Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is
Chapter: 33 The King's Conscience or a Traitor?
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)
Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex
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Peter and Eric prepare for a night at the Grotto when the palace's security is breached. Olek, Yuri, Peter, and Eric confront Klaus.
The King's Conscience or a Traitor?
"I didn't know love this intense even existed. I love you, Peter."
His usual smile was there, but with something else. "I know."
"Do you?" I sincerely asked.
"It's written," Peter nodded touching my face, "right here, plain as day." He said in English, and I swear I even heard a slight Alabama accent.
"Plain as day," I repeated, smirking a grin. "I reckon you've been hanging out with the correct sort of people." Sighing with contentment. "I was back almost ten years ago," I explained and chuckled at some memories. "One important person was taken from me before we could really put a label on us." I nodded. "Daniel." I said feeling the weight of the memory, but not with as much pain. "At that time, I loved him more than any other. And Chuck," I saw Peter's eyes narrow. "Wait, let me finish." I went on. "The problem was, he was only a little gay," I said. "He had a choice between worlds and made a choice. Did he love me?" I shrugged. "I'm sure he did, but not enough. Would it have worked out between us?" I asked. "If he really wanted it, sure." I shrugged again, "I am so in love with you and speculation is pointless. I'm never giving you up, Peter."
Peter needlessly pulled me tighter, "Good, I don't want you to."
After a good evening, a meal consumed in our rooms, I had to chuckle when I noticed a familiar icon on the computer monitor. Just like Boris had put on our computers in Boston, Peter and I could stay in our rooms and get our coffees, a snack, or even a meal.
Yes, I will admit it. These are just a couple of little things, but those little things can lead a person in the direction of false entitlement causing people to think it was because of who they were. Those two concepts were not because of the other. I wondered how Olek and Peter were taught this without getting the false concept. How would my niece or nephew learn this? By the time of the future birth, Makarovia will be a prosperous, well-known country. The Ivanov family will be better known. Famous!
The world knew and loved Prince William when he was born and a little boy. And don't forget Harry! From cute little boys, to teenagers, and young adults; people followed their every move! William became a heart-throb. So did Harry! If their mother hadn't stepped in and demanded her sons to be left alone, God only knew what would happen. She was another Mama Bear. We saw the boys on television, and they were well behaved and, though not shy, they didn't have the "come at you" approach with the media. The cameras had always been there and always would be.
The truth came out about them. They were "handfuls" when they were little. That sounds harmless and cute, but I understood the need for nannies and a fresh one or two every eight hours. Fresh, well rested blood was needed. I keep going back to them because they are from the largest empire in the West. The royal family had jobs. My niece or nephew would have jobs...with Makarovia's government. All Makarovian citizens worked for Makarovia at one time in their life.
Helga could be just a queen, but she was an Engineer. Could she do both? We'd see.
Peter and I came to get Breakfast...and coffees. Peter and I sat at the table as Helga, Mom, and Grandma weren't exactly conversing quietly, but rapidly going from Makarovian to English, to German, to Russian...how did anyone keep track? The new member of the family will be speaking all of them and more. There was no other choice. It was amusing that children taught several languages, often confuse which one to speak when without them even knowing. Like I had done on the Duchess switching from English to Makarovian! I also told Peter what Grandma and Carla (Ms. No-noise Landlord) had used an almost secret language together after a decade apart and went right back into it. The ladies here had moved their chairs close together for a purpose, which I think we're seeing now.
"Good morning!" Peter said to Olek and jutted his head slightly in the ladies' direction, "Can we know what that's about?"
Olek had smiled and nodded when we came in. He was busy with his Makarovian Hash! Sausages, the cut-up links, ground pork patties, and meat throughout it. Based loosely on Ukrainian Breakfast Hash which was really sort of potluck but had some Romanian and Hungarian spices to give it a unique taste. Grandma, who was raised in Kiev loved it more than Ukrainian Hash. It was Boris' Creation. Delicious. Those three women hadn't even looked up yet.
Olek sighed and finished chewing...whatever. We each had good manners attached to us surgically at an early age. He nodded and swallowed, waving at them with the fork still in his hand. "The Proposal." He answered simply.
I was puzzled, "Okay. You told everyone you were doing it, so...?"
Olek nodded, "Right." He put another bite in and began chewing again, but slower as he thought. "Helga and I are married now."
"So, you aren't proposing?" Peter asked carefully. If only to be sure he got it right, "because it's already happened."
"Between Helga and me? Yes." Olek nodded instantly, "With Helga and Makarovia? No." He shrugged. "I suggested I Propose to her to become Queen." He waved again at the women at the table with his empty fork. "Then this began."
"How long ago?" Peter chuckled.
Olek glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes?"
Helga wasn't hiding what the other ladies were saying and turned directly to us. "History tells of one couple that were married that sat on the Makarovian Throne, but she was not accepted as Queen. I am not going to be the second one not Queen while married to the King!" The others nodded at what she said.
"How do they do that!?" Olek asked no one and anyone with a possible answer, "They were engrossed in a conversation, yet heard us clearly."
I chuckled. "Evolution," I answered simply taking Peter's and my plate to the silver-covered serving containers. I wasn't serving Peter. I was going for food and knew what he liked. He went for the coffees and wasn't serving me. We were both going somewhere the other would want some of, so why not bring whatever back?
Peter turned as he fixed his own coffee as he spoke to one of the serving staff. That staff remembered assuring Peter they all knew what I would like. So did the palace staff. A cold vanilla latte would never just happen to be around. He finished his own coffee, the staff he spoke with came with my precious fluid and Peter took that one for me, thanking the server. "Of course, you have an explanation for what you said and will no doubt share with the others in class."
