, where was I…” He glared at his manservant, “Oh, yes. Captain Bear. Quite a charming fellow really. Very accommodating and all that. Handsome, intelligent, and a real ladies man from what I hear.”

“Har! In addition, not above tooting his own trumpet, I’ll wager,” the admiral snorted, “I also heard he was a bit too flamboyant for my liking, and likes to bend, or even break the rules on occasions. He also has little or no regard for authority!” The admiral grumbled. He cocked an eyebrow at
Max Tregallion
and tried to see through the camouflage to the young naval officer he knew.

It took a moment, but Rolly Vargas finally caught on at last, and quickly suppressed a smile as he buried his nose in his glass. Not having ever met the real Max Tregallion, he was betting that Mike’s imitation of him was spot on. The question was, why the subterfuge? Even being the admiral's flag officer, he didn’t know all the goings on. The last thing he’d heard was about the message drone on station waiting for Mike to reappear in Sol system and pick up the message about flowers. What the actual encoded massage was he didn’t know.

“Of course, you’ll stay for a late supper, Admiral. I insist on it, once we’ve got rid of the free loaders that is.” He said, waving his cane in the direction of the crowd outside the sitting room.

“Of, course, Mr. Tregallion, I’d love to.”
In addition to chewing your impudent young ass out when I get the chance
, was his afterthought. Nevertheless, he had to smile to himself. Mike had found the perfect way to obey both sets of orders. Stay out of Sol system as Captain Bear, and to report to him as soon as possible as Captain/Leftenant Gray. Just then they were interrupted, and Max struggled to his feet, and leaned heavily on his cane.

“Mr. Tregallion, I’d like you to meet the Lady Anne, and her escort, Lord Seaford, and the Lady Bridgett and her escort, Leftenant Michael Ross, Duke of Argyle and the Outer Islands.” The lady Anne didn’t look at all happy about being here, and he knew nothing about the temper tantrum she’d thrown when told she needed to be here.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

“What!”

“I said, you need to dress up as the Lady Anne and go to the party at the Free Traders Guild Hall.”

Princess Anastasia drew herself up and took a deep breath. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to parade around London in that ridiculous costume, father. It was bad enough having to go off planet dressed like that.” Her father sighed. King he might be with the power of life and death over the people in his kingdom, so to speak, but when it came to his daughter, like many fathers before him, he found his authority over his grown daughter somewhat limited.

“Anna! This is an official request from the Avalon Embassy, and a secondary request for you to go as ‘The Lady Anne’.”

“Requested by who… whom?” She corrected.

“I don’t know, but the unofficial word is that Max Tregallion will be there, the owner and ex-president of Avalon.”

“So, now I’m at the beck and call of some backwoods mucky muck… why can’t I go as the Princess Royal?” She stopped in mid sentence, her brow pulling down into a very unladylike frown. The Avalon Embassy shouldn’t have even known about her alter ego. The only person she knew from that planet was Mike. Could this request be somehow connected with him? The King also hated puzzles and intrigue at the best of times, but this request from the unofficial Avalon Embassy had him scratching his head.

“I don’t know… unless it’s for your safety.”

“If that red-nosed, fat bastard has anything to do with this…” Anne started to say.

“As far as I know, the Prime Minister has nothing to do with this invitation, and I wish you wouldn’t call him that. The situation between him and the royal family are strained enough as it is without him finding out you call him a red-nosed fat bastard, even if his is.” The King replied, suppressing a slight smile.

“I refuse!” Princess Anne almost stamped her foot, folding her arms over her chest instead, glaring at her father. It was a stance he’d seen before, and he wondered briefly if Mike Gray’s solution of putting her over his knee and spanking her bottom wasn’t so misplaced after all. He remembered a few times when his impulse was to do just that, and mores’ the pity he hadn’t.

“Anna! This is a royal command. You will dress up and you will go, is that clear!” In answer, she simply stormed out of the room and managed to slam the door behind her. In the end, with a lot of pouting and snapping at everybody within hearing, she went. Seaford of course came in for his share of her displeasure, and by the time they reached the Guild Hall, the temperature into the ground car was hovering around absolute zero.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Being corralled and ushered along by the stunningly beautiful Victoria Dennison didn’t help Anne’s mood any. Beside Victoria, she looked positively ugly, a feeling she wasn’t used to.

“Har! Bit of a long winded title you have there, young man.” Max grumbled as he shuffled over and shook hands with the men first, and then bowed to the Ladies and kissed their hands. They both curtsied to him and he smiled, the Lady Anne’s curtsy was nowhere near as graceful as the Lady Bridgett’s.

“Yes, sir. It is a bit of a mouthful sometimes, but you know these functions, they love to impress the lesser folk.” Mike Ross replied, sounding a little bored at having to mingle with ordinary business-class people. It was a good performance, and would have fooled Mike, if he hadn’t known any better.

“Seaford! I think I know your father.”

“You do… did?” Seaford asked in surprise.

“Yes. Isn’t he the one with the title, a broken down country estate and doesn’t have two shekels to rub together?” Max growled, giving him a wolfish grin. Seaford gritted his teeth.

“You must be thinking of another Lord Seaford.” He replied, feeling himself get a little red around the ears. Max Tregallion leaned forward and took hold of Seaford’s shoulder.

“Har! That’s not what you told me a while ago at the Royal Ball.” He whispered. Seaford stiffened.

Max Tregallion was never at the royal ball. Had Mike Gray told the old man what he’d said?” Seaford looked at Max Tregallion again, seeing him wink. Then it hit him, and he had to stop himself gasping in surprise. Max covered it by turning to the Lady Anne and Lady Bridgett.

“So, what are you to ladies doing here? Dragged along by these two ne’er-do-wells as fluff and decoration?”

