Master of Formalities Read online

  “Good morning, Migg.”

  “Good morning, Wollard.

  “Master Hennik seems to be adjusting well to life here in the palace.”

  “It does seem that way. Master Hennik has been making a great effort to fit in and help his new family . . . relax,” Migg said.

  “How are you today?” Wollard asked.

  “Today is not my best day,” Migg responded.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need medical assistance, or perhaps some other form of help?”

  “Not at the moment. If that changes, I will let you know.”

  “I see,” Wollard said.

  “One way or the other, I expect the problem will have passed by tomorrow.”

  “I see. Please do let me know if your condition changes.”

  “I will try.”

  Everyone took a moment to fully digest what they’d heard, then Wollard continued with the briefing as if nothing had happened.

  “We must all be on our toes today. Most of Her Ladyship’s agenda is taken up by a vitally important summit with Lord Ment Pavlon, ruler of the planet . . . Sheud.

  Wollard took care to pronounce Sheud properly, which meant saying shee-ood slowly, with his lips puckered. The information he’d received from the Arbiters had stressed the importance of using the correct pronunciation. They’d included the advice that the more wrong the word felt as it left your mouth, the better your pronunciation probably was.

  “Lord Pavlon will meet with Her Ladyship in Her Ladyship’s offices, then join the Jakabitus family for lunch. There will be a second round of meetings in the afternoon, after which he will depart for his home planet . . . Sheud. His world lies in close proximity to Ophion 6, and while the people of . . . Sheud have always maintained neutrality, they could be a powerful ally in our ongoing war with the Hahn.”

  Umily raised her hand. “Query.”

  “I recognize Umily, tender to personal needs.”

  “Has the intensity of the fighting died down at all?”

  “Sadly, as you know, I cannot say,” Wollard said. “Any information I may glean from Her Ladyship’s daily greetings must be held in strict confidence. You are actually in a better position to answer than I am. Have you received any letters from Gint recently?”

  “I got one the day before yesterday.”

  “Splendid. And has he been,” Wollard cleared his throat, “regenerated recently?”

  “No, not since those first four times.”

  “Well, that’s good news. It seems we might be able to surmise that the fighting has eased.”

  Umily shook her head. “I don’t know. I think he’s just better at not getting killed now.”

  Wollard said, “Either way, a positive development.”

  With that, Wollard called the morning briefing to a close. Glaz made her standard declaration about the quality of the day and the copiousness of the work to be done, then everyone separated into small groups, squeezing in just a bit of conversation before getting on with their duties.

  Migg approached Hartchar hesitantly, which was how most people approached Hartchar until they got to know her. Once they knew her, they approached cautiously.

  “Hartchar, may I have a word?” Migg asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You and Master Rayzo are having a regular sports practice today, right?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I was just wondering,” Migg said.

  “I understood that you asked because you were wondering. I wanted to know why you were wondering.”

  “Ah. Sorry. I’ll get to the point. Do you have anything out of the ordinary planned for practice today?”

  “No,” Hartchar said. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.”

  Hartchar said, “I’m glad we had this talk,” and started to walk away, but she paused when Migg spoke again.

  “I am sworn to keep the confidence of all members of the ruling family,” Migg said. “Particularly those with whom I work closely.”

  “So you are,” Hartchar agreed.

  “I also feel a debt to those who have been kind to me, and I don’t want to see anyone suffer unnecessarily.”

  “Migg, is Master Hennik planning something?”

  “I couldn’t say. If he were, it certainly wouldn’t be anything dangerous. His usual goal is to disrupt and antagonize, not to cause anyone physical harm.”

  “How would he disrupt or antagonize me, hypothetically?”

  Migg bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Hartchar. I’ve probably already said too much.”

  “You’ve said almost nothing.”

  Migg said, “Almost nothing is something.”

  On the other side of the room, a few members of the junior staff had gathered to talk.

  “Well, Kreet,” Ebbler said, “you’re on your own.”

  “Or, if you’d feel better about it, Shly could keep an eye on me,” Kreet said.

  “There’s no need for that. Remember, if you have any questions, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Kreet said, “Good.” He turned to Shly. “Where will you be?”

  “Doing my work,” Shly said.

  “So, Ebbler, you must be excited to finally be the sous chef,” Umily said.

  “You know it,” Ebbler said. “Who wouldn’t be?”

  Umily and Shly said nothing, but their smiles were a little too broad. Kreet said nothing and did not change his expression.

  “What?” Ebbler said. “Shouldn’t I be excited?”

  “No, you should,” Umily said.

  “Of course you should,” Shly agreed. “We know how badly you want this. We just wouldn’t want it ourselves, is all.”

  “Why not? It’s a huge honor to work with Chef Barsparse.”

  “Yes,” Umily said. “No question! She’s a great artist.”

  “Absolutely,” Shly said. “She uses her talent to do the work of a bulkfab, but that’s her decision.”

  Ebbler couldn’t believe his ears. “How can you say that? I explained this to you before. No bulkfab can do what she does.”

  Shly and Umily both nodded furiously, then Umily said, “Well, yes, you have said that.”