I grinned putting a steaming plate down for him. "I don't have to and you can live on in ignorance..."
Peter lowered his head but kept his eyes on me. "Eric," He said my name slowly.
I shrugged, "It's a theory mostly, but makes sense. Evidence gathered from what's around..."
"Eric," Peter said slowly again, but harder and still patient. "Less science and just tell us."
"Women can segment their minds," I sat thanking Peter for my latte. "Back with the Hunter/gatherer thing for Humans and even before that. The male hunted, the female gathered..." I waved my hand, "whatever. The male can see more detail and track prey. The female had to learn to segment their minds. While she gathered needed items to consume like plants of whatever, she would secure her child or take the child with her. Plants to eat, for medicinal purposes or anything needed gathering. Now, women do it while doing laundry, cooking dinner, watching the child and what they are watching on television, and talking on the phone." I held my hands up. "That's a stay-at-home parent." I chuckled again. "We had a lot of family back then, but no one knows. It's just a theory." I looked at Grandma, "Women make better pilots because of it."
Grandma turned, "If you're going to say what I said." She insisted, "We make better passenger plane pilots, men are better at combat flying. Women see the dangers quicker knowing how to avoid endangering passengers, it's in our natures. Men find targets."
I waved my hand at her, "See? An example of the segmented mind!" I sat back in the chair. "It's just a theory."
Mom smiled, "You said you plan to honor the traditions."
Olek's smile was a little chagrin, "Yes."
"And you are!" Mom said and physically waved what she just said away. "Every couple is different..." she smiled at Helga patting her hand, "Not you, Dear, but you're not a young man, Olek."
Olek's left eyebrow rose at that, but he was amused.
Helga's head went as she laughed sardonically, "I'm not young." She looked at Olek. "I even mentioned before it happened," she touched her abdomen, "I'd rather have a child while still young enough to keep up." It wasn't even something as she was aware of perhaps. She knew her child was there. "My mother had to have a hysterectomy at fifty-three but had her menses until that time. Her mother went through menopause at fifty-two." She shrugged, "It will be easier to have a baby sooner."
I was nodding as she spoke.
"You know that, too." Peter looked at me and confirmed what he knew.
I looked back at him, "Yes. Why does this always surprise you?" I shook my head, "I have book knowledge, Peter. Knowledge from experience is nonexistent." I waved at Helga. "She's healthy and, unless she says otherwise, in good shape." I shook my head. "Modern science has made it possible for women to have children the first time safely in their fifties."
Helga chuckled with a nod, "I'd rather that not be me."
Mom chuckled with her, "It helps to have energy to keep up with all children." She said smiling but looked at Peter.
Of course, Peter's face was totally innocent as he mouthed, "Vooz? Ya?" In Makarovian, that meant, "Who? Me?" Pressing his hand to his own chest. I would have to guess, but Makarovia might have had a handful of their own. Just as Wills and Harry had been in England. In fact, I'll wager that coronet I was to wear that Peter did cause trouble. He was a boy who dropped mice down blouses of potential girlfriends for Olek. He was an angel! (Okay, just a minute. I could barely keep a straight face with that.)
"We're going to broadcast this Proposal on the Makarovian News Network," Helga said, "We've had the first Proposal to a Commoner on file, who is also the first same gender Proposal. All of the other countries will be told, but this will be the first Makarovian broadcast spoken in Makarovian by Makarovians!"
I smiled hearing that. "The other countries?"
"They are free to come or go," Mom stated simply. "They can cover it, but it will be in Makarovian."
"Not everyone can translate Makarovian yet," Peter pointed out. "Even if they can speak and translate Ukrainian it would be difficult."
"I would think so," I nodded. "Live broadcasts of events like games are simply closed captioned for the deaf," I shrugged slightly, "It takes a few seconds to type the message spoken even by computer." I agreed. "Even if what's spoken and read is the same language!"
Peter agreed, "Translating what you hear in a language and written in another, keeping with rules of the other language's noun, verb, adjectives, or adverb agreement for the sentence to make sense..." He shrugged, "That would be a challenge!"
I was nodding harder, "For a Human Being!" I looked at Olek. "Isn't there a non-Human translator the United Nations uses?"
Olek nodded and said, "eLUNa." He chuckled at our faces and spelled it, in English. "Little E, capital L, U, and N, and the small A." He shook his head and looked at Peter, "And no, I don't know what they stand for. It's part of an interface program anyone can get and use. It's a Computer-Assisted Translation."
I nodded, "And that works better with use."
Olek nodded, "Right."
I shrugged, "Then we'd better get busy."
Olek chuckled, "Yuri's already working on it."
"Right," I said the same way Olek had.
"I left President Turcan a message to contact me Monday morning," Olek explained. "I also sent word for Ludovic Ionhannis to be on that call and that it was more of an internal matter." He waggled his eyebrows. "It might just be Lou."
"You only hope," I chuckled.
Grandmother got a look of confusion and said, "I missed something here." She pointed at us.
Olek said, no. Peter, Helga and I said, yes.
Mario came in a little swifter than he usually does. It was amusing as the many voices here greeted him and the many ways he greeted back. I wasn't totally devoid of Italian growing up as you know. Daniel and his family taught me some, so I was familiar with it. Buongiono was good morning. How many people say exactly that to friends or family in English? He knew us! "Giorno!" He greeted using just the word morning, or "Ciao." "Mornin'" or "Hi!" were the direct translations.