“Well, the royal family was otherwise engaged, so the Lady Anne and I were…” Seaford coughed into his fist, “strongly requested to stand in for them.”

“Huh, couldn’t they have found something a little more appealing? I mean, the Lady Anne is about a lovely as the back end of a London taxi with the doors open.” Max said from behind his hand in a loud “stage whisper.” The Lady Anne looked outraged and stamped her foot.

“How dare you! I find you exceedingly rude and uncouth, Mr. Tregallion,” Lady Anne replied in a snippy tone Mike knew all too well, looking daggers at Mike/Max. But, she was stuck in her role as the Lady Anne otherwise she would probably have come over and punched his lights out. Still, it was fun to poke fun at her, but Mike suspected he’d pay for it later.

“Feisty one, what!’ Max nudged Seaforth and gave him a broad wink.

“Seaford, I think I’d like to retire and find more agreeable company than this colonial antediluvian neo barb.” With that she turned, and stomped out of the room rather ungracefully, followed a moment later by the Lady Bridgett.

“You’ll have to forgive the Lady Anne. She can be a little blunt at times,” Seaford apologized.

“Think nothing of it, boy. I know just how snippy her ladyship can be at times.” he grinned. Now Seaford knew who it was behind the mask, he knew exactly what Mike meant. “The admiral was just leaving, so take a seat.” He said, giving the admiral and Rolly a quick handshake and almost pulled them out of their seats whereupon Jenks ushered them out the door, in what he would have referred to, in his usual cockney manner, as giving them the bum’s rush.

“We’ll talk later over supper, Admiral.” Max called as they departed.

Seaford and Ross took the vacated seats, Ross still puzzled by what was going on. A slight tap on the back of his hand by Seaford and he held his tongue as he thought to jump in to defend the Lady Anne’s honor. The manservant handed them glasses and poured something else for them to drink, and while he was doing that, Max made a show of getting himself seated again, landing with a thump, and blowing out his cheeks. Mike felt his hands shake as he sat down, wanting nothing more than to rush out of the room and take the Lady Anne in his arms and crush her to his body. It was almost painful to hear her voice, and see her stomp out of the room in anger at him, well, at “Max.” An afterthought came to him, that maybe he shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation and “poked the bear.”

“I’m glad we had the chance to meet you, sir. You are something of a legend here. Is it true you flew through the
Rift
without navigational aids?” Ross asked, seeing Seaford wince.

“Of course it is, you young fool. How else do you think I found Avalon… well, it wasn’t called that back then.” It was unkind, but he had to act the part for any unseen watchers, like Tirra Lightly and other people hovering around the door to the salon. He’d apologize to his friend later. “It was a bit hairy at times, but as you can see I made it there, and back,” Mike/Max chuckled, quaffing another large gulp of fake brandy.

“Yes, sir. So I see.” Ross felt himself get a little hot around the ears. It wasn’t every day someone dared insult him that way.

“I hear there has been a bit of a shake up around here in the last few months.” Mike/Max asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His manservant immediately came over and they got into a tugging match about whether he was going to get the back of his hand wiped clean or not. His manservant won.

“Shake up, sir? How do you mean?” Ross suddenly got a little wary of the direction the old man’s talk was taking them.

“Oh, nothing. I just heard through the grapevine that the King has done a little housecleaning, and about time, if you ask me.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir,” Seaford said in an airy manner, “I never involve myself in all the dirty political nonsense you know. Very boring.”

“You’ll stay for a late supper of course. We have much to discuss.”

“Please. Mr. Tregallion. We don’t want to impose on your hospitality…”

“Nonsense. You and the others are my guests. Now be off with you and dance nicely for the pretty ladies.” They chatted for a moment longer to keep up the pretense before they were ushered out and another group entered to meet Max.

This lasted for a couple of hours, almost driving Mike to distraction, while talking to representatives of one sort or another, including one of London’s largest banking houses. Thankfully the meet and greet was short and they departed.

“Thank god that’s over. I wonder how many more?”

“Not many I think, Skipper.” Just then, Victoria glided into the room.

“Most of the guests have left, Max.” She let out a sigh herself.

“Thank god for that. Would you be so kind as to take Lord Seaford, Lord Ross and the ladies upstairs to the supper room? I’ll be up shortly.”

“Yes, of course.” Max struggled to his feet. “I just have to go take my medicine and I’ll be with you shortly.” As Victoria was about to leave, she turned back.

“I’m not sure if I can persuade the Lady Anne to remain for supper, Mr. Tregallion. She’s rather upset with you.”

“Oh, I’m sure between you and my friend here you can convince her.” He looked around at Jenks.

“You know what to do, old son. Be very gentle.”

“Like she was my own daughter, Skipper.”

Victoria took Seaford and Ross out of the main room to say their goodbyes to some of the guests as they were leaving while Jenks went looking for the Lady Anne.

Using a private elevator, Mike took it up to the third floor, the most secure part of the building. The electronic spy-bot killers were in full effect on every doorway and window killing off the smallest spy-fly or spider-bot that tried to get in. He quickly made his way round to the other side of the building and waited impatiently in the ladies room. In the meantime, Jenks had rounded up the reluctant ladies and their escorts and herded them into the lift to the second floor. The Lady Anne protested to Seaford that she wanted nothing more than to get out of this Aladdin’s Cave and go home, but Seaford pressed her to remain despite her protests. Jenks added his invitation, expressing profound apologies for Max’s earlier behavior. Somewhat mollified, and at Seaford’s insistence, she reluctantly agreed. Having attended such parties before, Anne knew she’d better find the ladies room and repair her makeup before attending the late supper. For Mike, the wait was a lot longer than it seemed until he heard the snippy voice of the Lady Anne demanding to know why the ladies room was so far from the dining room.

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