Time Commander (The First Admiral Series) (18 page)

After the initial shock of this vision appearing, Elizabeth was sure she mumbled something, but was not sure whether it was coherent to anyone who spoke English. The vision, however, seemed to understand what she meant.

“It looks like we had best get you to your hotel, Missus Caudwell.” The vision helped Elizabeth get to her feet.

Unfortunately, compounded with the shock and her aching leg pains, the effort of rising from her seat caused Elizabeth to stumble, and the frail and fragile heel of the ridiculously high-heeled shoes snapped. Elizabeth, finding herself being pitched forwards, was suddenly halted in her progress to the hard concrete floor, blocked by what she thought was a brick wall. The brick wall, however, had strong, gentle arms that helped her regain her balance.

“Be careful there, ma’am. Mister Harper, the lady’s luggage to the car, if you please.” The vision spoke with the calm, confident, assurance of someone who was used to being obeyed.

“
Yes, Mister Lindstrom.” The tall, thick-set burly man in a black chauffeurs uniform, whom Elizabeth had not noticed up until that moment, had a very faint Irish-American accent.

To Elizabeth Caudwell’s mild annoyance, the chauffeur began to push the trolley with his massively powerful left hand. The trolley, being pushed with such brute force, squealed and squeaked a protest from its damaged left front wheel for a few seconds, before the offending wheel was torn free from the blockage that had impeded Elizabeth, and began to run straight and true.

“And, I suspect you won’t be needing those anymore.” Lindstrom took the right shoe from her hand and scooped the damaged left shoe clean from her foot, before shoving them both into the waste-bin beside the airport bench.

Part of her was glad to be relieved of the high-heeled torture that pinched her feet and made it difficult for her to walk. Part of her was horrified that such expensive shoes would fall apart so easily, plus, not to mention how John would be outraged at the expenditure. Yet, part of her said nothing because she was in awe of this blond haired knight in shining armour, who was the kind of “take charge” sort of man that she was not accustomed to arguing with.

“I’ll have one of our Fashion Associates replace them for you with something more comfortable for New York City at the hotel.” He flashed that dazzling smile at her once again.

Feeling slightly weak at the knees, and in awe of this blond haired vision, Elizabeth uttered the first coherent words that she could remember from her American trip.

“Thank you for your kindness, mister…?”

“
Lindstrom, Peter Lindstrom, Vice-President Millinghouse Publications,” he said.

“
Oh, Mister Lindstrom, from the publishers, I do apologise... it appears to be very hot and stifling in here.” Elizabeth smiled sheepishly, trying to explain her predicament, and felt her face flush, like she was an adolescent schoolgirl in front of the object of her first real crush.

What on Earth do you think you’re doing, Elizabeth
, she chastised herself,
you’ve been here five minutes, and already you’re flirting with the first man to speak to you? Swooning like some stupid schoolgirl in front of the first handsome man you set eyes on? For goodness sakes, Elizabeth, show a bit of decorum
, she chided herself.

“
No need to worry, Missus Caudwell,” her saviour replied politely, “New York is particularly oppressive at this time of year for those not acclimatised to her.”

“
Have you been to Britain, Mister Lindstrom?” she asked.

“
Well, yes, I completed a postgraduate study at Magdelen College in Oxford almost ten years ago now.” Lindstrom impressed Elizabeth further by pronouncing the college name correctly as Maud-lin. “Now, if you’re feeling better, we had best get you to the hotel.”

“
Of course.” Elizabeth smiled and instinctively reached her hand into the crook of Lindstrom’s arm.

Lindstrom, showing no sign of protest or disagreement, led Elizabeth Caudwell through the main concourse of New York airport. Elizabeth Caudwell walked in barefoot silence next to her handsome rescuer, feeling slightly stupid and light-headed. Elizabeth had no real idea what to say to the tall, good looking American as she walked in barefoot silence beside her rescuer. It had been many years since Elizabeth Caudwell had been tongue-tied, and it was a feeling she enjoyed whilst at the same time guilt nagged at her.

