The Nelson Touch

Chapter Fourteen

It was hard, almost impossible, to get any privacy on a starship, even one the size of a fleet carrier. Henry had been shocked when he’d discovered just how little privacy he and his fellow recruits had, even though he’d managed to hide his reaction before anyone had noticed. Learning to ignore certain activities — or naked female recruits — had been part of his training as much as learning how to fly a starfighter.

But there were a few places where someone could go and be assured of a little privacy, if one didn’t have any immediate duties. Henry had walked into the observation blister, settled down on the uncomfortable chair and started to stare up at the stars, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions running through his mind. The Captain had been right; here, light years from Earth, the Palace and the hordes of reporters, he could be his own man. But he also wanted to prove that he could be his own man.

Moving out of formation had been a mistake, but socking North had also been a mistake; he’d understood that from the moment he’d been forced to face the CAG. And yet North’s accusations of glory-seeking had stung, because they’d been accurate. Henry hated to admit it, but North had been right. He was desperate to acquire glory on his own merits.

The Captain hadn’t grown up in Buckingham Palace. Aristocrat or not, he couldn’t even begin to understand the stresses and strains endured by the Royal Family. Henry had learned, from a very early age, that anything he did was likely to be plastered across the datanets, with snide and downright unpleasant commentary attached from thousands of people who thought they knew better than the King and Queen. His parents had been blasted for everything from letting Henry play outside in the cold to taking him on vacation to expensive places, some of which had even been free of media interference. They just couldn’t please everyone.

It wouldn’t have been that bad, Henry had told himself, if it hadn’t been for the Palace’s PR staff. They thought the Royal Family could please everyone and, if they responded to each and every little complaint, they would eventually achieve a 100% approval rating. Henry had learned, rapidly, that they were chasing an illusion, but that didn’t stop them telling him what he should and should not do. And he wasn’t allowed to tell them where to go. His father, in one of his few unguarded moments, had confessed that he’d had the same problem when he was a boy.

Henry sighed, feeling hot tears burning the corner of his eyes. His father had withdrawn into the kindly persona, the kindly constitutional monarch, so deeply that it was hard to see him as anything other than a soulless puppet. The Queen had withdrawn too, making a handful of appearances and otherwise staying in her rooms, while Henry’s older sister seemed to have embraced following in her footsteps. Henry loved Elizabeth, yet he didn’t understand why she allowed the courtiers to treat her as a doll, one they could dress as how they saw fit. And yet, even she had had bad moments, when footage of her first love affair was broadcast around the world. Who else had that sort of attention from the media?

He’d considered running away, more than once. He’d considered suicide, to the point where even his parents had noticed something was badly wrong. He’d considered simply following in the footsteps of an earlier prince and surrendering his titles. And, finally, it had taken a mixture of threats and promises to get into the Academy. Henry knew he’d trodden on hundreds of toes and simply didn’t give a damn. All he wanted was a chance to prove himself.

And he had it, he knew now. But he’d fucked up badly.

And you were punished as a normal rook, his thoughts insisted. But normal rooks aren’t yelled at by the Captain personally.

He stared up at the stars, burning endlessly in the darkness of space. His schooling had been shared out between headmasters who were sycophants and headmasters who believed, probably correctly, that their royal charge needed more discipline in his life. He’d verged from being given awards and honours he hadn’t earned to being harassed and punished for things he hadn’t done. But now… he’d thoroughly deserved both the lecture and the punishment the CAG had assigned. He could have learned from his experience instead of starting a fight.

There was a click behind him as the hatch opened. Henry turned, wondering who else had come to seek out some privacy, and saw a dark-skinned girl, maybe a year or two older than himself. She was wearing a Lieutenant’s uniform — he couldn’t help noticing that it fitted her perfectly, revealing the shape of firm breasts — without a starship insignia. One of the Admiral’s staffers, he decided. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d been chosen for her looks rather than her competence.

“Hi,” he said, nervously. Talking to women had never been easy for him, not when he’d been Prince Henry. But Charles Augustus didn’t have that burden. “Do you want the blister?”

“I just came to sit down and think,” the Lieutenant said. She held out a hand. “I’m Janelle, Janelle Lopez.”

“Charles Augustus,” Henry said. Once, it had been hard to make sure he never told anyone his true name. He’d worried endlessly over accidentally saying Henry and someone putting two and two together. Now, it was almost second nature. “Pleased to meet you.”

She smiled. Henry couldn’t help noticing that she had a lovely smile.