Mario greeted Mom kissing her quickly and sat at a place he left earlier.
"Mario." Peter growled out in English. "I love you. You know that, right?" He kept his dark look fixed on Mario.
"Yes." Mario answered cautiously knowing there was more. He looked at Peter uncertainly.
"Right now," Peter continued, "I hate you."
Two gasps were heard by me and a surprised look on Mom. Peter was getting good at playing innocent, but not that good.
"Peter?" Helga began trying to understand.
Peter held his hand out in Mario's direction. "Well, look at him!" He looked at his watch, "It's still morning! Clearly, he's been down before Eric and I were and yet..." He used the word "yet" with emphasis, "he looks like a million Euros!? How?"
Mario's face brightened as he chuckled as he nodded for the compliment. "Thank you." He did look like millions of whatever currencies is used. Neat, well-groomed, and even in his casual clothes were pressed and neat. I couldn't see him in jeans or t-shirt. He wore nice dark colored slacks and a polo-type shirt of a color I wouldn't have chosen. It wasn't orange or pink, but both? How? What do you call it? It did bother me enough to look it up later, but I remember no name. I'm not that gay! Maybe Jori knew. Mom said something which had Mario nodding who smiled at us. "My sister Maria and Alexi are coming at the end of the week."
I knew my head shot up and I couldn't help it, "Really!?" I blurted. "We can meet Aunt Maria and Uncle Alexi!?"
Mario nodded, "And hopefully my two children and their spouses."
"Cousins!" Peter grinned. "I can hardly wait!"
Olek nodded, "We have the room."
Mom and Mario were getting married. We all knew that. However, Mom and Mario weren't doing a formal Proposal. Mario would still be welcome to come and go from Makarovia at any time. If he wanted to be Makarovian, we certainly would let him. Mom would remain what she was, a Queen. If any country were to question her about what country she was from, Makarovia would be the loudest stating she belonged here. As obscure as most saw Makarovia in the past, Peter, myself, Olek, Helga...all of us were known today by sight! Mom was stepping down, gently away from royal life in Makarovia. You saw this written before. She wasn't abandoning the people. She was just stepping back. She had been a Queen in one form or another for about thirty plus years! She deserved the time off. Mom and Mario were marrying when they told us when and where. A destination wedding. For us, Mario was family now.
Things were hardly anywhere near finished. Yet, I was sensing a conclusion approaching this year. Adding Mario's family sounded good, but we didn't know them. Did they want to be included? I felt Maria would fit well. Her husband? I don't know. Mario had a son and daughter by his wife. How were they raised? Mario was raised hidden from the real world, or rather, the real world was hidden from Mario. For safety. Maria was about to become a nun! She was sheltered her whole life! That was certainly hiding something. Again, safety was most important. I felt the Ivanovs, and the Bassos were rare.
I wouldn't run from seeing my old high school friends again. Hearing what they thought then and now would be eye opening. I wasn't afraid of them. Not one of them could hurt me. Only one person said I was gay. Me. I said it. Telling the world would be pointless because they knew! I couldn't be embarrassed. I didn't know about Ashton and Chuck. Were they still together? I hoped so. If Chuck was running for office somewhere and if Jackie wanted to hurt him, the news could be harmful. The one statement Ashton made to Jackie was "I know all of it." I didn't believe Ashton or Chuck would let themselves be bullied. Chuck could look extremely menacing on the field. Ashton had proved she could be equally, if not more menacing one on one.
Am I done? You must be joking. We wanted to see if that Jon Flemming guy who worked for the Military Intelligence General Hammond said wasn't MI6 could get more from the prisoners. Yuri was flying to Athens to get Cosmo and Mikell to bring home. Olek needed to talk to his friend Ludovic Ionhannis who was Prime Minister of Romania and confront Klaus Orden. It was going to be a busy week! This was Saturday and there were many things to do. Everyone pretty much agreed to do our own thing. Yuri and Boris were going to be going back to Boston in a week, which Boris was excited and worrying about. Olek and Helga were doing the Proposal the next Saturday, so Yuri and Boris agreed to stay until after that.
Later that evening, Peter and I were planning to go to The Grotto. We had Mercea, Alec, Stepan and Vesil going with us. Rolph was coming Monday to greet Cosmo and Mikell when they arrived. I was not new to the palace, but I have never had this happen before. Peter's and my security were not wearing the dark suits but were armed. Just in case.
"Olek!!" A male voice cried as the sound of feet thundered in the hall. "Olek!" Our door slammed shut on its own and a loud "clunk" was heard as heavy sound of bolts furthered securing the door. No one shut it, but it was securely shut.
I looked at Peter, "What just happened?"
All four of our security agents touched an ear on their heads to hear whatever was being said. Whatever it was had all the signs of an alert. Just, no flashing red lights or klaxons were going off.
Alec nodded at what he heard, "There's been a security breach." He pulled his gun from its holster as he reported going to our door and just stood there. "The two of you are safe and will remain that way. Remain put!"
"A breach? Up here!?" Peter balked questioning. "That was right out there! Someone shouted Olek's name. Why?" Peter waved at the corridor, which we couldn't get to now.
"Who?" I asked equally as loud. "We've got so many after us now."
Peter nodded, "Again, up HERE? How!? Is Olek safe?"
Stepan had gotten closer to me, Vesil had gotten closer to Peter. Mercea was ready to backup Alec. All their guns out and ready.
