Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is
Chapter 31 The Disgruntled
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)
Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex
Freedom of expression is precious. To do that, Nifty needs help. Your donation is greatly desired. Give to http://donate.nifty.org/ or this story ends and all the others! That would be a crime!
In the best society, there will be some that just won't be satisfied. Peter and Olek admitted that not everyone was happy with the way it was in Makarovia. We are going to hear about a few of them. With an entire country backing their leaders decisions, you forget there are some who were not happy. Why?
The Disgruntled
I pointed at the train, "Can we go in?"
"Sure!" David nodded and we headed toward the red train.
I was excited about climbing onboard and then disappointed. The passenger car looked like a passenger plane, but parallel couches faced each other making a conversation area with four or six of those seats. The seats were thick and plush seats in first class. The material was soft deep red. Half faced the rear of the train if you sat in the seat. I realized there was only one track underground. So, going half of the passengers faced backward, coming back you faced forward. The train couldn't turn around. There was a nice bit of legroom, too.
"King Olek informed us there eventually will be another train," Ed said, "with smaller ones going to the smaller villages."
There were three seats...couches...across the train. Two side by side then the aisle and a single. The couch in front had a desk that folded down. I opened one and saw a small screen that probably showed movies and television programs. This train wasn't designed and built just for us, but for other countries for trips that would be further and longer. But with a trip of only maybe ten minutes, why bother? Maybe from the Northernmost to the Southernmost village, but not yet. There were windows, but underground all you could see would be rocks. The excitement and disappointment were quick. We went forward to the control room. Outside the train looked like a spaceship. The control room...it was kind of boring. There wasn't even a joystick! A desk faced the windshield. On the desk was a fat turn nob. That was the throttle? You didn't have to read to understand what they were for! Turned all the way to the left, no bars meant no speed. All the way to the right the size bars grew and that meant greater speed. An emergency stop, and shutdown button you could not miss. I guess I expected more of a plane cockpit look with all the dials and screens. It required no steering, so there wasn't a need for the screens or joysticks.
Basically, there was "on," "off," "go," and "stop." Like I said, boring. I could foresee one problem. Whoever is the Engineer would have to battle staying awake. It was dark, a good rhythm on the rails...I was getting sleepy just thinking about it. I'm sure there would be lights down here in the tunnel. There would be nice things to see above ground, but this was to be completely underground because of the months of ice and snow was covering everything. That's why we needed these underground tunnels in the first place.
Peter smiled as he bounced a little on a cushioned seat, "Oooh, zruchno." He looked up at us. "I don't know the word in English for that."
I had to think a moment, but soon chuckled, "Comfy."
Peter thought about it and then brightened, "That makes sense." He stood again. "Everyone travels first class!" He looked up at Ed, "Why is it there are more tunnels here than Stryia?"
Ed's face showed surprise and he searched his mind for the right thing say the right way, "Well, we really didn't have a choice..."
"Probably because there are more people living here than in Stryia," I answered as Ed nodded in agreement. "They need to be more housing and that spreads out in the neighborhood."
"That's right," David said. "All the people needed to get to work in the last winter, so we used some heavy equipment!"
"Like what?" I asked.
Ed looked a little worried, "You don't like the train?"
"The train is great, but..." I hesitated.
David began to smile, "But...?" He was pretty sure he knew what the problem was that I had.
"It will be more exciting as a passenger and moving," I confessed. I saw Ed was more concerned. "Where are the bells and whistles?"
"Bells and whistles?" Peter repeated the words to try to understand my use of them in the sentence.
"Yes." I stated, waving at the single chair, "Here, the Engineer will have a hard time staying awake!"
Ed smiled, "Oh, no." Chuckling he shook his head. "The Engineer won't even be on the train." He touched the chair. "This is more for the Conductor. The Engineer will be in an office in Stryia." He pointed at the few controls there, "The Operator is connected to the office for the Engineer." He shrugged, "Really, it doesn't need him either, but if there's a problem onboard the train, someone needs to be here to handle it. This train can go and leave with nobody on it, crew, or passenger."
David nodded, "All done by the computer."
"No!" I mockingly wailed, "No, no, no." I turned to Peter. "It's a train!" I said as that should be enough of an explanation. "Come on, everybody knows a train has to have an Engineer wearing the hat with those little white stripes, a bell, and a whistle! How else will we know it's coming? When it comes to a road the whistle lets people know to get out of the way or even just to say hello to that special someone as you pass by. It's a rule if not a law!"
Peter nodded putting his arms around me, "And he knows almost all of the rules."
"Someone has to keep us from chaos! I know this train will improve a lot of lives in Makarovia," I said seriously. "Increase productivity. It's beautiful. I don't know where the button for a whistle is on this." It was going to be a subway run by remote control.
The tunneling was pretty fast. When I mentioned how I couldn't believe how fast to Peter, and he just looked at me with an expression that clearly asked how I could say that.
"Really?" He asked. It wasn't a real question or a statement, but somewhere in between. "The military is here to add manpower, but how many tunnels were here already? A mine and a tunnel are the same things and Makarovians have done it..." he paused thinking, "since swords and shields were the weapons and cannons. After work, fathers shared what they did, and the next generation learned and passed it on. Makarovians KNOW how to tunnel."
My eyebrows rose, "Well, excuse me!"
"You're excused." He said dismissively and grinned.
I knew there had been some equipment brought in, but Makarovia used equipment of their own they had created. Equipment the supporting countries now found helpful and had duplicated. There was the Krots. That's Makarovian and Ukrainian for mole. This mole had teeth! I wasn't just saying that figuratively, I mean it literally had these big metal teeth. Depending on the rock, it cut about sixty feet a day! In softer rock and soil, it could be as much as two hundred feet a day. I had seen the mechanical excavators before. When they began digging the mine. I saw these strange, squat vehicles the military and those people used to help with the mining. I'm sure they worked, but Makarovians insisted they use the Krot. Makarovians had come up with the Krots themselves. The idea was supported by the USSR as it would increase the yield, so of course, they gave Makarovia what they asked for, so the USSR got more.
The Krots had these spinning, rolling...things, and I'm sorry the only thing that came to my mind were rolling pins. You know, to smooth out dough? They were four of the spiked pins on each Krot a couple of meters in size with those large, several centimeters long "teeth." They started wide apart and gradually came together to a point. They spun away or toward each other and cleared a lot of rock that was chewed away. It burrowed. It was the clean up after the rock was broken up that had to be the biggest time-consuming problem. That and keeping the tunnel floor flat.
There were lessons learned by everyone. Loosening up all this rock sounds simple? Cave-ins were always possible! I bet everyone has seen those mines in westerns or other movies and seen those wooden struts that held the roof and walls in place with mines. They were supports to prevent cave-ins! Now, the supports now weren't wood, but metal and they were to prevent cave-ins There were a few cave-ins in the past especially with our Russian managers who were pushing to get more and faster. Now the managers were Makarovians who knew the dangers and took extra precautions.
Mining or tunneling was pretty much the same.
Makarovians learned that the scans before they drilled were pretty accurate and those here to help the Makarovians found out that the generations of experience were as reliable as the computer scans in knowing the strength of the rock and surroundings.
Tunneling was easy because of the Krots, making the tunnels so they could be used was the difficult part.