As they walked through the airport, Elizabeth noticed that not only that Mister Lindstrom had a powerful muscular left arm, but, that she also felt astonishingly safe with this man.

The walk from the Arrival Gate to the main entrance seemed to pass in the blink of an eye to Elizabeth Caudwell, as she wracked her brain to say something to this man that wouldn’t appear like she was flirting outrageously. Instead, she said nothing, and allowed him to lead her through the milling crowds of travellers in that awkward and nervous silence that she had only ever experienced before on a first date with someone she really found attractive.
Pull yourself together, Elizabeth,
she scolded herself, and found her hand squeezing Lindstrom’s muscular arm just a little bit too tightly for decency’s sake, as she pulled herself closer to him.

Once again, Lindstrom made no protest as he sailed majestically, powerfully and serenely like an unstoppable ocean-going Liner through the main concourse of the airport, leading her directly to the main door. Feeling slightly intoxicated and dizzy, Elizabeth hung on to his arm as they passed through the main door of New York airport out into the heavy, humid and oppressively noisy air of the city itself.

For a moment, the great barrage of sound and energy hit Elizabeth Caudwell like a huge tidal wave, and, for a moment, frightened and excited her both at the same time. The sun was shining brightly in the cloudless blue sky, marred only by the pollution haze from the city. It was just as Elizabeth Caudwell had imagined, except dirtier, smellier and noisier. She didn’t care. She had always dreamed of visiting New York City, and now she was here. She was going to achieve many more of her dreams before her days of wandering were over.

As she stepped out of the airport, Mister Harper was already loading the last of her cases in to the rear of a long black Limousine. With one deft movement, Lindstrom opened the rear passenger door for her.

“There we go, Missus Caudwell, safely to the car.” He flashed that beautiful, dazzling smile that made Elizabeth’s heart skip a beat.

“
Thank you.” She grinned breathlessly, hoping that her knees would hold up, and slid onto the comfortably upholstered, black leather, rear seat of the enormous vehicle.

Like closing a door on the rest of the world, Elizabeth Caudwell felt the cooler air of the vehicle wash over her like a refreshing shower. The air conditioned limousine was indeed a blessed relief, and for the first time since she had arrived in New York, Elizabeth Caudwell began to feel almost human again. Shuffling along the seat to allow Lindstrom to sit next to her, she could smell the leather of the upholstery, the faint smell of gasoline and, horrifyingly, her own body odour. The effort and sweating of pushing that trolley had overwhelmed her deodorant and expensive perfume. Feeling slightly self-conscious, Elizabeth rolled down the window in the hope that the fresh air would mask her odour.

Lindstrom pushed onto the seat and slammed the door behind him, and in that instant, Elizabeth caught the aroma of his after shave. It was a clean, masculine smell that assaulted her senses and brought that familiar, queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach that she tried to ignore.

“
Isn’t this exciting?” Elizabeth exclaimed. She spoke, simply for the sake of saying something, and instantly wished that she hadn’t.

She didn’t want this handsome stranger sitting next to her to think that she was some out-of-town, backwater tourist who would be impressed by a building over three storeys high. She had to be cool, calm and collected here.

And,
remember, behave yourself, Elizabeth! You’re a happily married woman
, she thought to herself.

First Admiral William Caudwell hated formal events. This time, however, there was no way out. The Ganthorans had invited them to a traditional “Welcoming” for the Time Warrior Candidate, and it would be a dress uniform event. When informed of the formal function, Billy’s heart had sunk. Old habits, however, died hard in the mind of Billy Caudwell. Despite the years of political chicanery and double dealing in the part of his mind that was Teg Skarral Portan, Billy still couldn’t escape the mindset of the persecuted youngster he had been at school.

Well
, he considered,
if
I’m going to have to go, I may
as well make the best of it.
Setting things into a military context, Billy recognised that he should treat this as a reconnaissance mission. Ambassador Sarkor Nicx was keen to glean every scrap of information and knowledge that she could from her new hosts. Although, still formally at war with the Ganthorans, the armistice created by accepting the Time Warrior challenge allowed Ambassador Nicx to begin to work her particular brand of diplomacy.