Someone had turned "secure" on somewhere. The palace was now in "Safe Mode." There were upgrades to the whole palace and those upgrades included the security system. Like the house in Boston, every room was a safe room. The walls were stone and hard to breech. The wooden doors were thick. (I would find out that under that thick wood was re-enforce metal that could withstand a bomb's blast!) This was the palace! This was also the royal residence floor. Getting up here I would have said was impossible, but someone or something had done it. Even the best guarded residences got breached. I'm doing it again, I know, but who else do I compare this to? A man broke into Buckingham Palace, woke the Queen at 2am and had a chat with her about the problems he was having while she was in bed. Honestly! Look it up!
The person this time was apparently looking for Olek.
"How will we know?" I asked, waving at the door. "There was a large clunking noise, was that..." I did my hands to show something sliding into place.
"That's right," Alec nodded. "Some heavy metal braces slid to add security."
I thought that was a bit much, but they wanted to be sure.
"Are they telling you anything?" Peter physically asked for my hand, for his own sense of security. "Is Olek alright? What about Helga?"
Alec nodded as he listened, "Yes, they got him. Now they're doing a more thorough search of the palace to be sure."
"Him," I said to confirm. "Everyone else is safe?"
Alec grinned, "King Olek and Queen Helga are fine. They're all fine. He was here yesterday and saw His Majesty."
"Yester..." Peter started. "Klaus Orden?"
Alec nodded, "I think so. He got as far as he did because of yesterday. He just ran up here."
That made more sense. "Fine," I said, "Can we get out? I may have caused him to do this."
"There is a way out if needed," Peter stated with no question asked. There had to be.
I noticed on our dark computer monitor screen that a red light blinked, and I never noticed it before. The monitor was at rest, nothing should have been on it. But, in the lower right corner a red light blinked.
I walked over and hit the spacebar making the screen return to full brightness. Across the screen was written: Porushnik. Zberigaite Spoky. (Cyrillic doesn't post on Nifty) "Intruder. Remain Calm." I gathered that on my own. The message was in Makarovian. Yuri knew Peter and me, knew what we would do. I clicked on the bottom where I saw Yuri's eye. Nothing else, just his one very small eye. How to override the secured lockouts came up. I did it and heard the "clunk" again.
I turned to Peter, "Okay," I growled slightly, "A new rule we'll make everyone follow. Even Yuri!" I saw Peter's eyebrow rise slightly amused and I said, "No one adds anything to our system without telling us."
Peter nodded a shrug, "That seems reasonable to me."
Alec, Mercea, Stepan and Vesil assumed positions around us. Two before us and two behind us as we went through the deserted corridor. The look wasn't real? You know the look as many law enforcement officers approached stealthily on television and guns raised by their head and held. Cool and all that. No holding one hand with the other, but their guns were out and ready to use. Guns. I like guns. The way I feel when I hold one. That's why I refused to do it. It was too tempting.
I saw Mercea hold his ear again and nod, "They've taken him down to the holding cell." He reported, "That's downstairs..."
"We've been there once," Peter said. "Unless they've moved it, we know."
We walked down and heard a different sort of man now. The soft-spoken man was replaced by someone clearly very upset and spoke in near panic. "...my home. I tried to ignore the phone, but they've sent rocks through the windows while chanting this...whole...get out...garbage at me, my wife, kids...why did he do it?" He asked the people holding him in the cell now. "He put our conversation on that website! Why?"
"Why not?" Peter asked, coming behind the men who were both guards and security agents. "Was anything added or taken out of the conversation?" He maneuvered his hand in the air, "or altered in any way? That WAS the unedited conversation with Olek."
"And for the record," I added looking at the guard in the uniform that said he was guard with this holding area. "This is being recorded, isn't it?"
"Yes, Your Highness," the man said with a bow. "It's standard procedure." He pointed at cameras at two places in this cell. "Any time someone's brought in here, they record it."
I nodded smiling, "I like the standard procedure."
"Impartial witnessing," the man explained further. "If a prisoner says we did something, we had it on record to confirm or deny it."
"Nice planning!" I said, "You keep this how long on file?"
He shrugged, "Six months if nothing happened, a year until it's seen by the courts and forever if something did happen."
I looked back at Klaus, "And yours was the only recording?"
"No," Klaus replied. "Three others were there, I was told."
"No," I smiled. "There were five others. King Olek knew about the recordings but posting it on the Website was my idea." I got a little closer to the bars. "I also know only King Olek's name was written on the video file, not yours. Just the additional date and time of the meeting."
"Everyone knew I came here yesterday to see King Olek," Klaus argued. "I even told people what time it would be!"
"I see," I nodded again, "but that's still not anyone's fault but your own."
"What were you planning to do?" Peter asked and thumbed in the upstairs direction. "You were caught in the corridor on the king's floor."
"Get him to take it down!" Klaus was near panic again.
"Why?" I asked. "It happened. Ignoring the truth, it is no longer an option."
"What happened to cause you to come again?" Peter asked.
"It started with a neighbor," Klaus said. "He has one of those new computers, heard the recording and came over and hit me!" However, we were to react, we didn't, so he added, "Several times!"
Peter shrugged, "And?"
"My ex-wife hated me anyway, but now is refusing to let my children talk to me!" Klaus said. "Rocks thrown through the window! Lining the sidewalk as I go down the street telling me to move..."
"And it doesn't make sense to you they might feel this way?" I asked. "Don't you understand they don't agree with you?" I said plainly. "You insulted a king! Their king." I waved behind us. "I hoped something like this would happen, I just didn't expect it so quickly."
"For the assault on you personally," Peter said. "I am willing to apologize. On behalf of those in Makarovia who did this, I'm sorry. If you can prove who, when, and how: prosecute them!"