This isn't exactly a rabbit, but an explanation as to not only how quickly things changed, but why. You might not care how, but the passing thought "that was quick" needed an explanation. I was impressed, but the people I saw were from the military. I think. I couldn't really tell the difference between the British Military and military from the United States. What I saw told me they weren't Makarovians. I couldn't hear them speak, but there were subtle differences in their behaviors told me that. People from the West moved about with more confidence in movements. Such as when they met others, the head was high, and the eyes were open and looked directly at each other as equals. Makarovians were not shrinking violets or cowards, but generations of subjugation reflected in that behavior. Even with their own friends.
Yes, I know, fascinating, isn't it? That was sarcastic if you didn't figure that out. I just didn't want you to see I said something was there and have someone ask, "how'd they do that?" I was here, I saw it and I asked, "how'd they do that?" That's why I'm telling you all this. This is how.
Even underground there were differences in how things were arranged. The housing near the Commissary/Base Exchange was newer for the personnel sent to help. It had wiring and pipes for freshwater and sewage underground making them easier to access and maintain. The original homes had them added to structures already there, just like in Stryia. The modern world added to the old existing world.
But what happened to Olek and Helga? What about the Consortium? I'm getting to that.
There were people here who were brought in to teach Makarovian miners how to deep-core mine for the uranium. Mining was the center of everything in Makarovia. Every man, woman, and child were here because of mining. While not even picking up any ore in their life, they were here because of mining to support those that did mine. From schoolteachers for the miners' children, doctors who cared for the health of miners and the family, to grocers who kept them supplied with food. Everything surrounded mining. The powerful countries in the West imported and exported many things which made them very powerful. Sadly, Makarovia only had one big export: from the mines. There were multiple ores, but all of it mined. Now there was something we had that everyone wanted, could use, and that made it so important that we control it. The first two powers were told at the same time. The United States and the United Kingdom prided themselves on being fair and just. Olek knew they would watch over each other. The other countries would be watched over by them.
It's a fact, Makarovians knew how to tunnel and hide extremely well. They also didn't rely on simple trust that people would keep their word. That's why Olek always recorded his meetings. Always. It wasn't distrusting, but it wasn't trusting either. That was done with everyone, so no one felt they were being unfairly singled out.
All of this I say because of the changes. The world of the West had come to the East. My original concern was now back and warning me about the speed this was happening. Makarovians were NOT stupid. I mean that. They were often brilliant. Those that escaped oppression for being what they are in the countries of their birth were better prepared, but natives born and raised in Makarovia were not necessarily prepared. The new computers, televisions, and other items had dangers many Makarovians were not prepared for. My wanting to warn about scammers on the internet was a major concern for me and rightly so. People born and raised in the West were often tricked and cheated every single day, too. I don't believe I'm a cynic, but there are idioms that can't be ignored. "If it looks too good to be true, something's wrong" and "If it seems too good to be true, it usually is." There are people on the internet that can be charming and get you to trust them. You let your guard down and they take everything they can. They are damned good at it. That is key, they have to be good at it or find another means of getting things from people. A conman has got to be able to convince you he's honest.
I was fooled (almost) only once, but I had enough of my grandparents in me to catch him pretty quickly. Kyle was the name I was given, and he was a guy that I "met" online in a chatroom for people dealing with grief...grief, for god's sake! Grieving widows and family that may have money left to them because of the death. He wrote well and seemed to have a great handle on his own grief, and we began exchanging messages personally through email. He was military and overseas. He even arranged for us to see and talk to each other on Skye!
I was about eighteen. He was in his early twenties and a Lieutenant in the Marines! What was called a "Butterbar" with the single gold bar on his collar. It DID look like a stick of butter. I felt sorry for Butterbars. They outranked every enlisted person from Private who was classified as an E1 to Sargent Major who was E9. Every officer except other Butterbars outranked them. They had to salute practically EVERYBODY! It just was easier to raise the salute and keep it there until you clear people.
Oh, on day one, make sure you have a silver dollar on you for the Silver Dollar Salute. Right after a person completes Officers' Candidate School, the first enlisted that salutes them gets the Silver Dollar. Why? Nobody really knows! But it's an honored tradition.
This isn't a rabbit. Rabbits are often unrelated things that catch attention. This is related. I'm showing it to you, so you know my concern is well-founded.
This "Kyle" had sent me some photos of himself, and his Marine buddies and I was surprised. He was gorgeous! The "Don't Ask and Don't Tell" was gone so he served openly as what he was. He admitted to being bisexual. He said he liked me a lot. The first red flag that went up was we could never speak on the phone. It was always breaking up and dropping. We were to speak live on Skype. Again, the signal was garbled and broken. He said it was a problem with the base's Wi-Fi. My problem was that all he told me was plausible. After a month, I saw things that put holes in his story. He couldn't tell me exactly which country he was in. Fine. He was part of the Peace Keeping Force and that could have meant he was in Iraq, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia...several countries. I knew they often couldn't tell where they were. At that time, I was living both in Asheville and Charleston. My upbringing in Charleston helped. I knew several military members of services from Marines, Navy, Air Force, Army, and Coast Guard. The big red flag was when he told me he had to go to the bank. I knew for a fact that people in the military did not "go" to a bank on base. They could access their bank accounts online, and personnel didn't need to carry money. They had cards they used on the base. They could access their accounts to pay an unexpected bill at home. There were automated teller machines. Most who were deployed had that taken care of their accounts before they left. Even people that were single had assistance with that if needed. I wanted to believe him, so I waited to see if he would hang himself. It could be going to the "bank" where he was, wasn't the same thing as going to an actual bank. There were people out there, online, presenting themselves as military to con and scam people. The person I had begun corresponding with wasn't the guy in the pictures! He tried to send an image from there, but as before, it was garbled and blurry. I was told it was at the bank and almost nothing could be recognized...except one little sign at this bank. I blew it up and saw where it said clearly "FDIC." There was no bank there that was covered by the Federal Deposit Insurance. Funds for service people and those on the civil service side had their funds deposited electronically. The bank at home was covered by FDIC, but not over there.
When he asked if I could help financially, he'd pay me back he swore! There it was. His goal the whole time. I copied all the messages sent and received. Nothing was really said I was ashamed of. As Olek said about having naked pictures of him on the internet or even having sex, what did it prove? He was an adult Human male. If anyone read what I wrote to Kyle, what would that prove? I was a Human male and wanted to do what we were designed to do. We have sex and some things in my words told the reader, I knew what we did and the names for the body parts we did it with and what I understood what we did it using those parts. I sent the Internet Protocol Address I had for him, the picture he was using, and sent it all to the FBI and their department that dealt with crimes on the internet. The FBI responded back to me assuring me it was going to be investigated. I'm sure I was just one of the thousands they were researching, but within a week those emails from Kyle stopped.
I had been truthful and sent my real picture and told my real name. I wondered if he thought about it now. I'm sure he did. If he was still alive, he had to know I was the one that married into a royal family and was a royal myself. I would never know because he knew who I was, but I didn't know who he was. There was a part of me that hoped he was still alive and saw who I was now. It was petty, I know, but...he didn't lose anything by not being able to fool me. Grandpa said I couldn't miss what I never had, but I wouldn't mind if it made him squirm now. Who could he brag to? The other conmen buddies!? There was a part of me that would enjoy having him suffer a little bit.
All of that was to say, Makarovians weren't any more gullible than anyone else. I wasn't anyone's parent...not really, but I had experience in a world they had not. Isn't that what a parent is? Passing on what was learned having gone through something to prevent harm from coming to someone that hasn't? I felt protective of these people. I was that way with everyone, Grandma, Peter, Olek... Hell, I was very, VERY protective of Peter! Remember? He had this innocence I hated for him to lose.
