For Goodness Sake: Arrangements Have Been Made
16 Jul 2024Vasil Vasilescu
“If you will excuse me, Madame, I’d best return to the command deck. I will see you again at dinner.” Captain Whitney nodded to Octavia and Vasil before seeing himself out of the reception room of Octavia’s suite on the Emerald Dawn.Octavia’s polite smile fell away as soon as the captain left. “That man is insufferable, Vasil. What nerve to tell me that I should inform him prior to my arrival. He acts as though the Emerald Dawn is his and not mine.”
Captain Whitney had spent most of his life in the Imperial Navy where certain traditions and protocols need to be followed. One particular custom was to give a ship’s commanding officer the courtesy of not showing up unannounced, even if you did have a permanent suite of staterooms on a vessel that you never visited.
“The Emerald Dawn belongs to the Emerald Repatriation Society and ERS has placed him in command of the carrier,” said Vasil. “So, in a way, it is his ship.”
Octavia roller her eyes. “I am ERS, Vasil, and I approved Captain Whitney on your recommendation. But because you are so keen on using word gymnastics to make a point, I said he was insufferable, not that he was ineffective. I’ll tolerate the former so long as it is not eclipsed by the later.”
“And how effective were you in dealing with Countess Goodness?”
“At first, I did not expect her to be quite so resistant to finding her son.” Octavia started toward the suite’s greatroom. “Panels,” she said upon entering. Large shields covering the windows quietly retracted into the ceiling revealing the view of a sun-washed Mangwutja A1. “But we eventually came to an agreement.
“Excellent. Have you told Katarzyna? She’s been delaying resettlements to ensure there were enough people to establish one on Cubeo and the Emerald Dawn is close to max capacity.” Vasil started pouring himself a bourbon from the small bar and silently offered one to Octavia, who shook her head and indicated the chilled red wine.
“I’ve told Kat to move forward with the settlements in the Taureg system. There will be no settlement on Cubeo. Countess Goodness and I have come to other arrangements, which is why I am here. There is something you need to do.”
Vasil handed Octavia her wine. “What? Apologize for calling her son Little Lord Pompadour and her husband Daddy Pompadour?”
“No. I think she may have found the little lord nickname slightly amusing. She said the Count, however, was not amused with Daddy Pompadour when Lady Lambast told him what happened during your meeting with her. I apologized for you being overzealous in pursuit of bettering the family but emphasized that you always have the family in mind, unlike Stefan who managed to embarrass us even with his death. She did not admit it, but their son is a source of embarrassment for them as well.”
“Imagine that. Someone calling himself “Creamy” Goodness an embarrassment to his family.” Vasil looked at Octavia, his expression prodding her for the rest of the story. “I doubt an apology and a shared experience with family embarrassment could have led you and the Countess to an agreement.”
“The recording you made of the meeting helped. Although it showed you to be opportunistic in your approach, you were willing to make a deal, which Lady Lambast Mercy walked away from, and thus, walked away from finding the Countess’ son.”
Octavia took a sip of the wine, looked at it with mild disappointment and set it aside. Unlike her, it was too sweet. “There may have even been the slightest hint of appreciation in the Countess’ eye when you told Mercy that you would oblige if she wanted to make it about the vulgarities of money rather than favors. I got the impression that the Countess looks down on the Mercy’s as more plebian than noble because the Mercys are new money and new blood.”
Vasil glanced to the antique Founder’s Brooch pinned near Octavia’s left shoulder. The ngadanari fire opal in the shape of an Imperial eagle and ringed in a palladium laurel wreath shimmered in the light. As head of a family there was no more subtle way to remind people in certain Imperial circles that your family was the oldest of the old blood. The Countess certainly would have recognized the token given by Henson Duval as gifts to his most loyal senatorial supporters during the founding of the Empire nearly 1000 years ago.
“So, what agreement did you come to?” asked Vasil.
“One appropriate to two noble houses; an unspoken but understood exchange of favors. The Countess promises to support my eventual bid to become a patron. In exchange, I offered her a position on the ERS Honorary Board, and that you would personally take charge of finding her son.”
Vasil understood the board position. Having Sir Halston DeVey on the honorary board had generated billions in “donations” from wealthy imperials looking to join the board and rub shoulders with an advisor to HRH Princess Aisling. Having another palace courtier on the board would bring in even more credits. The Countess, being a political climber and influencer on Cubeo, would get the benefit of being associated with a popular Imperial charity without having to do any actual work. Politically, it was mutually beneficial for both Octavia and the Countess.
However, Octavia committing him to finding the young Lord Goodness on what little information they had available seemed an impossible task.
“Octavia, We have no idea if the COVAS from their son’s ship has location info about where their son might be. We can’t even get into the COVAS without risking losing the information it does have.”
Octavia looked at Vasil like a patient parent explaining why all of the excuses their child was giving for not doing something were invalid. “Lady Mercy, when warning the Count you might try to bargain with the COVAS, gave the Count the name of a person who can help. The Countess passed the contact information to me for a Mr. Maul Montresor.”
“Montresor,” repeated Vasil. “Octavia, he and Mercy have some… I don’t know… strange friendship or whatever. I am not sure he can be trusted to not take the information and run straight to her.”
“Apparently Mercy actively dislikes the Goodness’ son and was only trying to find him because the Count was blocking Mercy building a starport. You cocking up your negotiations with Mercy caused her to completely abandon the build and finding their son. So, I doubt she will want or use any information given to her.”
“This is not a matter of sending a shuttle to pick someone up, Octavia. He's been missing for a year. Probably not in the bubble or Colonia otherwise as soon as he spent any money his cred profile would get tagged. Could be dead. Do you know how hard it is going to be finding a dead person? Or, if he is alive somewhere, finding a single person on some random planet out in the void?”
“Then it is a good thing you spent twenty years exploring undiscovered planets,” countered Octavia. “You will do this, Vasil. Not because I am telling you to do it, but because I know it is in your nature. Mercy told the Count how you obtained the COVAS, how you traded a corpse for it instead of the girl the pirates wanted, how you kept the girl safe. I also know what you did for our sister, Elena.”
Vasil expected a cold, disapproving stare. Octavia had ruined Elena for being disloyal to the family, forcing Elena into debt slavery. Instead of the stare, Octavia looked at him with a kindness in her vibrant blue eyes.
That genuine and rare compassion in Octavia’s eyes stung more than his guilt over not helping Elena before it was too late. “Elena did not deserve what you did to her. She did not betray the family and you know that.”
“As head of this family I regret what had to be done. But I am glad that you ensured her slave contract went to a company where she could thrive and be treated with respect.” Octavia sounded honest, but Vasil knew disowning Elena and seizing her wealth for the family served Octavia’s political ambitions. Gifting one of Elena’s Villas to Sir Halston was how Octavia persuaded him to join the Honorary board.
“Vasil, I know you will do your best to find the Goodness’ son,” said Octavia both as an encouragement and an order. “I know that deep down you care more about people than profit.” She smiled that warm but somehow condescending smile she had perfected. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to start getting ready for dinner with Captain Whitney.” Octavia started toward her private room, muttering sarcastically, “I suppose he’ll expect me to announce myself before arriving at dinner.”