"I might lose more than a house, but my job and family!" Klaus wailed.
"Well," I said. "Olek's speaking with the Romanian Prime Minister Ludovic Ionhannis on Monday morning." I smiled. "We can't just leave you with no country; we're asking PM Ionhannis to take you as a citizen." I chuckled with a bounce. "You won't be Makarovian anymore. You'll be Romanian."
Klaus' eyes widened, "You're kicking me out!?"
Peter shook his head, "Not at all! We're setting you free. You and your family have lived in Tysa for generations! We can't take that away from you."
I nodded, "The house tax will not have to be paid this year." I chuckled, "Not to us, at least. We'll have the numbers for Romania coming this week."
"The house is yours," Peter nodded. "You will now be a remote property for Romania."
I saw Klaus' wide eyes widen even more.
"Services provided by Tysa or Makarovia will stop, though." I added. "You will no longer be allowed to vote on any Makarovian matter." I shrugged. "You will no longer be Makarovian and no longer is King Olek Ivanov available for you." Seeing his mouth drop open and remain open was what I hoped for. This was the Confrontation.
He was gaping at me in shock, "You're throwing me out of Makarovia."
"You left Makarovia!" Peter said angrily pointing at Klaus as he approached the bars. "Your father, his father, grandfather...not one was a part of Makarovia!"
I could hear the heat in Peter rise in his voice. Remember that poor pen? I touched Peter's hand gently and said to Klaus. "You still don't see the cause and effect of this?" No one is that thick in the head. "You said some things that caused this and this is the effect. Did you think what you were doing was constructive?"
Klaus shook his head, "We always did this!" Klaus circled a little in the cell. "Dad, Granddad, and Great-grandpa said we were the King's conscience."
"Because the one King Olek has alone isn't enough," I squinted my eyes at him.
"You spoke of the moral corruption my brother showed the world," Peter said. "I challenge you to find any politician or leader more honest than my brother Olek."
I shook my head, "And we weren't the only ones to object." I said. "Other Makarovians heard and didn't like what you said."
"What the Hell?" Olek said behind us as he came in.
Peter grabbed Olek and hugged his brother hard in relief. He was alright. No one had been in the corridor when Peter, our agents, and I got free. We didn't even know if anyone was in their room. Peter, I, and our agent friends were going to The Grotto. A night/dance club? It was past sundown, but not late.
Yuri was behind Olek. Naturally. He smiled at me quickly, but his face returned to the scowl he had.
I looked back at Klaus. He was male, obviously. He was about Olek's age, but he had a rough life. It said that on his face. I liked men. I found something attractive about almost all men regardless of their age. Was I so bothered by what Klaus had done I couldn't see anything else? People can do ugly things, sure, but... As with most people in this part of Europe, he had dark hair and dark eyes. Was his hair black? There was gray in it, but not all over. The years had been very generous with Olek, but not to Klaus. It is possible, however unlikely, he didn't think he'd done anything wrong. Like the person singing next to you thinks they sound great when in reality they can just only carry a tune in a backpack. Until they hear themselves. I couldn't really stand to hear myself speak. Sing? Forget it. Most people can't. Video recordings are often shocking because we don't see or hear what others do! Suddenly, the nasal toned...all sorts of flaws we now see, and hear but had not realized were there. To be blunt, how we often see of ourselves mentally is rarely what's there. It's a shock to see that. "Did you hear the meeting with King Olek?"
Klaus shook his head.
Maybe he didn't know. Helga even commented his manner was odd. Quiet. No anger or rage in his voice. There was emotion a few minutes ago, so he was capable. It had gone on for four or five generations! I've also said that Makarovians were not stupid, just a bit unsophisticated. Simple? Sure, but not malicious. They were isolated often.
"My brother is a man of integrity!" Peter growled at Klaus. "Morals!? How many grandchildren has your daughter given you now? Three?"
"Four," Klaus confessed sadly and slumped.
Peter nodded, "I knew of the three!" He looked at me. "All three have different fathers! She married the father of number three after their daughter was born."
I know Makarovia was a small country, but... "Wait," I said quietly and quickly holding my hand up to stop Peter. I kept my eyes on Klaus. A person can hide many things. An actor will make you believe what you see and hear is real. "You don't rehearse what you're going to say in your head?"
"Why?" Klaus asked.
This was different than I anticipated. My credentials to do this didn't exist. I didn't get the feeling he realized what he'd done. I am no fool and not tricked or suffered a con job very often, but a good conman would probably make headway with me at first. If the con artist wasn't they'd be looking for other work.
Every country had smart people, not so smart people, and ignorant people. Ignorant; not stupid. We had them in the United States. Not rednecks, that's different. People that just didn't know because they hadn't been exposed to something. There was the country's size to consider. Even some smart people are ignorant until they find out.
"No one told you to come," I said to qualify.
"No," Klaus frowned. "Who would?"
Peter and Olek were looking at me with curiosity. Yuri was smiling. He knew what I was doing.
"No one?" I asked to be sure.
"No."
I suddenly felt someone put a hand on my left shoulder, grabbing my shirt more than me. "Ooh!" I involuntarily let out.
Olek looked at Klaus, "Excuse us, we're going to talk. About you." He pulled me out in the corridor.
I had let out a little sound of surprise, but I was never worried. He wasn't angry with me. Peter and Yuri came with us. Olek only scared me once when he had the gun against Penelope Baldwin's forehead,
"Out with it," Olek said quietly so not to be overheard. "What are you feeling about this?"
"Olek," I began to remind him I wasn't a psychiatrist, psychologist, or even a therapist.