There was this quick, deep bark. I looked down at Churchill who was looking up at Ed. He had been so quiet I'd forgotten he was here with us. Whatever he said, Ed knew what needed to happen.
"Okay," Ed told the dog and he looked up at us. "He needs to be excused."
"He knows he can't just go anywhere?" I asked.
Ed chuckled, "Yes, he does."
"Damn, that's a smart dog!" I marveled.
Ed chuckled harder, "Yes, he is!"
I'm telling you that dog arrived at a post where the metal grate was sniffed a little and hiked his leg. Grandpa said it was the way dogs left messages to each other. Pee-mail was what he called it. I knew the message Churchill left told all other dogs, "I'm top dog and this is all mine.
We had a good visit and even ate at the Sherwood Forest. It was run by the dependents of the military from Great Britain. With sandwiches called the Robin Hood (a hamburger), the Little John (a really HUGE hamburger that overtook the bun), and the Friar Tuck (chicken burger?), it was obvious! Even a Maid Marion which was smaller chicken sandwich with a sauce like thousand island dressing. You could order Robin Hood and the Merry Men! The Merry Men were crisps or chips. Crisps were room temperature potato chips and chips were hot french fries, but seasoned and crispier. All the characters in the story were up there in the form of a food item. It was all very good.
I remembered the hamburgers we had that day with Olek that day we were talking about improvements each mentioned our favorite fast-food franchise. I'm sure a Makarovian burger would be made and sold eventually.
There were other things both Generals had to do. I had sent Ed the message so he could adjust things as needed in Englaand. If he agreed. We were here, so there wasn't a rush to do something else.
General Hammond promised to keep track of Arthur Welling and keep us informed of what was happening. Why us? We were family to Olek, but not kings. Yuri was security, but Peter and I were the secured, we were not the security. There is an age difference. Peter and I were the same age as only those few days difference. Peter and I enjoyed having fun. We often were silly but could relate seriously and faced situations maturely. On the other hand, David and Edmond were serious military men in charge of so many lives, but not so grown up they didn't enjoy having fun. We met in the middle. What we were, were friends. As tense as things had been a year ago, we had melded together. That was sort of a rabbit related to the topic of what we were talking about. That relationship to the topic explained why our being told what Mr. Wells did, was something we should be kept up to date about. We said goodbye to our friends promising to not wait as long to come and see them again. That included Winston Churchill. We shook hands! He was quite an impressive dog.
I looked forward to being able to take the train, we would be back in Stryia much quicker.
Back at the palace, Peter and I went to speak with Olek. We saw Helga standing in the corridor trying to listen to the conversation happening in Olek's office through his closed door. She had a worried face.
"Helga?" Peter asked in almost a whisper. "Is something wrong?"
She looked at us and shrugged, "I have no idea!" She waved at the door. "If it was good or bad; if they were anybody else, I could tell you." She put her fists on her hips. "Does any Makarovian yell at another Makarovian?"
Peter looked at Helga curiously. "Sure."
Helga shook her head, "No, I mean, as in pissed off."
"I'm sure they do," Peter admitted. "Not Olek, though. He gets quieter. Who's with him?"
"Klaus Orban," Helga said.
Peter's face got very serious, and he simply said, "Oh." He said the name in a way that told Helga and me he understood what was wrong.
I touched Peter and made him look at me. "Now, explain what you just said and why."
Peter sighed, "Klaus Orban is from Tysa."
I had studied the Makarovian map, but I had to think.
"South and west of here..." Peter said.
Then it hit me as it came flooding back. "Yes! It's right on the border's edge that if you go Southeast not even a mile you'll be in Romania, Southwest you're in Hungary, also not a mile away."
Peter nodded, "You asked about any Makarovians who didn't like the way Makarovia was governed." He jutted his head toward Olek's door. "He's a major one that doesn't approve."
I nodded, "He doesn't support having a king?"
Peter nodded, "Not just that. He and his father..." he thought how to say whatever, "the entire Orban family were not happy with what was done in Makarovia. His father, grandfather, brothers, and sisters..."
"That's not a good trait to pass down in families," I muttered.
"Olek told me they have always been..." Helga said a word I didn't know. I used English, Ukrainian, Makarovian, and Russian. I was even getting more comfortable with Italian and Greek. I understood the pronunciation of this word was hard and glutaral, it was German, but I had no idea what she said.
Peter, however, looked at her a little surprised as an eyebrow rose, "That's a good word for them."
"What word?" I asked.
"Rührer der Scheiße," Peter said slower and turned to Helga. "Isn't that what you said?"
It sounded shorter and faster from Helga when she said whatever. I spoke no German. What did I know?
Helga smiled looking guilty, "That's close enough."
My arms went out in futility, "Which means what??" I asked impatiently.
"It's a person that stirs up shit," Helga confessed with a short laugh.
I nodded and was smiling, "Okay." A beautiful woman going to become a Queen that can cuss? I loved the contrast. I just hoped she'd stay in control with our niece or nephew. I raised my hand and used my fingers in the "give me more" motion. "I need to hear just a little more to see if what I've got so far is the correct impression about what you said."
"It means," Helga said patiently. "There are some people out there that are unhappy with everything in their lives, and they complain all the time and find fault. They never have anything positive to say and are only happy when they make others unhappy."
I nodded and grinned, "And there we go. I'm with you now."
Peter nodded, "Well, take whatever you think and give it to the tenth power." He waved at the closed door. "The Orban family are just sad and miserable. From Klaus to his great-grandfather, all they do is make everyone miserable."
"I totally get that," I said. "There are people that are not comfortable in a no-conflict situation. If there is no conflict, they create one to be in their comfort zone." I shrugged, "They are quick to lay blame and offer few solutions?"
Peter nodded, "That's right. It is our fault, and we need to fix it."
"But nothing particular?"
Peter sighed and shrugged a nod, "Everything that is wrong, yes."
I shrugged again, "This time, it is Olek's fault. The sudden change toward sudden prosperity is definitely his fault. Queen Alla and you too, Peter."
He did it again and started to shake his head and was starting to say, "No, it was..."
"I will remind you," I pulled him closer. "I don't want to hear from that Peter again. It was you that won a lot of people over to our side. The fact that people in the world know about Makarovia is all your fault. There are millions of signatures to prove they want us to represent them. How many supporters does this Orban guy have to show support of him?" I looked at Helga, "Did Mr. Orban guy say what he wanted to speak to Olek about?"
"Olek told me Klaus was responding to the press conference," Helga muttered nearly pressing her ear to the door. She looked at Peter angrily. "This is the only quiet fight I've ever heard of! No yelling? No breaking glass..."
Peter chuckled, "Peter learned it from Dad who I'm sure learned it from Granddad. To make sure the other is paying attention and listening, you speak lower."
Helga let out a quiet snort, "Is THAT where he gets it?" She shook her head, "I hate it when he does it in our..." she smiled and said, "discussions. He always does it to me. He's never raised his voice to me."
Okay, that was revealing, but I let it go. For now.
"There was a question as to why Tysa should be included with Makarovia," Peter said. "They are so close to the border of two other countries...when we were part of Romania, Hungary, and Ukraine, of course, they were included as part of us. The Soviets just included them with us. We were all three poor, but when the USSR dissolved, they hoped wanted to go back to Romania. Hungary couldn't support them, and neither could Romania."
