Chapter 17: The Bachelor Party ------------------------------ It's been a good day. I mean, aside from being grilled by Garek, and having to fight half the recruits, and being treated like an useless little wimp by that last one, and the tedium... actually, it's been a thoroughly miserable day. Well, that is certainly disappointing. Perhaps I'll go do something useful now, like sleeping. Yeah. Sleep is good. Anyway, I'm sprinting down the hall, and everything around me's sort of blurry - just like usual. It's an acquired taste, I guess, going this fast. Old man Strago'd die if he ever went this fast period, much less indoors, in the middle of a complex that he doesn't even know. Still, I've been doing this long enough that I know to take a right here - and a left - and my quarters are third door on the... what? There's some guy there. I don't recognize him. Weird. What's he doing in front of MY door? I skid to a halt in front of him, throwing most of my weight into my legs, so they nearly skid out from under me, but it works, and I stop nice and easy in front of him. "Hi," I say to him. I feel like I should wave or something, but somehow that just doesn't seem like the thing to do right now. He's a spooky guy; spooky guys don't bounce around and wave cheerfully at happy bunnies and former couriers. He just sort of snarls at me. "You're invited. Let's go." "Invited where?" I ask him. Invited? I don't recall being informed of a party, or an execution, or a ceremony, or anything like that. Not 'til the wedding, at least, and they're not going to hold a wedding at night, are they? He just sighs, like talking to me is a chore, and begins walking off. So I follow him. "Hello? Earth to eerily quiet guy. Where are we going?" I keep asking him, and finally he answers me. "Lieutenant Oliver is having a bachelor party, and all male command staff are invited." "Ummm... I'm just a lieutenant, sir." "You're an acting Lieutenant Commander. That's close enough." I decide to leave it at that. No use in bugging him. Still, I bet he'll cut loose eventually. Someone, I don't remember who, once told me that inside every old person is a young one, waiting to get out. So, extending that metaphor a bit, inside this guy is a happy, cheerful guy who wants to huggle moogles and stuff. Now that's something I'd like to see. Anyway, we've been walking a while, and I don't hear the sounds of a party, so I guess we're nowhere near it yet. Finally, I get tired of just thinking to myself. "So, Commander..." I begin, letting my voice trail off on purpose. He sighs again; he does that a great deal, apparently, then cocks his head slightly so he can talk to me. "Varalis. Kyrrel Varalis." I begin to say something, but he cuts in. "And if you ever think of referring to me by my first name, don't." "Gee. Thanks ever so." I say. Jerk. ************************* Wow. If there's one thing the New Empire knows how to do, it's how to throw a bachelor party. It's insane in here: I can feel the liquor in this room with my fingertips. Kyrrel's staying near the door; he doesn't seem to be the party animal type. So I'm left alone to wade into a room full of people I don't know. Wonderful. I pick through the little groups of people that have formed up, heading towards... oh lord. There's got to be something wrong with me when the nicest guy I know at a party is Garek. I'm about to go have a chat with him when I feel something - someone, actually, tap my shoulder. I turn to him, and there's this guy (obviously) standing in front of me, flashing this grin like he just made a really, really funny joke, and he hands me this empty glass. "You. Serving boy, Frank, or whatever your name is. I don't really care that much. Get me another drink, would you? Be a dear," he says, then turns about, wading back into the party, apparently thinking he's quite the big and important fellow, and I'm left standing around with his empty glass in my hand. Well, there's no way I'm getting him his drink, so I march right up to him, and tap *him* on the shoulder. He turns to me, still smiling, and then, amazingly, he stops when he sees my expression. "Oh, sorry about that. I'd like a sherry, on the rocks. Go along now." He doesn't even seem to notice that he's a complete idiot... And, like that, he returns to his little conversation. So I tap him on the shoulder again, and shove the glass into his hand. "What is your rank?" I ask him. It's a risk, really; practically everyone in this room outranks me, but... "Well, I don't technically have a rank, but being the Empresses' consort, quid pro quo you know," he starts to say, but I just wave my finger at him. "Well, I do have a rank, which means I automatically outrank you. Hence, you can get ME a drink. Vodka martini: shaken, not stirred." And I walk away from him. There's no way in hell he's going to get me the drink, but it's the principle of the thing. So I walk up to Kyrrel, who's staring at me like I just ate a cat or something. Sort of odd. I look around the room, and, actually, lots of people are staring at me and that guy I told off. I turn to Kyrrel, who looks like he's trying to speak, but has forgot how. "Who was that guy I just told off, Kyrrel? Some sort of diplomat... what? What is it?" "You just told off Garland. Sascha's lover. Do you have any idea of how incredibly stupid you just were? He's going to get you for that before the night is out. Watch yourself." He isn't kidding. God, I wish that he