"I know that." Olek assured me, "but you have a track record of being right about things like this. As my friend and now my brother. I listen to your advice." He shrugged. "So, advise me."
"I might not be right, but..." I said. "I don't want to advise something that gets people hurt or killed."
Olek nodded, "I know that worry well." He chuckled touching me gently on the side of my face. "I meant what I said. You're right so often, I'd be a fool to not listen." He thought about how to make himself clear. "You have an intuition into the hearts of people." He chuckled. "You see and understand. You're...like psychic or something."
I began doing the Ivanov circling pace as I thought out loud. "Forgive me, but isn't Tysa a small town?"
Olek nodded, "Just one thousand eleven hundred and six citizens at the last counting."
"Okay," I nodded. "That was after the turn of the century."
It was making sense. I know, I'll tell you what makes sense in mere seconds. "Were there more at one time?"
Olek thought, "Yes. During Soviet control and when we were a part of Romania."
"Orden is a Romanian name, isn't it?" I really asked just to confirm what I knew. "The family moved to Tysa at those times?"
Olek's head did the backup thing Peter did as he thought about something he hadn't before. "Sure," Olek nodded. "It was a century ago, but Romania ran low on coal. Europe ran low. Tysa had plenty of Lignite..." he looked in my eyes. "Do you know brown coal?"
Everybody knew coal was black. There are many subjects I know almost nothing about. Geology is one I have just enough, so I shook my head.
Olek smiled, "It's very soft dirt and rock under the peat." He smirked. "It's the last choice for combustible rock, but it will burn. You know the winters here. Brown coal produces little heat, but it's better than nothing."
Peter frowned. "What are you saying?"
I held my finger up. "What if they never wanted to be Makarovian?"
"What!?" Olek blurted.
"Wait," I said quickly but patiently. "I can't explain it all at once." I held my finger up to Olek, "And it's all just a theory until we confirm it." I cautioned. "Along with maps I did read up on history a little. I read about the Coal shortage at the turn of the twentieth century. Coal was the only real heat source other than trees. I go around thinking countries are always the same," I said, "but they're not. When the coal shortage occurred back in nineteen...whatever, World War One was just beginning. At that time, part of Makarovia was Romanian. Did that include Tysa?" I asked them. I threw my hands up in frustration. "I'm working on that theory." I turned to Olek. "You said the house was in their family a while. How long?" I asked. "Often when countries are moved, the borders bend and warp. Was Tysa a Romanian village before?" I looked at Peter and Yuri. "I'm considering mental illness, too. At the worst, a personality disorder." I threw my hands up again. "It could be a cluster of personality disorders." I looked at Peter. "Dr. Phil McGraw taught me that one on the show Dr. Phil." I explained quickly. "They can be passed down in families genetically." I shrugged a nod, "That and the combination of thought, emotion, and behavior is learned. Environment..."
"They aren't Makarovian?" Yuri stated clearly.
I hissed uneasily when he said that. "I'm saying...Klaus' dad, or rather great granddad might not have approved of Tysa becoming Makarovian. That knowledge could be passed on father to son. I suggest we give them an option. Makarovian or Romanian? It's their choice."
"They had hatred passed down?" Olek asked.
"The emotion maybe," I nodded. "Did the source get passed down? This is guesswork!" I did it again and approached Olek. "I could be so off base, but something wasn't adding up with Klaus! What grade did he graduate from? Did his father, grandfather or great grandfather even go to school during the winter?" I asked loud. "I need a history!" I thumbed back at the holding area. "I don't really feel like I'm speaking to a member of Mensa!" Of course, I don't have to tell any of you about the International Organization of people that score over one hundred and fifty on their intelligence quotient. They occupy the top two percent of humanity. I'm not a member either. Oh, well. I have a problem with spelling. (duh) Einstein had trouble with simple arithmetic. Who cares?
Mental illness is now a hot topic today. How many times have you heard bipolar this or manic that today? Every child seems to have ADHD or something. We knew about senility for a while and now there's Alzheimer's and dementia along with all the wonderful health issues with aging. It sucks! I'm wary taking the next breath. (Like I can stop.) I'm still planning to live forever.
"Simple behaviors are taught," I shrugged. "Such as how to eat. Chew with your mouth closed, no slurping, napkins in laps, no elbows on the table...many others! Lessons in parenting and emotions are shown." I waved in Klaus' direction. "I need time with him!"
Olek nodded as he absorbed what I said. "You have to agree, what he did wasn't right."
"Oh, HELL NO!!" I agreed. "That was so wrong, but I think he'll see that."
Olek squinted, "I never really believed in fate before, but somehow," he reached back and brought Peter close to himself, "Peter was motivated to go West to get that education. He was assigned a project partner who spoke enough Ukrainian to get by and became fluent in Makarovian in a matter of weeks! They fell in love." Olek smiled. "You were destined to be here."
I began shaking a little. "I could be wrong." I said weakly. "When I first came up with this plan, I hoped it would work as it has..."
Olek nodded, "You were right again."
"I don't want anyone hurt by my bad advice," I explained. "Lives will depend on my decisions."
Olek smiled compassionately. "I know." He nodded. "One of the biggest concerns I have are just that. Am I deciding what's best for me or for Makarovia?" He hugged me. "I'm so happy that's a worry for you, I would be more worried if you weren't."
Peter laughed, but it was softer, a more understanding laugh. "He does, believe me. He always questions who he is to us to make any decision."