"And not attached to Ukraine," I frowned.
"It wasn't Tysa that wanted it," Peter explained. "It was the Orbans, and they were the most vocal." He snorted and gave a grudging nod. "They did marry and had other family members in Tysa, but not quite enough." He chuckled. "When the citizens of Tysa heard what the cost would be in tax increases, they said, no way."
"Disloyalty has a cost," I nodded. "What do they have against a monarchy? Makarovia isn't that big. Great Britain is bigger. It still works."
Peter nodded, "But King William can't just declare war on someone and have it happen," Peter argued. "There are Ministers for everything. King William doesn't have absolute power."
"Olek doesn't use absolute power!" I defended.
Peter nodded, "He doesn't use it, but he CAN use it. I remind you of Penelope again."
Helga looked worried and seriously concerned, "Would Olek have done it? Would he have executed her?"
"I'm not sure that matters," I said. "He didn't do it, but he could have if he wanted to and he really wouldn't have been answerable to anyone. Not to Makarovia, not to the UK and not the United States."
Peter touched Helga gently, "Be thankful you've never heard him raise his voice." He shuddered. "It's not something you'd easily forget." He looked at me. "Remember after that attack in Boston? Afterwards? With those two from England that tried to bomb in palace?"
I nodded, "He was..." I had to think, "bone-chillingly scary. It wasn't Olek."
Peter grudged a nod again, "I can't see King William doing that." He laughed a little harder at what he couldn't believe, "I couldn't have imagined Olek doing it until he did."
"There are only a few monarchs with absolute power now," Helga said. "The only one in all of Europe that still has it on standby is Makarovia."
"Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Swaziland, and..." Peter paused to remember, "I know it." He muttered in frustration, "Oman?" He asked us.
"Is that an answer?" I asked, "It sounds more like a question." I grinned as Peter looked irritated.
"Do you know the answer?" Peter demanded.
"Yes," I nodded, "I do." I bounced once. "You are right. Oman is one and Brunei." I smiled. "There are ten other kingdoms in Europe that have kings and queens by birth."
Peter nodded again, "And you know them." It was a statement, no question asked.
"Yep," I answered. "I can name all of seven dwarves and all of Santa's reindeer." There was that look again. "Memorization of items on a list isn't hard. I use a Mnemonic Device with almost everything."
"A what?" Peter asked.
If I had used the English word or even the Makarovian, Ukrainian, or even Russian version of the word it would be the same word with only the slightest pronunciation deviation we got from the Greeks. Latin covered a lot of science terms. Sort of. This word was about memory. I repeated the word and even spelled it. "We use mnemonic devices for everyone about many things, such as learning the alphabet to the amounts on the currency," I said. "We do it in songs, phrases, or names or words to help us remember things. Acronyms!"
Helga nodded, "I did it with the Periodic Table of elements." She chuckled. "I had to."
"Sure, you did! There are so many!" I leaned closer Peter like I was confiding in them. "Chemistry is too much like math. Like math, I had to learn it for medical training. I hate them both pretty much the same."
Helga laughed lightly and Peter grinned.
"Some are remembered without me having to try," I said. "Like element symbol for gold. I was watching a rerun of the Facts of Life." They didn't show any recognition. The show was shot in the United States and in English. "You remember, Blair, Jo, Natalie, Tootie..." I said waiting for the lightbulb to come on in their eyes, "Eastland Boarding School? Peekskill, New York? At the beginning of the nineteen-eighties? Mrs. Garrett?"
Helga brightened hearing the name of Mrs. Garrett or maybe all I gave her kicked her memory. "Oh, yes. I remember now. It came to France and Great Britain." She thought a moment. "I don't know if they got it in Germany. I occasionally saw reruns of it in the United States while I was in school there."
"Great!" I said a little relieved, "I went through all this to tell you Natalie was cramming for her Chemistry Test and Tootie told her to use a mnemonic device."
Peter frowned, "She said that?"
"No," I said a little exasperated, "of course not, but it is one. The example used was a gold watch..."
"How would that..." Peter interrupted sounding annoyed.
I raised my hand and held a finger up in front of his face, "Either let me finish or die in ignorance never having known what it was," I growled. "It's your choice." I waited and he didn't even grunt, but just listened. "Tootie said, if someone steals your gold watch, you say," I switched to English, "A u, bring back my gold watch!" I shrugged and went back to Makarovian, "It works, that element I remember without trying."
Helga was now really laughing having touch us both, but it was to keep standing up. She got it. The levity wasn't what I said, but what we said to each other. Peter's face was unmoved at all. You did need a grasp of English to understand. I spoke in Makarovian explaining it, switched to English to say the line, but you had to know the English language, alphabet, and the element table to get the humor. "The periodic element Au is substituting "hey, you" in the sentence?" He was a statue. "It wasn't even slightly funny?" I asked him.
Peter did the arms across his chest with a sigh of resolve and rested his left-hand fingers tapped his chin a moment as he considered it, "I have just one thing to say..." he switched to English and said, "Gotcha!" His pronunciation of that word was flawless. No one would guess he wasn't from the West! He was as American as Apple Pie! His face was the happy Peter I knew. "Now who's being the straight man?"
He had me fooled the whole time! I know my left eye narrowed, "Why you..."
"Before you say anything," Peter grinned pulling me closer to him. "No name-calling that will reflect badly on Mom."
"So, I won't call you a son-of-a-bitch," I couldn't help but grin. "I've got three languages to pull from and there are a plethora of words and phrases in Russian! There are over two hundred! I have no doubt one will fit just fine."
Peter laughed, "Russians love to swear."
"Okay," I said. "The Orbans didn't want to live in a monarchy. How were they under Soviet control? The Ivanovs weren't responsible for any of that. If anything, they endured in spite of them. The ruling family in St. Petersburg didn't do as well."
"We were guilty of allowing that to happen, too," Peter said.
"That's ridiculous!!" I blurted louder than I intended to and was shushed by Helga and pulled farther from the door by Peter.
There had to be some major psychological issues at play here. "How many Makarovians were here in from 1900 until 1917?" It was a question I already knew the answer to. "Even if all of Makarovia stood with the Ivanovs, they couldn't stop the Bolsheviks! That would have been stupid and suicide!"
"Yes, well..." Peter began.
"Makarovians are not stupid," I said firmly and waved at Peter. "Certainly not the Russian imports. If anything, the Ivanovs kept Makarovia together from behind the Soviets and kept the Makarovian Pride going."
Peter nodded, "It doesn't make sense. They hoped we'd do like the other countries and elect a leader."
"From where!?" I asked in a near hiss so I wouldn't be overheard. "Now, I know without even thinking about it there are Makarovians who make good leaders," I paused, "Oh, wait, they ARE as governors and mayors! I will put many, many Makarovians against anyone that are pillars of the community for other countries and that includes the United States!" I folded my arms over my chest. "Mr. Orban thought a better leader could be found by a person elected?"
"I don't know," Peter shrugged.
"And he would run for election?" I asked.
"I don't know," Peter confessed. "That was never offered."
I shook my head. "It sounds to me as if this family of Orbans were and are just seeking someone to blame and the Ivanovs are the ones to blame."