  “So, what, you didn’t believe me?” Ebbler asked. “Did you think I was talking nonsense?”

  Shly said, “It’s not like we’re calling you a liar. We believed that you believed it.”

  “No, you just thought I was wrong,” Ebbler said, sourly.

  Umily said, “Sorry, Ebbler, but when you come down to it, she makes food. That’s exactly what a bulkfab does.”

  “But . . . Umily . . . what?” Ebbler sputtered. “You’re married to Gint! He was the sous chef before Pitt!’

  “Yes,” Umily said. “I am.”

  “Did you ever tell him what you thought of his profession before you married him?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted to marry him.”

  Ebbler gave himself a moment to cool down, then, in an even tone that sounded as if it took great effort to maintain, said, “Bulkfabs are soulless machines. They crank out the same thing over and over. Chef Barsparse has originality and creativity. No two meals or servings are the same.”

  “That’s what a faulty bulkfab does,” Shly said. “Ebbler, I’m sorry.”

  Umily said, “Look, we’re happy for you. Barsparse is great, and we know how excited you are for this. We just don’t understand it.”

  “Look, I gotta go,” Ebbler said.

  “Go ahead. Have fun,” Shly said.

  “You’re gonna do great,” Umily added.

  Ebbler said, “Thanks, I appreciate that, but you really don’t know what great means.”

  19.

  Hennik opened his eyes a crack and looked at the wal
l of his bedchamber while his brain booted up. Once he felt ready, he started his day the way he started every day.

  “Migg,” he barked. “Have you let me oversleep?”

  “You have not overslept, Master Hennik. There is ample time to dress before breakfast is served.”

  “Lucky for you,” Hennik said. “You should thank me for waking up on my own, saving you from your own incompetence.”

  “Thank you, Master Hennik.”

  Migg was standing in the corner of his room, exactly where she’d been standing when he went to sleep. Back on the Hahn Home World, Hennik, like all members of the ruling family, had a special servant whose sole job was to stand in the corner of his bedchamber watching him while he slept, in case he needed something. Here, on Apios, Migg was the only proper Hahn servant assigned to him, and as Her Ladyship had refused to provide the stimulants necessary to keep Migg awake around the clock, Hennik was forced to make do.

  Migg stood in the corner until Hennik was asleep each night and resumed her position before he awoke each morning. It was less than ideal, but at least he knew she was getting less sleep than he was.

  Hennik sat up and looked blearily around the room. He slept without covers, in shorts. The temperature was set to his preferences, with the result that Migg—fully clothed and standing at attention—was quite uncomfortable, which was his preference.

  Hennik turned and hung his legs over the side of the bed. Migg sprang into action, rushing to open the door of the attached restroom facilities and ensure the room was prepared to Hennik’s standards. On the Hahn Home World, several servants would have been toiling and scrubbing right up to the last minute, waiting to scurry aside like frightened insects when the door opened, but the utilitics and four-a-day visits from Umily kept the room well stocked and in pristine condition.

  Hennik staggered into the lavatory while Migg stood facing the corner.

  “Did they speak of me at the morning briefing?” Hennik asked.

  “Yes, Master Hennik. The Master of Formalities asked how you were.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I told him that you were trying to fit in, as you instructed, Master Hennik.”

  “And was there any discussion of Rayzo?”

  “Master Rayzo’s name was barely mentioned, Master Hennik.”

  “Good. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve completely eclipsed the little worm. He’s an afterthought in his own home.”

  “Yes, Master Hennik.”

  “Even during his ridiculous Apiosan sports practice, his father pays more attention to me than to his own son.”

  “Yes, Master Hennik.”

  “That fool Frederain barely looks at the mat anymore. He’s too busy regaling me with stories of every single match he ever won when he was young.”

  “Quite so, Master Hennik.”

  “It isn’t fun for me, sucking up to that old blowhard, acting like I respect his ridiculous wife. The way she struts around, pretending to be a proper ruler, like my father. She sickens me.”

  “I know she does, Master Hennik.”

  “It will all be worth it when my plan comes to fruition. They’ll know I’ve been treating them with the ultimate disrespect by misleading them. They’ll be as crushed as their son is now. I bet Rayzo actually misses having that old fop shout useless advice at him.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised, Master Hennik.”

  “I can’t wait to see the look on Rayzo’s ugly little face when I climb onto the mat today.”

  “Do you still intend to participate in practice today, Master Hennik?”

  “Of course I do,” Hennik said.

  “I suppose it is an opportunity to receive physical training from a professional at your adversary’s expense.”

  “What, Hartchar? No, I don’t think that monster has anything to teach me. I’ll participate because this is my last opportunity to prove my ultimate superiority to Rayzo before our escape.”

  “We still intend to escape, Master Hennik?”

  “Of course we do. It’s all we think about! We can’t wait to get back to the Hahn Home World and put this awful place behind us.” After a moment of silence, Hennik asked, “Isn’t that right?”

  Migg said, “Yes, Master Hennik, it is as you say.”

  “Yes, it is,” Hennik agreed.