"You're a Makarovian!" Olek stated firmly. "Even before the wedding! You were meant to be here. Now," he smiled. "I am fine dealing with the powers of the West, but you...went in and made friends of those sent. General Burke and General Hammond were friendly, and I say are now real friends, because of you."
I was becoming embarrassed, "Stop." It was fine to have someone to speak of faith in your abilities. I'm glad he trusted me. Too much of this, I'll start to believe it. The sense of entitlement and that's when mistakes happen. A king, queen or any other leader who loses the focus on people is doomed. King Louise some number from France was one and many others.
Another of those tidbits of gold wisdom passed to me. It's great to give compliments. If you mean it and it's sincerely given, be gracious with the compliments. But! (Did you really think I created these dramatic moments on my own?) Also, learn to take and accept them just as graciously. You know when someone's giving them to get something from you. I'm not talking about them when Olek gave me his compliment.
A compliment given after you have done something well and deserve it, take it!
What Olek was telling was sincere! There was no building up that would be taken down.
Anyone could see I was moved by what he said. He meant it. Olek said. "Never again question who you are. You are Prince Eric Ivanov of Makarovia. We'll make that a new rule."
"There you go, Olek," Peter chuckled. "Make it a rule. He can really understand and follow that easily."
"When I ask for input," Olek smiled, "I know who all of my advisors are. You are one! I trust you. You don't just give your opinion but tell me how you see it based on available data and give a probable conclusion." He did the futility shrug. "I've lived here my whole life and never before ever considered what you just said."
"You were busy," I said with a shrug and smile.
He knew he gave that as an explanation for why somethings didn't get done. "Is it true? Let's find out!"
"He's right," Peter said. "Surnames come from other countries. We have plenty of Russians!" His gaze on me softened and he touched me gently. "You've worked on me," Peter said. "I need to work on you to make you comfortable with who you now are."
"I do need the work, apparently," I nodded. "I was taught I was no better than anyone and not beneath anyone."
"And that still is true," Olek smiled, "but no one else is here. You are. For a reason."
"I'm just not used to it." Things needed to progress. "Up until the mid-nineteen-forties there was Prussia and the Austrian-Hungarian joint power. I'm surprised there is more German spoken in East Europe."
Olek chuckled again. "We speak German a little, but Makarovia has always been on the edge. Romania had been the eastern most prominent Provincial/State. Just missing us. We were part of Ukraine then."
"No wonder you all speak so many other languages." I sighed. "I love speaking with all of you, but we're not getting answers here."
Olek nodded, "He stays tonight." He said firmly using his index finger as if instructing me.
"Yes!" I replied nodding in agreement. "Oh, absolutely."
"Technically," Olek said. "I can keep him here until he dies of old age, but..." he looked at Yuri and Peter, "one day? Two?" He looked at me. "They hold them for three days in the United States."
I nodded. "If they are having difficulty building a case or he is withholding something..." I agreed.
Yuri frowned. "He stormed into the palace," he pointed out the gravity of what Klaus' had done, "he sought out King Olek, but we only have his word about why. He could have meant to do more. We don't know until we learn to read minds."
We stepped in the holding area again. Klaus had gotten tired of standing and sat on a bunk in the cell. He stood when we came in.
"You're throwing me out of Makarovia?" Klaus asked again.
"Isn't that what you want?" Yuri asked. "To not be Makarovian?"
"No!" Klaus said quickly. "I did what I was taught to do."
"Telling your king all he did wrong?" Peter asked. "Never once telling him he did a good job?"
"Taught to by whom?" I asked.
"By Dad," he said simply, "Bunic, and Străbunic before him."
I smiled hearing that, "Which means?" I suspected.
Klaus smiled a little, "Sorry, that's what we call our grandfathers and great-grandfathers in Tysa."
No, he was no member of Mensa. "But the word is what language?"
"Oh," he nodded as he understood. "Romanian, I think. Străbunic and Bunic spoke more of it." He jerked his head up. "I don't want to be Romanian! I am Makarovian!"
I nodded and went to a computer and tapped it awake. I pulled up the Makarovian Website and then the media page. Pulling up the meeting I turned on the audio and sent it into the speaker. The initial greeting was short, and Klaus went quietly into what he'd done wrong. No emotion in his voice or anger, but he didn't sound as if he was following a script. I did see Klaus' eyes widen. We always see and hear flaws we don't realize are there. It was short.
"You had to know this would hurt King Olek," I said to Klaus. "How can you see this as a constructive thing?"
Klaus sat with a wail, "It would anyone. Străbunic told us it was our job! It was our duty to be the King's conscience!"
"Who gave your Străbunic that job?" I asked.
He shrugged, "I'm not sure, but Străbunic's father was told, I guess. We were chosen!"
"From the time of the Russian Revolution until nineteen-nighty one?" I asked. "The king here in Makarovia wasn't in charge that much."
"We didn't come here much then," Klaus answered. "I didn't like doing it later."
"Then why do it?" Olek asked.
"I was supposed to!" Klaus said. "Bunic said to keep emotions out of it." He shook his head. "I think you're doing a great job."
Olek's mouth dropped open. "Not one of your grandfathers or father has ever said that." He didn't exactly whine, "Even a dog occasionally is told good dog." I looked at Olek who nodded and said to me, "I know, I'm not a dog, but at least it gets an occasional positive. Am I less deserving because I'm not a dog?"
"It was said," Klaus began, "that everyone was showering you with praise, so I wasn't supposed to." He shook his head, "I was a fool."
Yuri nodded and said very seriously, "If it was as you say it was. You did it as a service. Our problem is there is nothing recorded about that."