“Pleased to meet you too,” she said, as she sat down and looked up at the stars. “You’d think they’d move, wouldn’t you?”

“We’re not moving fast enough for the stars to move obviously,” Henry said. “Even the fastest ship in the fleet couldn’t move that fast, I think.”

“Maybe the Magellan sees the effects of moving close to the speed of light,” Lopez said. “I wonder, sometimes, what they will think when they reach their destination.”

Henry had to smile. The Magellan had been the first attempt at sending a starship out of the Solar System. It was really nothing more than a hollowed out asteroid, a generation ship aimed at the star system that had later become Terra Nova, when the tramlines had been discovered. Who knew what would happen in the meantime on an asteroid starship that was effectively a city in its own right?

“I don’t think they’re moving that fast,” he said. He’d read about the project once, when he’d been looking for ways to escape. The best drive technology of the time had been able to do wasn’t good enough to come close to the speed of light. It still wasn’t. “But I wonder what they will make of Terra Nova.”

“They’d probably be shocked,” Lopez said. “And probably not a little horrified.”

Henry nodded in agreement, then changed the subject. “Why are you here?”

“Just fretting over my inability to get the Admiral to honour his social commitments,” Lopez said. “You?”

“Just brooding,” Henry said, truthfully. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Did she know who he was? The CAG clearly hadn’t known anything, but the Admiral’s aide might well have picked up on something. “I got into trouble with my superior.”

“You don’t seem to be in the brig,” Lopez observed. “It could be worse.”

Henry had to smile. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It could be.”

He looked back at the stars, silently resolving to forget glory-seeking and, instead, to concentrate on being the best pilot he could be. North had been right — he ground his teeth in sudden irritation as he recalled that he would have to apologise to the other pilot — but he wouldn’t have a chance to complain in future. Henry silently promised himself it wouldn’t happen again.

“And I have to apologise,” he added. “I hate apologising.”

Lopez lifted her eyebrows. “Why?”

Henry knew the answer to that, but he also knew he couldn’t tell her. He’d been forced to apologise since he was a child, time and time again, for offending people who had heard an inaccurate story about something he’d done and started squawking. Once, he hadn’t known why they’d been offended, merely that it had been his fault. Later, he’d realised that they wanted to force him to grovel as a power play. And none of them had given a shit about the real person behind the royal title.

He clenched his fists so hard they hurt. Beatings would have been kinder, he knew; he’d have preferred to be beaten then endure the mocking condescension of people who saw him as nothing more than a symbol. Instead, he’d been subjected to a form of abuse that had left scars on his soul. If he’d had any prospect of inheriting any real power, he would have hung on grimly and executed his tormentors the day he took the throne. Instead, he’d tried to find a way out. Elizabeth could have the throne. She was older than him… and besides, she’d make a better monarch. Queens called Elizabeth had a very good record.

Lopez coughed. “Are you alright?”

Henry looked down at his hands, then slowly unclenched them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…”

“You said you hated apologising,” Lopez said. “I asked why?”

Henry sighed. “My… family blamed me for everything,” he said. “I had to apologise for everything, even when it wasn’t my fault.”

Lopez met his eyes. “My brother was the same,” she said. “He got the blame for a lot of my mischief. Dad never quite twigged that a girl could be just as naughty as a boy.”

Henry gave her an odd look. “Where did you grow up?”

“My family were immigrants,” Lopez said. “My father never quite fitted in anywhere.”

She cleared her throat. “Whatever happened now,” she added, “was it your fault?”

“Yes,” Henry said, flatly.

“So what’s wrong with apologising for it?” She asked. “Or with learning from your mistakes?”

“Nothing,” Henry admitted. He wasn’t Prince Henry, not here. He was Charles Augustus, a young pilot from a determinedly middle-class background. “Nothing at all.”

He smiled, feeling oddly better. Charles Augustus was little more than a set of notations in a file, a character who would require a great deal of development before he could be called anything more than one-dimensional. Anyone who took a close look at the file would soon recognise it was little more than a cover, one intended to hide a greater truth. A foreign spy inserted into the Royal Navy would have a more detailed file…

And yet Charles Augustus felt real. It was Prince Henry who felt like the fake.

“Thank you,” he said. He swallowed, suddenly, as he stood. “Will… will I see you again?”

Lopez blinked in surprise, then smiled. “I’ll be around,” she said. “We can chat any time you want.”