We all were a little startled by the sound of Olek's office door opening. Everyone knows if you try to look innocent you look even more guilty. No one would believe the three of us "just happened" to come to Olek's office door. This Orban guy couldn't be that gullible or dense. Neither were we. Klaus Orban would know that we knew why he was here. King Olek would share what Klaus wanted with Olek and Makarovia. So, why would I even try to convince this man I hadn't tried to find out what was going on. I wasn't unbiased and was told he was a bad guy. It would be no surprise to him he had a reputation that he earned, and I had been informed about it. Meeting him would just add to that.
The end of whatever this had been, was different. Even a meeting with an adversary was normally cordial even if it wasn't friendly. The door opened and a man with dark hair at least on the sides and back of his skull had only a little gray. The hair on the top of his head was thinning, but not completely gone. You could see some skull there, but not the thick spread of youth. I could tell you he was ugly, but he was. Granted, the Orbans had an ugliness in their soul and that would show in his appearance. He was in his late forties or his early fifties. I will also say that just being a common man and not having the contact the Ivanovs did. The choicest Human Beings were not as plentiful. Meaning they didn't have access to the choicest DNA. For hundreds of years...maybe a thousand or more, kings and queens did have the selection. Mom was a former model and heading toward supermodel when she met Olek the First. She was more than just physically gorgeous. She was very intelligent! Other than that acne, Peter was also gorgeous and very intelligent. Olek the Second's mother was pretty and smart. Olek got that from both of his parents. I could go down the ancestry of the Ivanov family and say the same thing. The Orbans took what they could get as did most people in the world. That and events in life gave you a personality that will attract certain kinds of people.
Again, this isn't a rabbit I have, but an explanation. There are very few people I will say are truly ugly. Being gay, I see the beauty in many Human males. More advice from the Theodore and Katrina Box of Wisdom: Beware of people with hard faces. Klaus Orban had a hard face. His face showed he had a hard life and was bitter deep in his soul. I felt sorry for the man. Yes, I did! Who was responsible for that hard life? His mother and father? Grandparents? Was he brought up this way and they just didn't know any other way was possible?
Through the open door, the man walked out and saw the three of us. He bowed and said, "Your Highness," and was gone. No goodbye to Olek did we hear, and Olek hadn't escorted Mr. Orban to the door. Manners and decorum just were. There were things you did that were tradition where it was a kind of law. Helga and I were married to members of the royal family. Peter was born the prince he is today. Helga was married to a king! Technically, she was a Queen now! Peter said I knew almost all of the rules. It wasn't fair, but a woman that marries a king has the title of Queen. A king always outranks her. There are two kinds of Queens. Sorry, if you know all this already. A Queen Consort and a Queen Regent. At this moment, Helga was Queen Consort. Even after the year of the proposal, she will still be a Queen Consort, but also recognition of the status from Makarovians. If Peter became King (God forbid) my status wouldn't really change. I would still be a Prince Consort being married to Peter.
Queen Alla is the only one to marry, became Queen Consort, and then became Queen Regent when King Olek the First died. She ruled! When Olek the Second took the throne, she is also unique as a King's widow who was now a Dowager Queen, but still partially ruling! She was recognized as Queen by Makarovia!
In case you didn't know this already, Makarovia is very different than other countries. I touch my wedding band on my left hand. Yeah, we were a bit odd here.
Helga went into Olek's office as he stared at a large monitor on the wall behind him that showed some nature scenes in Makarovia. Olek's office was nicely furnished but hardly opulent. It had those little windows so no one could squeeze through. It was on the same level as the great area where people gathered before an event. He had two computer monitor screens.
The monitor on the wall behind him was a good monitor. High-Definition images where at the moment show a meadow of green and alive with the many colors of wildflowers. Green grass, the colors of yellow, white, pink, and purple scattered in that green. I don't know how or who put this file on the computer, but it was so detailed and just...relaxing. Calming. The mountains were in the background. The sound of the wind could be heard as the grass and flowers swayed in the breeze. I couldn't have planned it better! There was the buzzing sound of a bee was heard and then you saw her land on a flower, move around on it, and flew to another flower not seen. It was beautiful.
Olek didn't look at us, but said, "Do remember this meadow, Peter?"
Peter looked at the screen and squinted his eyes, which wasn't necessary to see the high definition couldn't be seen better. "I think so," he said studying the picture. "That's right near Rsys Lake, isn't it?"
Olek nodded, "It is." He sighed and turned around to face us.
I smiled, "It's very pretty."
Helga walked around Olek's desk standing behind to him. "Are you alright, Asshiq?" She put her hands on his shoulders from behind him near his neck.
I would make sure I was told what she called him meant.
Olek took her left hand and kissed it, "Yes." He was not very convincing. "It is always so difficult dealing with that family."
"What is the problem now?" Peter asked.
"We are embarrassing Makarovia," Olek said. "Everyone in this office is an embarrassment to Makarovia."
"We are," I asked for him to confirm.
Olek was nodding, "Showing how morally depraved we are."
"Depraved?" I frowned. "That's the word he used?"
Olek nodded, "He used perverse, too."
It was important to know what word was used. In Makarovian the word for perverse is zbochenyy. The word for depraved is rozbeshchenyy. I can give the Cyrillic spelling, too. The word choices were interesting and primarily used by the clergy.
"Olek," I began as I pondered, "You record your negotiations, right?"
Olek looked surprised, "I sort of have to." He shrugged, "If someone claims I said or promised something, I have a record of what was and is said. I have a good memory and normally remember what is said, but..."
I smiled at that, "You recorded your meeting with Klaus Orban just now." My words were more of statement than an inquiry.
"Sure," Olek nodded. "It's something Dad and Grandpa did and taught me to do to keep track of things."
"Wise men," I said admirably. "Have you ever used them?"
"I use them all the time," Olek said.
He wasn't getting the question, "Don't be obtuse." I grinned. "Have you ever let anyone else hear the recordings? Yuri, for example."
"But Olek doesn't use the recordings for anything but remind himself what was said," Peter said. "I know there was an issue with recordings in Washington in the seventies."
"There was," I nodded. "This is a totally different situation. The how, why and motivation are..." I sought a word, but said, "different."
Like the majority of Makarovians, Olek just didn't deceive! Presenting anything in a dishonest manner was inconceivable to him. He knew people there were well-practiced at telling lies, but he had it drilled into him to be absolutely honest as a king. Peter was the same way. My love of that man just grew the more I heard about Olek the First. That was why he and Helga had married like they did, and Olek wanted to be sure he told the truth. There were no other ways to be. I loved Olek the First and I had never met him. I loved his son which is no surprise to you, is it? I could not understand how everyone didn't love them. Being a member of a royal house was no assurance of any good character. Nobility wasn't something you were born with. These two Ivanov men were noble because of what they did. Yuri and Boris had it, too. All of our security agents had it. Queen Alla and Helga...noble! Mario! He was very noble.
"The reason you do it," I said to Olek, "Is to keep an accounting of promises. A kind of contract to ensure promises are kept. Not just you, but everyone that promises something to you and doesn't..." I shrugged, "Well..." I turned to Peter. "You said Klaus Orban was a major one." I turned to Olek. "How many other unhappy people are there in Makarovia?"
Olek thought a moment, "Perhaps seventy-five families."
"Yes," Peter nodded, "but Olek, the others disagreed with you about letting the foreign powers in to help. Some are not liking the sudden changes in Makarovia," Peter argued, "but they aren't against the Crown."
I bit my own cheek as I thought. "We aren't talking about people that don't agree with a decision you make." I said as I paced a little. "Everyone is not going to agree with everything. Is he a devout Orthodox Christian of any Church? A zealot?"