The exception to the rule of Dress Uniform was Ambassador Nicx. This being a formal diplomatic event, she had no alternative other than to wear the long, light blue robe with the golden waist sash of the Alliance Diplomatic Corps. The sleeves of the robe were long and loose, allowing some freedom of movement and a degree of personal comfort for the wearer. And, since this was a formal event, Sarkor Nicx had no alternative other than to wear the three headbands of her species. The bands that her mother had given her were of a valuable silver metal that were handed down through the female line of her family. Setting the bands into her long, black, curly hair, Sarkor Nicx had been pleased with the contrast effect of silver on black. However, with the dress arrangement sorted out, Ambassador Nicx and First Admiral Caudwell stepped forth into the fray of the Welcoming Ball. Nicx punched in the six-digit code in the hand-held device that would take them to the Reception Hall of the Imperial Palace.

The circular Reception Hall of the Imperial Palace was every bit as grand as the name suggested. The pale, cream-coloured floor beneath Billy’s feet was polished and sleek, echoing to the swish of soft-soled shoes and the harsher click of the military boots that stepped across it. The walls were of a similar pale cream colouring pattern, with large light panels thirty feet high and ten feet wide. They were interspersed by images of long-dead Ganthoran Emperors and Empresses, who smiled and scowled down upon the mingling crowd of guests from the image frames. The ceiling of the Reception Hall was a darker brown colour, from which hung large light cubes to supplement the light sources from the walls, whilst spaced neatly throughout the Reception Hall stood the ridiculously slim support pillars that held the ceiling up.

On Earth, the support pillars would have been tall, broad and straight, these dark brown almost black, pillars spiralled and corkscrewed upwards in a strange confection of shapes and angles that seemed to defy all the known laws of physics.

The Reception Hall was already filling with people who arrived from the dozen Tele-Portal doors scattered around the perimeter of the Hall.

“
Ah, First Admiral Caudwell, Ambassador Nicx, welcome!” Second Adjudicator Tiba broke the increasingly oppressive silence in the Reception Hall.

The smaller, and more rotund, part Thelian Second Adjudicator welcomed them from the Tele-Portal doorway. Wearing a black tunic and breeches, Tiba had set off his evening wear with a narrow gold sash from his left shoulder in an outfit that did not draw too much attention to his spreading waistline.

“Adjudicator Tiba,” Sarkor Nicx said, “thank you for this great honour.”

“
Not at all, Ambassador.” Tiba smiled the honest smile of the Thelians. “To be quite honest with you, everyone in Ganthoran society is absolutely bursting with curiosity to see the new Time Warrior Candidate. It is said that some people would kill their own parents to get an invitation to the Welcoming Ball.”

“
Then, I do trust that we do not prove to be a disappointment,” Sarkor Nicx said.

“
Oh no, Ambassador, we haven’t had a Welcoming Ball in almost three years, since the last Candidate, and we Ganthorans do like to put on a good display.” The Adjudicator smiled and clapped his hands loudly; twice.

“
Ladies and Gentlemen!” Tiba called to the people on the two staircases. “Our honoured guests have arrived, so could you please step towards the wall.”

With a buzz of excitement, the people on the stairways complied and began to line the walls of the Reception Hall. Once again, the loud rush of conversation broke out as Adjudicator Tiba nodded to some unseen watcher.

With that simple nod from Tiba, the entire area of wall between the two staircases slowly began to open outwards towards Billy and his party.

“
Please?” Tiba, with a small bow, indicated that they step forwards towards the ever widening opening in the wall.

As the party of four began to move towards the opening wall, a strange swishing sound began. Looking towards the Ganthorans, watching their progress, Billy could see that the people were rubbing their hands together; with their hands set straight, at ninety degrees to each other, the ladies were rubbing their fingers in a small, circular, clockwise, pattern. For the gentlemen, they rubbed the palms of their hands together in an anti-clockwise manner. This was apparently the Ganthoran equivalent of applause, and once again, First Admiral Caudwell was quite un-nerved by it all.