The Waylaid Count (3)

 3

When my interest in Julbo flagged, I again began observing other diners. I noticed a young man entering, and had that feeling that we had met somewhere before. While I was still trying to place him, he approached my table.

“Major Raskelis?” At the sound of his voice, I immediately placed him.

“Major Gagginald Lodimmick, I believe?” I asked, nodding my head in response to his question. His smile confirmed the answer to mine. “Please be seated.” 

Major Lodimmick proved himself, despite his extreme youth, to be a man of the world and a practiced talker. The conversation between us never flagged. We spoke of his home in South Quaros. We chattered about Aux Thorksworth and the ice on Lake Reva. We moved on to the tenor at the opera who had been exiled, the quality of Quarian tea, and the sweetness of Quarian champagne. South Quaros exhausted, I lightly outlined my own doings since I had met the young man in Aux Thorksworth last year, and this recital brought the topic round to the Ritzavoy XI, where it stayed until my father returned.

“What a long time you have been, Pops,” I said.

“Only twenty minutes, my dove.”

“But you said two seconds. There is a difference. I was beginning to worry you had been waylaid by thieves.”

“Well, you see, I had to wait for the steak to cook.”

“Did you have much trouble in getting my birthday treat?”

“No trouble. But it didn’t come quite as cheap as you said.”

“What do you mean, Father?”

“Only that I’ve bought the entire cruiseshuttle. But don’t split hairs about it.”

“Pops, you always go above and beyond as a parent. Will you give me the cruiseshuttle for a birthday present?”

“No. I plan to run it—as an amusement. By the way, who is this?”

“This is a friend of mine who came in about five minutes ago, Major Gagginald Lodimmick. Of course I told him he must share our table. He is a companion to General Ribereus of South Quaros. I met him when I was in Aux Thorksworth with cousin Hetitia last fall. Major Lodimmick, this is my dear father.”

Major Lodimmick shook hands with her father as a new waiter delivered the steak. 

“Now that introductions have gone around, do tell, Pops, how you managed to purchase this entire ship?”

“I read in the news some months ago,” my father began, “that this cruiseshuttle was to be sold to a limited company, but it that the sale was not carried out. According to Mr. Feliste Ritzavoy, the man I just purchased this ship from, the middlemen between the proposed company and himself wished to make a large secret profit. He was against this. Since neither side could reach an agreement, the sale was cancelled. I asked Mr. Ritzavoy if the agreed upon price was still satisfactory to him, and he stated it was as long as I was not buying it simply to resell it for a higher amount. After a few questions, where I learned the return that could be had with my money, we agreed and an informal preliminary contract was drawn up immediately. 

“Then, I requested to see Mr. Rocco the chef. I promptly increased his pay by fifty percent if he agreed to stay on—which he naturally did. Once that business had concluded, I immediately requested your dinner and he immediately left to oblige. I dine with Mr. Rocco tomorrow to iron out any other issues we might have.” 

“Oh, Pops! You’ve gotten mustard on your collar,” I noticed when he finished with a wave of his fork. 

“Have I?” my father replied, moving aside to use the darkened window as a mirror. As he did so, I noticed Julbo standing nearby and saw him slowly and deliberately wink at Major Lodimmick. I caught Major Lodimmick nod slightly in response out of the corner of my eye. I was puzzled at what kind of relationship a companion to General Ribereus of South Quaros had with a maître d'hôtel on a cruiseshuttle that only spent one-fourth of its time around the planet Majrita. 

My father turned back to the table with a look of dismay. Mr. Lodimmick acted as if nothing had happened. 

Thinking back through our conversation, I realized that Mr. Lodimmick gave very meagre information about his own movements, either past or future. I began to wonder how he had obtained his post as companion to General Ribereus of South Quaros. 

When ices had been followed by coffee, I decided that it might be as well to discover something about the Major. 

“Aren’t you interested in Major Lodimmick’s position, Pops?” My father looked a little startled at this appeal, but trusted me completely. 