Olek thought again. "There are really only two churches in Tysa. Eastern and Russian Orthodox." He thought a little. "I know other groups are there, but those are the largest two."
I chuckled, "Russian Orthodox? Eastern Orthodox I get, but Russian?"
Olek shrugged and smiled, "There are a lot of Russians in Makarovia."
Queen Alla was Russian, I had a few Russians on Grandma's side of the family, Boris, Yuri...I nodded, "I can understand that. You let just one in and soon you're drowning in Russian vodka. They brought that denomination with them. I have a fondness for Russians." I gave a shrug and nod, "Was the Church the platform for the disapproval?"
"In the past, yes," Olek admitted. "His family wasn't morally superior and that was proven."
"They were Human," I said in amazement. "Who could have guessed that was even possible?" (Just in case someone out there doesn't know by now. That was extremely sarcastic.) I leaned toward Olek, "They have never threatened you, have they?"
"No."
"They blame all the bad events on you," I said to Olek.
"Yes."
"They're quick to blame AFTER whatever happens," I clarified. "Telling you what you should have done AFTER it happens."
"Yes."
"It's always wonderful how sharp vision becomes when looking back," I said. "They've never come to you BEFORE to give you the advice. Did he ever offer help?"
"No."
"If I may," I began, "I'd like to hear the recording and any other recordings by this family to the Orbans."
"Sure," Olek began typing on the keyboard and looked at what he saw on the screen. "I'll send the file to your email address."
"A person needs to be accountable for what they do and say," I said. "If all they do is point out what is wrong and offer no idea how to make it better...they are like," I thought quickly, "infants born with Miserable Baby Syndrome."
"Babies born with what?" Peter asked and Helga said practically at the same time, "I've never heard of that." Helga touched her own midsection to protect her child. She probably wasn't even aware she was doing it.
I gave a smirking smile. "It's a diagnosis Doctor Donkervoet came up with." I chuckled with a light laugh, "You won't find in any DSM, the Diagnosis and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders or the Psychiatric Disorders in Children and Adolescents." I smiled at them. "Babies can't tell us what they think or feel. After eliminating all possible physical problems such as gas or any other possible reason a child might be difficult to soothe; there's no sudden loud noises, not too cold or too hot, but the baby won't stop crying...he theorized there are a small number of babies that just can't turn everything off as they normally do and can sleep through all sorts of things from the vacuum to the television going full blast." I waved at the door that Klaus had left through. "That's him all grown up! Placing blame instead of helping to find a solution is so much easier. I say it's treason!"
Olek laughed and shook his head, "I can't charge him for disagreeing with me."
I grunted, "I suppose not," I sighed. "He has the right to be as wrong as he wants to be." I shook my head, "If we take a man up, circle the entire planet and he still insists the world is flat, that's stupid!" I pointed at the door. "He's stupid!"
"Dr. Donkervoet again?" Peter kind of asked, "Is there something I'm missing?"
"No," I answered. "You know he was my mentor, a genius, and from the Netherlands." I smiled. "I was madly in love with him," I said that so casually as a person tells you it's raining outside. Ten eyes were looking at waiting to give a punchline. I grinned, "We had a mad, passionate affair for years..." I chuckled and then tapped my temple. "In my head. He was so smart, he would miss the simple tasks, such as combing his hair, but I didn't care about that." I grinned, "He was hopelessly in love with science, medicine, and his wife; and in that order." I bumped Peter lightly, "Even if he was okay with the gender issue, I wouldn't do that to him. He was a fantasy like the lengthy affair I had with Dan Tanna in Vegas and then Spenser in Boston. Spenser for Hire?"
Peter smiled and nodded once, "So, not real."
"Which one?" I asked. "John Donkervoet or Robert Urich? I say they both were real from my perspective. I cried for days when John told me he was moving away." I shrugged. "It felt real to me." I pulled Peter in for a kiss. "If you are like Robert Urich was, do me a favor." I looked into his gray-green eyes. "Don't let me wake up. I like this dream."
Peter chuckled as he hugged me. "I'll do that, but I feel like it's my fantasy, not yours." He put his forehead against mine, "YOU don't wake ME up."
"It's a deal." I nodded and then turned to Olek and Helga. "Now, what does asshiq mean?"
Helga smiled and Olek turned a little pink. This is the odd thing. He spoke openly and honestly about things like masturbation but was embarrassed by...whatever, I didn't know the translation for.
Helga's eyes rolled and she said, "Quite literally, it means lover. The word here is used for someone who I am crazy about and going to love our whole lives."
Olek nodded but looked away. "We use several."
Helga nodded, "Like Mehbood, which means he has the heart of a poet."
I chuckled as Olek turned a brighter pink, "Oh, come on, Olek!" I waved at Helga, "She loves you! Love is an achievement. Don't be embarrassed by it."
Olek nodded, "I can't help it, but I am."
"Olek," I began and got serious a moment. "I know you to be a fair man. As a king, no one can claim to able to do the job better. I know you want justice more than anything else." I watched as he nodded. "Comparing what you do with what happened in the United States doesn't work here." I waved at him. "The biggest difference is that you are a king. Worrying if we are following the law here is unnecessary. Here, you ARE the law." Peter got me by the shoulders and walked me back and sideways to a chair in front of his desk and gently down to sit. "In the United States, there are laws about recordings used." I shrugged, "I don't know if there is a law written to regulate video and auto recordings."
Olek nodded with that short laugh, "I know there isn't."
"Meaning," I pointed out, "whatever we do will be fine. Recording someone without their knowledge no one can have it used in court," I raised the finger, "However! You do this as normal practice and operation. You do it for you! Your tapes. Not to hold it against anyone, right?"
Olek smiled, "I do."
"And you have other tapes you've made," I said. "How many?"
Olek had to think, "Quite a few. Well over a hundred."
"That's great!" I said pounding the desk once, "That's proof that this is what you do." I grudged a nod, "If it did go to court in Makarovia the would be no restrictions as to whether any tape would be admissible. I say it needs to go to court."
"Really?" Peter asked, "What's the charge? His offense is being a rotten Human Being."
I looked back at Peter, "That should be a charge we could make." I grinned. "But I don't mean a court of law."
Helga smiled, "What court then?"
"The Court of Makarovian Opinion," I smiled bigger. "We saw where there were millions of Makarovians that do approve of you and what you're bringing to Makarovia." I looked compassionately at Olek. "We now have a channel for Makarovia. We also have a website. We can load meetings online for total transparency. Honest Olek who doesn't hide things."
"When do you want to do this?" Olek asked.
"We can do it tonight," I suggested and waved at the computer monitor. "It's already digital. Loading it should be a snap." I grinned at Olek. "We don't even have to use his name. We say what day and approximate the time the meeting was," I leaned in again. "People that know him will know who it is. I'm sure he told some people what he was doing today."
"People could be unkind to him," Olek objected.
My mouth dropped open in shock, "People could be unkind to HIM!? He's unkind to YOU! YOU'RE KING!!" My head was shaking, "His family has done it for so long you have an adverse reaction before you meet with him." I waved at Peter, "He knows the history well and told me a lot! Who the Hell does he think he is? You are his King! He's your subject!! How did this thinking start?"