was. ************************* Well, the party isn't turning out to be as bad as I thought it was going to be. Garland hasn't gone near me all evening, but everyone keeps on telling me that getting him mad was really, really stupid. Garek seemed pretty amused by the whole thing, but that's Garek, I guess. I haven't been near the food or the liquor much: I know of several two-year olds that could drink me under the table. I wouldn't last a second against Garek, Kyrrel, or, especially, Joga. That guy just scares me. Seriously. Every time I see him, he's either getting himself a drink, or is inhaling a shotglass. And he never seems the slightest bit drunk. Anyone else would have been burbling about the moogles eating his toes by now, but not him: he just keeps on going, and going, and going... Only a few absentees from the celebrations tonight: Kromm is, apparently, working on something special for the occasion, and will be around later. Lazarus Brokengulf was officially uninvited from the proceedings. Now that I heard, from the groom himself no less, what he did, I can't blame anyone for banning him. I insulted Garland: he probably would have tried to slit the man's throat. Which would NOT have amused Lady Sascha. At all. Lastly, Afkek was invited, but knowing his penchant for being spooky, his not appearing is something short of a shock. Anyway, so I'm sitting on a desk, just sort of watching while Joga starts having a drinking competition with some poor sod. "Emperor Afkek!" yells out a voice. It's Garek's: I know that whine anywhere. I turn around, and there he is. The Emperor, dressed as if it's a funeral and not a party. He looks very majestic somehow, even though he hasn't a crown or a sceptre or anything. It's the way he stands. Like he's the one tree in a huge wheat field or something. He doesn't look my way, really: we just turns his head from side to side very slowly, surveying the crowd. He begins to frown a bit. "Where is Garland?" he asks. I can't help but look around for him; instinct, I guess. I haven't seen him for a bit, either. "He's in the storeroom, getting some more wine," chimes in Oliver. Afkek nods grimly. I think he's one of those people that are physically incapable of being light-hearted. "Well, when he returns, tell him that Sascha has been looking for her Garlie-poo," he says, and smiles slightly. All things considered, it's not all that funny a joke, but coming from him, it's a godsend. He grabs a stray glass off a table, and raises it to the ceiling, smiling broadly now. He looks to Oliver, who looks about ready to be sheared. "I propose a toast!" Afkek begins. It sounds like we're in an auditorium when he talks, and he's at centre stage. "To Lieutenant Oliver and Hart's upcoming marriage - may it be prosperous and long!" Everyone cheers, and takes a drink, except for Afkek, who keeps it raised. "And may the rest of us stay as long unmarried and free!" he continues, then takes his drink. Even Oliver laughed at that. Afkek put down his drink and left right after that. ************************* Kromm finally arrives, lugging along a huge black and gray box. You can see soldering marks all over it, and the KrommTech brand on it is still glowing red a bit. He's puffing and sweating, and everyone's moving out of his way as he moves towards the centre of the room. He sets down the box, then kneels down beside it, unfolding long, spindly legs from it. Everyone has started staring at him now, and the whispering began within seconds of his arrival. He ignores the chatter and keeps on working, pulling the box onto the three legs, so that it holds firm, three feet above the floor. He takes a little cap off the front of it, then glances up to where I am. He motions to me. "You! Whatever your name is!" he yells in an almost accusing fashion. "Alltaire, sir!" I say. What's going on? "Whatever. Clear that wall space for me. Everyone!" he yells, talking to everyone in the room all of a sudden. I shrug sheepishly and start clearing away the tapestry, the dart board, the chair - everything along the wall, just like Kromm said. I still didn't have any idea why, but it seems pretty harmless. I lose track of his little speech in the middle of the working, but I finish just in time to hear the end. "And now, what you've all been waiting for! The latest in bachelor's entertainment from KrommTech! Mister Mason! Close the windows!" The lights are out, and so I stumble through the group of people, trying to get near the box that Kromm brought. It's dark, so it's kind of hard, and I keep on bumping into people, but I can still see the box begin to shake, and then this stream of light flashes out from the end pointed at the wall. The wall looks like it's white-hot all of a sudden, and I can hear Kromm begin to giggle. "What the..." I start to say, and then, in the middle of the wall, the white is suddenly marred with this shadowy image, right near the centre. It's big, but still fuzzy: Kromm begins fiddling with the box a bit, and the fuzziness disappears, and the image on the wall becomes clear.... "It's a -" begins Mason. "Good god," says Garek. Kromm starts laughing even louder, but never taking his eyes off the screen. Oliver averts his eyes a bit, turning bright red. Garland's grinning like nothing I've ever seen. "It's obscene," murmurs Phansha. He doesn't stop watching. Neither do I. And Joga? Joga started smiling the moment the image became clear, and didn't stop all evening.