“You said, Mr. Lodimmick, that you hold a confidential position with General Ribereus of South Quaros,” he said. “You will pardon my ignorance, but is General Ribereus a reigning Count as well?”

“The General is not a reigning Count, nor ever likely to be,” answered Lodimmick. “The head of the government is the General’s nephew, Count Yougen.”

“Nephew?” I could not help my astonishment from showing. I knew I was a terrible poker player and wore all my emotions on my sleeve.

“Is there something wrong with that, dear lady?” Lodimmick asked.

“But General Ribereus is surely very young?”

“The General, by one of those vagaries of chance, is precisely the same age as the Count. The late Count’s father was married twice. Hence this youthfulness on the part of an uncle.”

“How interesting to be the uncle of someone as old as yourself! But I suppose it is no fun for General Ribereus. I suppose he has to be frightfully respectful and obedient, and all that, to his nephew?”

“The Count and my serene master are like brothers. At present, of course, General Ribereus is nominally heir to the throne, but as no doubt you are aware, the Count will shortly marry a near relative of the Emperor’s, and should there be a family—” Lodimmick stopped and shrugged his straight shoulders. “The Count would much prefer General Ribereus to be his successor. He really doesn’t want to marry. Between ourselves, strictly between ourselves, he regards marriage as rather a bore. But, of course, being a Count, he has a duty to marry. He owes it to South Quaros.”

“How large is South Quaros?” her father asked bluntly.

“I forget the exact acreage, but I remember that General Ribereus and myself walked across it once in a single day.”

“Then I guess you may say that the sun does set on his empire?”

“It does,” said Lodimmick.

“Unless the weather is cloudy,” I added. “I guess it was lucky of you to have found a position with the General instead of the Count. I presume you get to travel while the Count and his assistant must stay home and rule the country?”

“On the contrary, the Count is a great traveler, much more so than General Ribereus. In fact, although no one else knows it at the moment, the General will be meeting the Count here with his entourage tomorrow.”

“In this cruiseshuttle?” I asked, shocked Lodimmick would reveal to practical strangers the traveling plans of those so high in his country’s government. 

“Yes.”

“Oh! How lovely!” I added a smile to make it seem that I was excited to meet them while inwardly I was abhorred by this breach of confidence. I would definitely be letting the General know my opinion of his assistant. 

“That is why your humble servant is here tonight. I’m sort of an advance guard.”

“But I understood,” my father said, “that you were—er—attached to General Ribereus, the uncle.”

“I am. The Count trusts me as a scout as much as my own employer. The Count and the General have business concerning an important investment connected with the Count’s marriage settlement.”

For a person trusted with such discreet information, you are fairly communicative—I thought to myself. 

“Shall we go out on the virtual terrace?” I asked aloud.

All parties agreed, but as they crossed the dining room Julbo stopped Mr. Lodimmick and handed him a letter. 

“This just came, sir,” said Julbo.

“Leave me alone with this boy a little,” I dropped behind and whispered in my father’s ear.

“I am a mere nothing, an obedient nobody,” my father replied, pinching my arm sneakily. “I will go and look after my cruiseshuttle. Shall we meet at reception on Deck 6 in an hour or so?” I gave a nod, and soon afterwards he disappeared.

I sat together with Mr. Lodimmick on the enclosed terrace as we sipped iced drinks. Amid the blossoming plants few people passed. I tried again to ply information about his activities in the past year, and noted the contrast between his openness with the plans of those he should have been protecting and the closedness of his own plans—past and future. I hope when the General finally arrived I would have some time to speak with him in private about my concern.

At ten o’clock, Julbo brought another note. I tried to see what it was about, but he was careful to keep the information it contained hidden. 

“I must beg a thousand pardons,” he said after glancing at the note. “I have some urgent business for the General if you will excuse me. Would you like me to escort you to your room?” 

“I feel no need of an escort, but thank you for offering.” I said and made sure both he and Julbo left before I headed off to meet my father.