"It was drilled in my head my whole life," Olek said. "Dad said being king came with a lot of responsibilities. He said people had the tier of monarchies reversed." He smiled, "The people didn't work for me, I work for all of them." Olek grudged a nod. "One of the jobs is to defend them with your life." He looked at the walls of his office, "Even the palace. It's not just my home, but housing used as I work for Makarovia. We're allowed to live here to do the job." He smiled sadly, "Sometimes we have to decide things to protect people, even from themselves. You spoke about ignorance and the dangers that go with it. I see Klaus Orban has that kind of ignorance."
"I understand." And I did. "And how long do we let that ignorance excuse his treatment of you? There have to be consequences." I waved toward the outside. "We won't say anything, but other Makarovians will judge for themselves. They can hear the words and the manner in which they were given and that will give the reason for any consequence. It's time we say, that's enough." I pointed the finger toward the floor and tapped the desktop. "This stops now." I looked at Olek as he considered what I said, "They were so close to the border. They could have easily moved. Why didn't they?"
"Like many families in Europe," Olek said. "The home was passed down generation to generation. They didn't want to leave home."
"Instead," I said, "They want their home to leave Makarovia."
Olek nodded, "That's basically it."
"What's the closet town to Tysa?" I asked.
I watched as Olek attempted to come up with that answer. His darted left to right as if he was really searching real files. "Kishodos?" He asked as a possible answer and nodded suddenly, "Yes, Kishodos is the closest town."
"That's in Romania," I said to confirm.
"Yes," Olek answered.
"Fine," I stated. "As of..." I looked at my watch and pressed my calendar application. "Thirty days is usually the amount of time required. August first?" I asked but went on. "To get things changed over in Tysa. After that, no other service will be given." I held up my hand. "He pays for heat bill, that will remain. Electricity and like that are paid people regardless of their citizenship. That continues. Participation in anything Makarovian will not. He will not be asked to vote for anything Makarovian," I growled. "He won't be Makarovian."
Helga came around the desk and sat, "That sounds a little vindictive."
"Because it is," I said, "I'm pissed off! Who appointed any of them to be the king's conscience?" I took Peter's hand but looked at Olek closely. "I really appreciate how your father raised you. Many royal families themselves don't see it that way. All of the subjects are not a king's or queen's servants. The representative of any country should represent the best of the people." I pointed at Olek, "You do that, Mom does it, Peter does it..."
Olek smiled, but he was shaking his head and was about to say something. The years' difference in age between them, but I saw an expression on Olek's face I often saw on Peter.
"I know another Ivanov that has this false humility thing he does," I squeezed Peter's hand, but kept my eye on Olek. "There's a look he gets just before he does it." I grinned. "It looks a lot like the one on your face."
Peter nodded, "He's forbidden me to do it, but you're king..."
"So, I can strongly suggest you don't," I said. "You'd never call me a liar, would you?"
`No," Olek said, "I've never known you lie."
"I said you are the best to represent Makarovia," I said logically, "If you deny it in any way, you will call me a liar."
Peter nodded, "He's used that logic with me," Peter shrugged, "So..."
"I don't want anyone banished," Olek argued loud.
"You're not!" I said just as loud, "His Dad and Grandfather have never been a part of Makarovia. How can you throw out anyone who's not here?" I shook my head, "The only thing Makarovian about them is the house they have in Tysa." I rose and began to pace a little. "How well do you get along with Ludovic Ionhannis?"
Olek's eyes widened, "Fine. I don't speak much with him. He's the Romanian Prime Minister, I usually deal with Ralucan Turcan. He's the President of Romania."
Yes, I had questions about that, too. Aren't they the same office? Not really. In Romania, the President is elected by the people. The Prime Minister is appointed by the President but can't fire him. That has to be done by the Legislature. The President handles relations with other countries, the Prime Minister handles all domestic issues. "Are you friendly with them?" I asked, "More than just cordial?"
Olek shrugged, "President Turcan and I are cordial. I've had a few friendly conversations with Ludovic."
I smiled bigger, "You're cordial with President Turcan, but had friendly conversations with Ludovic." I repeated hoping he picked up the difference.
"Yes," Olek admitted with a grin, "He and I were waiting for some report that was being delivered and we got to talking..." he shrugged, "We have a lot in common."
"Great!" I said happily, "and Olek, you don't have to defend," I had to switch to English. I had had no idea what the word was in the other three, "A bromance with me."
The looks were classic! Peter understood me perfectly and burst out laughing, Helga frowned and thought about what I'd said, and Olek was getting ready to object.
I grinned at Olek, "Bro-mance." I repeated slower and Helga smiled and laughed getting what I said. I went back to Makarovian. "With you straight men that are very close friends become brothers. Once in a while, one stands above the rest. You enjoy the same things, doing the same things, and spending time together." I waved at him, "That's a," English again, "bromance!" I looked at Peter, "Like you and Ted!"
"Or you and Dr. Wonderful," Peter said back.
I looked away a bit, "Well, John and I had a bit more." I said, "There were a few erections involved," I chuckled. "All mine and untouched, but..." I looked at Peter. "What about you?"
Peter grinned sheepishly, "Not caused by him, but..." he suddenly looked at me, "Wait! You did?"
I crossed my arms across my chest, and I smirked at him. "I was in my late teens and early twenties, and he had this gorgeous science-nerd-daddy thing going on. What do you think? Shall we go over all the erections you got before me?"
Olek was nodding he grinned and waved us down, "I get it now." He stood pulling Helga close. "President Turcan is like speaking a professor at school. Lou is my age, and we like the same things."
Ludovic was from Louis, so it made sense. "Will Lou help us out?" I asked, "All he needs to do is, know about it."
"You're really banishing the Orbans?" Helga asked.
I shook my head, "No. What is your approval rating?" I looked at Olek.
Olek looked surprised, "My approval rating?" He also said it in a way that said he'd never heard of one.
"Yes," I verbally pushed. I looked between Peter and then Olek, "Should I use a language other than Makarovian? I mean the rate of approval with Makarovians about the job you're doing. The Royals in other countries have a poll that tells what everyone thinks of the job they do." I waved to the wall at the kingdom beyond. "I feel VERY safe to say almost everyone approves. The renovations, the new tunnels, new businesses, and improved quality of life make that number very high. The royal family in England has one. King William's rating is the highest of any, except for his mother. Prince Diana was over eighty percent."
"How is that important?" Olek asked. "As king you make decisions based on what you know and hope it turns out well."
I shrugged a nod, "Well, yes, it's difficult to fire a ruler, but there have been some who have lost their jobs and their lives...like King Louis XVI, or Czar Nicholas. I'm sure there are many others that were disposed of." I nodded at what I suspected. "Your approval is very high." I smiled. "I don't want to banish anyone, I'll be counting on the approval of other Makarovians, especially in Tysa, when they hear what was said, Mr. Orban will come to understand that what they've been doing for generations has consequences. We won't be doing anything to him or his family, the rest of Makarovia will. There is a tax on people who live in Makarovia." I stated more to confirm what I knew.
"As in most countries," Olek said. "It's deducted from his income from their wages."
"You do that to cover everyone to protect them from tragedy," I said just to be sure. "From fire, storms, and that sort of thing."
"You know that" Peter said, but he was nodding as he caught on to what I was saying.
I nodded, "I don't want any to hurt him or any member of his family, but there are things that will happen if he leaves the community. He's part of a community, but all standard updates will stop. No more waste disposal, he will no longer get help if there's a fire..."
`Their home could burn down!" Helga said worriedly.