I nodded, "I don't believe you are a fool," I assured Klaus. "Being a fool and doing something foolish aren't necessarily the same thing." I was almost touching the bars now. "If even part of what you say is true, I'd say you are one of the most loyal citizens in Makarovia." I looked at Klaus closer. "I admit it. I was furious with what I heard, and I wanted to bounce you out of here as soon as possible. I posted the audio-recording of your meeting with King Olek in hopes other Makarovians would get pissed off." I shook my head, "I didn't expect it this soon."
Klaus nodded, "Mihal is a HIUGE fan!" I recognized the Romanian version of Michael. Klaus grimaced. "He could hardly wait for the broadcasts. When he saw the date and time of the meeting, he knew it was me." He chuckled, but at a memory. "He couldn't wait for the computer he bought to arrive and had it hooked up in minutes. He heard it and let everyone he had as contacts know what and hear it for themselves."
"He knows about your duty with this?" I asked carefully.
He gave a grudging nod. "They know I have an audience with the king. I never reveal what we talk about."
"You will remain here for now," Yuri explained. "For your own protection for now. What you said needs to be confirmed."
Klaus moaned a little. "My house will be destroyed."
Olek smiled, "If I say not to?"
He looked up a little hopeful. "Would you do that?"
Olek nodded, "I'll even send it by broadcast as soon as we're done." He was looking at Klaus with more compassion. "You have my word on that."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." He bowed formally.
Once in the hall, Olek stopped. "Could he be lying?"
Yuri looked at us and then shook his head. "I can't tell."
All three of them looked at me, but no pressure, right? I sighed, "What am I? An Ouija Board!? I don't know. He's either what he claims to be or a damned fine liar!" Another thing to note was inbreeding. I'm not talking about brother to sister or even cousin to cousin. When a population is as closed off as Makarovians were. The pickings were slim. Everyone was related somehow to everyone! Royal families were the worst! Regular people weren't good enough. You know the Romanovs. Hemophilia and Bolsheviks. Remember Prince Charles II of Spain? Poor guy! Get something to keep track, okay? His mother was her uncle's sister. An aunt. Whose mother was an aunt? I get confused, but seven generations before, they all came from the same two parents! All of them! There is a flow chart, but Prince Charles II was the most inbred person in the monarchy! Bad planning! Very bad planning with all of those aunts and uncles, cousins, and... those recessive genes all coming to match the same in family members. Even in communities with more people, but still similar people. It was better. That worked out well for the people of Luxembourg. Heart disease and blood pressure issues were fewer there. Another thing was the skeletal structure. A Scottish man marries a woman from Greece. Through the generations, the jawline structure on both is set. The Greek jaw doesn't fit right with the Scottish jaw, causing an overbite? It was sad, but almost a joke about the people of England who were known to have bad teeth. They did! Beautiful faces with crooked smiles. They had been bred with a few Vikings as well and Italians! Highlanders will swear they are different than Englishmen. Sure. (Sarcasm: everybody can see that.)
The people of Stryia and Skoal had better access to dentistry. Tysa did not. Klaus didn't smile much, but when he did... Women weren't dragging their children form yards in fear, but the unevenness was seen. Peter and Olek had gone to dentists. I remember Dr. Finnegan. I loathed that man. He was a borderline sadist. Every time he said "this won't hurt a bit" it DID hurt. The liar. He didn't even inspire fantasies. What good is he for me, damn it! No amount of nitrous oxide could help.
Yet, at the same time, Makarovia had the best infant survival by population. Educational deficiencies were few. Mental delays? When it became improper to say "mentally retarded." Birth defects? Not many. Makarovians were rolling the dice pretty well. Then again, with things cut off it a parent did a horrible thing to their child, would we know? I shudder. Everything is possible.
I started to walk slowly forward. "For Klaus, this could be a legitimate job they do. A privilege his family alone can do and an honor." I was thinking as we walked, "You can ask almost every person in the United States to name a traitor." I threw my hands out. "Practically everyone will say, Benedict Arnold." I stopped and saw no reaction in Olek's or Peter's eyes, "Late Eighteenth Century? American Revolutionary War? George Washington..." I waved them off and went forward with my topic, "But should you ask what he did...a good many clam-up. They might know a little, but..." I shook my head and did the parental instruction thing, "or was he being loyal? He did switch sides. Then again, he did that leading the American Troops. He was loyal to the government. He did rebel. He joined the British. They didn't trust him either. He was dishonest and untrustworthy." I looked back at the shrinking cell. "I just don't see him masterminding anything."
"Do you think he is really a true Makarovian?" Peter asked, but was really asking me for some more convincing.
I gave him a smirk, "You were right there when I just said I'm NOT a Ouija Board." I tapped my own head on my forehead above my two eyes. "No third eye...meaning I'm NOT psychic." I threw my arms out in helpless futility. "I can't read his mind. I don't know. His grandfather could have been the most loyal and most trusted to give the king the unfiltered truth to keep your grandfather," I pointed at them, "from getting caught up in his own power."
"There is nothing on record to verify that," Olek frowned.
"Officially?" I asked, "Is there any way there could be an unofficial record?"
Olek thought again, "That was during the Soviet occupation. If there was an unofficial account, it would be in our grandfather's journals."
I nodded, "He kept his own journals private, I'm sure. Do you have them?"
Olek nodded, "In my room in a safe. I've not really read them."
"Maybe we should," Peter suggested. "He could have written about this."
"I know when talking about a king with nearly absolute power," I began. "This sort of unvarnished truth-telling to a king, a king would have recorded it somewhere. Can we see them?"
Olek nodded, "I'll get them."