  His business in the lavatory done, Hennik returned to his bedchamber and assumed his dressing stance, feet slightly apart, arms spread wide, and an impatient look on his face. Threading garments onto Hennik had become easier now that he’d grudgingly adopted Apiosan clothing, but Hennik always compensated for this by being less helpful in the dressing process.

  “Should I assume,” Hennik asked, “that since you were somehow uncertain of the status of our escape plan, you haven’t gathered the things I ordered?”

  “I apologize for my misunderstanding, Master Hennik,” Migg said as she lifted his right foot to sheathe it in his pant leg. “But the items are available.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, Master Hennik.”

  “Where? Let me see!”

  “I don’t have the items here, Master Hennik. I didn’t want to arouse suspicion. I have procured sources for all of the necessary pieces, though, and I can have them here today, should you decide to make an attempt.”

  “Migg, you dullard. I’ve already decided. We escape tonight. And we won’t make an attempt. We will escape.”

  “Yes, Master Hennik. I’m sorry, Master Hennik.”

  “Go to your sources. I expect to find the things I need in this room this afternoon. We have an opportunity here, Migg, and I’m not going to waste it. Understand?”

  “I understand, Master Hennik.”

  “Good.”

  Now fully dressed, Hennik took a moment to look at himself. In addition to being easier to put on and take off than Hahn clothing, Apiosan clothing tended toward brighter colors, more ornamentation, and was designed to flatter, giving the impression of a narrow waist and a muscular frame while concealing the parts of one’s anatomy of which one might be less proud.

  “Disgusting,” Hennik said, inspecting his ensemble. “Don’t you agree, Migg?”

  “Yes, Master Hennik.”

  Hennik shook his head. “Even their clothes are dishonest. They start each day by cloaking themselves in falsehood. Migg, we need to get away from these people.”

  Hennik left. Migg waited a respectful interval, allowing him to put enough distance between them to be spared the undignified spectacle of Migg leaving to go to her quarters.

  Once she reached her quarters, Migg spent a long time sitting on her bed with her eyes closed, imagining all of the various ways the day could play out.

  Eventually she sighed and said, “I suppose it’s time to go to my sources.”

  She used the bulkfab set into the wall of her quarters to start producing the items Hennik had specified. All of the servants had their own bulkfabs. Hennik didn’t know, and Migg hadn’t told him.

  20.

  Lady Jakabitus stood in the courtyard, waiting.

  Wollard stood next to her, also waiting.

  Phee stood next to Wollard, watching them wait.

  They were not concerned about security. While it was true that Her Ladyship was standing out in a large open area during a time of war, that open area was surrounded by her own palace, which was itself surrounded by a zone of carefully protected space, through which, they were confident, nothing unwelcome could penetrate.

  Wollard cleared his throat. “Milady, I should point out that it is not too late to summon the rest of the ruling family.”

  “Should you?” Lady Jakabitus asked.

  “Milady, I’m merely trying to inform you of all of your options. In this instance, you still have the option of assembling your family and the staff to gre
et Lord Pavlon.”

  “I do have that option.”

  “Then shall I send Phee to—”

  “No,” Lady Jakabitus said. “You shall not.”

  “Lady Jakabitus, I apologize if I have displeased you. I would not be doing my job if I didn’t remind you that greeting a visiting Lord without the entire family and staff is highly unusual.”

  “Unusual, but not unprecedented,” Lady Jakabitus said.

  “It is true, Milady, that under unusual circumstances, various rulers have, at times, entertained foreign rulers without introducing them to the household, but it is not the norm.”

  “This is an unusual situation, Wollard. You know that. Our war with the Hahn has only intensified, despite our efforts. The Hahn are still employing strategies that are so outdated we’re only now beginning to remember how to combat them. Lord Pavlon is in a position to be a great help to us. It’s important for him to perceive me as a tough-minded leader who is serious about securing his assistance. I don’t think it’s important that he see me as a loving mother and wife. Above all, I think it is of paramount importance that he not be exposed to Hennik, and you’d be the first to point out that to introduce the rest of my family but omit my adopted son would be bad form.”

  “Indeed, Milady.”

  The transport became visible in the distance, plummeting out of the stratosphere before leveling off on a trajectory that carried it over the city and straight through the palace’s gates. As always, the craft turned sideways to give the honored guests the best possible view. Soon the craft was stationary, the ramp had poured into position, and the passengers emerged.

  The first person out of the craft was a man, middle aged and trim. He wore a dark, dignified uniform. He paused, looked about the courtyard, then nodded almost imperceptibly toward Lady Jakabitus. The nod said that he knew it would be rude to greet Her Ladyship out of turn, but it would be equally rude to pretend that he didn’t notice her. He turned back to the craft and extended a hand toward the open portal.

  The next person out of the transport was a man of similar build and age to the first, but dressed very differently. He wore a bright orange robe with a shocking green hem, cuffs, and collar, all of which flared aggressively. His hands, protruding from the oversized sleeves, looked like clappers in a pair of church bells. His head was dwarfed by the collar, which extended well above his cranium, not that you could see his head, hidden as it was beneath a thick layer of white makeup and a towering hat that branched like a tree, tapering to several points, the tallest of which was an arm’s length above his shoulders.