I nodded, "If it was a house outside Makarovian territory, it could burn down." I hated what I was thinking, "Any lives at stake will have priority. We save lives. Then, we care for the property of Makarovian citizens. We keep whatever fire restricted to the house of Klaus Orban. We need to protect Tysa, Makarovia from Klaus Orban." I shook my head. "I don't want anyone to suffer. I don't want anyone to be mean," I pointed at the door Klaus left through. "He is going to understand enough is enough. It stops now. He can ally himself with Romania, but there's a cost. Taxes that are normally withheld won't be. The services those taxes cover will also not be taken. For a while it will seem good. Until the garbage isn't disposed of. All meetings, posts, or notifications for Tysa or Makarovia, he won't be included. I would like your friend Ludovic to present some for some numbers if Mr. Orban chooses to be Romanian."
"That's what he wants," Olek said.
"Is it?" I asked. "I'll paraphrase this, but a wise man said, frequently, what we want is not the same as having."
Olek chuckled, "Grandpa again?"
"No, as a matter of fact," I looked very serious and said, "This time, it was Mr. Spock on Star Trek." I mimicked the words of Leonard Nimoy. "It isn't logical but is often true."
Peter shook his head at his brother, "I swear, I had no idea he was a Trekkie."
"I beg your pardon," I said offended to Peter. "I like Star Trek, the original series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager...movies. I think it's a great show." I turned to Olek and Helga. "Never once have I put a Starfleet Uniform on or put on Vulcan ears. Am I a Trekkie or Trekker? I don't know."
Peter stood next to me. "Can you do that...thing with the hand?" He tried to get his fingers to separate as they were supposed to.
"Since I was six," I raised my hand in the Vulcan Salute. No struggle on my part. "Live long and prosper."
Peter looked at Olek and Helga, "I had no idea," he grinned hugging me. "I knew about Rudolph, Frosty, and the Santa Clause movies, but..."
"I think every member of the royal family and staff member be required to commit the episodes to memory," I said bouncing a little. "It teaches diplomacy and fair and equitable treatment regardless of gender, race, or even species! It is a great show! All of them!" I waved my hands out. "Hell, once they got rid of the WASP censors, they have senior officers married to members of the same gender!! They had a fit when Captain Kirk kissed Uhura! A white man kissing a black woman!?"
I had said WASP in English.
"Wasp?" Olek asked. "You don't mean the insect."
Peter smiled and answered for me, "White Anglo-Saxon Protestant." He looked at me, "Right?"
I patted Peter's arm, "Very good! You got it!" I looked at Olek. "I hope to shock Klaus Orban and get him to see reason." I took Olek's hand, "You are a damned good king. You are a phenomenal human being and I'm now related to you! You have a great perspective on how authority works! But in the end, you are the boss. All of this stops or we will have to banish him."
"Because he doesn't like me?" Olek asked.
"No," I answered. "Not just that, but because he's poison. He's poisoning everyone around him. The rotting fruit or vegetable spreading the poison ruining everything around it! To save what you've got, you need to get rid of it!"
Peter pointed at me, "THAT was something your Grandpa said, wasn't it?"
I acknowledged with a short nod, "You betcha." I looked at Olek again, "How is it he's allowed in here?"
"My family has never done anything else," Olek said, "Any citizen will be granted an audience with the king or queen." He shrugged, "Or both."
When the office door burst open, it was a little startling. Not because it happened but who had done it. Yuri was almost out of breath, but the expression was a very happy and excited one. "You're not going to believe this." He rushed to Olek's desk and grabbed a remote there. Pressing some buttons and the pretty mountain-meadow image went away and an image of a young woman, perhaps in her late twenties, smiled. Yuri hit another few buttons, freezing the image and it flickered. I couldn't imagine anyone in the civilized world didn't recognize the three letters in the boxes. BBC. Below those boxes said, "World News."
"...when a video was received over the airways." The image was an overhead shot looking down and quite a few people dancing. I recognized where the dancefloor was. The Grotto. We saw the crowd part a little as two of the figures began to dance. The song "Hella Good" began.
This was when we had been asked to do it a second time and could they film it for later. We said, yes, they could. Try as I might, I didn't fully understand modern technology, but what shown was the moves Peter and I used for our "no touch' dance. One of the first shots was off to our side showing the moves and complexity. I never saw anyone take that picture and the others. During the same dance but different angles. He hit some other buttons and a man said, "où les princes nouvellement mariés ont fait un peu d'audace et un peu risqué..." Again, Peter and I were dancing at the Grotto. The show was in French! I don't speak that one yet. Another change, but this wasn't a news program. The background setting behind the commentator was wild with colors swirling. The commentator at best was twenty-five. Unlike the other two, he wore a t-shirt, a nice one, but still a t-shirt and said, "hat die Welt wie eine Flutwelle getroffen..." It was German and the show was obviously a music entertainment program, and we did it again as we moved on the screen.
Peter waved at the screen. "Why is this important?" He saw my face and quickly nodded, "Yes, I know what you tell me. We're the first legally married couple of royalty." He was physically waving down the replies he knew were coming. "A novelty. I got that." He waved at the screen. "We were at a local club, we danced. Why did it make the news?"
"Because you two are living an extraordinary life, Peter." Mom came into the office. "I heard most everything while I was in my office." She pointed toward the wall which beyond it was her office. "As open as we are and are finding out more of the world are open is...the world as a whole is not used to seeing people like you living normal lives and doing ordinary things in extraordinary ways." She smiled as the dance on the screen continued. "I was impressed with the moves the two of you demonstrated. The novelty of the wedding, the extraordinary life and now being at the forefront of everybody's minds, they hang on everything you do." She looked at Yuri. "The Consortium isn't manned by fools, but who better to infiltrate us than the Orbans."
Olek's eyebrows rose, "I hadn't thought of that! He could have placed listening devices and cameras while here."
Helga looked frightened, "Or even bombs."
Mom held her hand up, "Don't lose perspective here. The extent of distrust with that family goes back a while. It's not widely known outside of Makarovia." She shrugged delicately. "That could be used if found out."
"The Consortium could use them to spy on us?" Olek pondered.
"Very likely," Yuri nodded. "The open-door policy used by Makarovians can easily be abused."
"Did he even once veer from his path to see you, Olek?" I asked.
"I don't think so," Olek replied.
"Okay," I nodded, "Being a rotten Human Being doesn't automatically mean he's a traitor." I thought out loud. "We don't have to take a chance that he'll find out. Starting with the taped discussion." I looked at Peter. "We know where their house is?"
"We do," Peter nodded.
"Talk with Prime Minister Ludovic Ionhannis," I smiled. "Find out if he'll go along with this. I'll post the taped conversation on the Makarovian Webpage. Only the date and time will be entered. Enough people around know he was coming here and may even know why, but not what was said."
"Be clear," Olek said to everyone. "This not because he disagrees with me."
"Does he disagree?" I asked. "I haven't heard the tape yet. They've disagreed with the Ivanovs for generations. I don't know what they are, but it stops." I pointed at a globe on a shelf. It was more for decoration and seldom used now. I turned it so Europe, East Europe, and Asia were front. "We are Makarovians. Many countries in East Europe make up our people," I grinned, "A lot of it Russian. I've not known many Russians to back down from anything." I looked at Olek and Helga. "We are telling everyone the truth. The Earth is round and part of something bigger than just this one little world. I intend to take him, show him the truth, and DARE him to say it's flat!"