Henry nodded to her, then stepped through the hatch. He had no idea if she knew who he was or not and he didn’t much care. All that mattered, perhaps, was that he had someone to talk to who didn’t seem impressed by his title — if, of course, she knew he had a title. And she was pretty. Prince Henry couldn’t give a girl a look without having the papers speculating about an imminent marriage, but Charles Augustus could make a fool of himself with the ladies if he wanted. Sin City had been quite an education.

Smiling, he made his way back towards the barracks. It was time to swallow his pride and apologise.

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Kurt said. He knew he sounded shocked and he didn’t really care. “Charles Augustus is actually Prince Henry — in disguise.”

“Yes,” Admiral Smith said, simply. “And you will keep this a secret.”

“His immediate superior will have to be told,” Kurt said. “There were already some questions about why Mr. Augustus was summoned to the Captain’s presence.”

“Tell them that I saw fit to deal with the first major disciplinary problem personally,” the Captain said. “It should suffice, I think.”

“It will not,” the XO countered. She looked angry. It dawned on Kurt that she too had been kept in the dark. “Are there any other surprises on this ship? Or is the Captain of the Roosevelt actually the First Son? Or…”

The Admiral held up a hand. “It was a surprise to me too, when I was briefed on it,” he said, flatly. “The decision was taken to restrict the information as much as possible.”

“But I should have been told,” the XO said. “This could have affected my position.”

“The information was held on a strict need-to-know basis,” the Admiral said. He looked directly at Kurt. “What would you have done if you’d known, while you were putting him through training?”

Kurt frowned. “I would have tried to give him the same training as everyone else,” he said. “Whatever else can be said about him, he is a reasonably competent pilot. All he needs is seasoning and he’s been picking that up since he was assigned here.”

“But evidently not enough of it,” the XO snarled. “Captain, this is a major problem. What happens when this comes out?”

Kurt understood. It would look as though Prince Henry had been allowed to get away with it or had been given excessive punishment. Either one would make the navy look bad. But he hadn’t known Augustus was Prince Henry when he’d assigned the punishment. He’d just wanted to make damn sure the incident wasn’t repeated. North could easily have been injured severely — or injured the Prince himself.

“The incident will be sealed,” the Admiral said, firmly. “The files on it will be redacted, once we return to Nelson Base. They will only be opened for public consumption after everyone involved is safely dead.”

“That isn’t a reliable solution,” the XO said. “Something could leak, sir.”

“Then we deal with it when it does,” the Admiral said. He looked over at Kurt, sternly. “You may share this information, in strictest confidence, with his Wing Commander. Make it clear to her that if there is any leak, it will be career-wrecking. No one else is to know.”

He paused, suddenly looking much older. “I understand that many of you feel personally offended at being left out of the loop,” he added. “However, there was no alternative.”

Kurt looked down at the deck. Berating a normal pilot was one thing; berating the heir to the throne was quite another. The King might have little formal power, but a word or two in the right ear could also be career-wrecking. He understood both the XO’s anger and the Admiral’s argument, even though he tended to sympathise with her. Her career could be destroyed if Prince Henry decided he hated her.

Hell, he thought. My career might have already been damaged. What would Molly make of that?

He knew what she’d think of him having the prince under his command. She’d expect him to befriend the prince, to use him as a contact to promote the family… even though it would be utterly inappropriate. And she would be horrified to hear that he’d disciplined the prince, even though he needed discipline. She’d be terrified at the thought of his retaliation.

The Admiral was right, he knew. They had to keep the secret as closely as possible.

“Yes, sir,” he said, when the Admiral looked at him. “It will go no further than Rose.”

“Make sure of it,” the Admiral warned. He looked around the room. “We will be entering the next system in four hours. By then, I want the Alpha shift to be well-rested and ready for anything.”

Kurt nodded. They had no way of knowing what awaited them on the other side of the tramline. It could be anything from an alien-held system to another largely useless star and a handful of asteroids. Or it could even be a third intelligent race. The thought was surprisingly welcoming. What if there were other aliens, friendlier than the first aliens, out there? Aliens who might just talk to humanity rather than start a war?

“I believe half of my pilots are currently sleeping,” he said. He’d have a few sharp words with the Wing Commanders if they weren’t. “They should be ready to take to their cockpits, if necessary.”

The Admiral smiled. “My aide is insistent that I host a dinner party,” he added. He looked oddly reluctant to do any such thing. “You are all, naturally, invited to attend.”

That wasn’t an invitation, Kurt knew. It was a command.

“Yes, sir,” he said, simply. “I assume it’s for the other commanding officers?”

“Most of them, yes,” the Admiral said. He didn’t sound pleased. “I’d prefer not to host any form of dinner, not now, but we finally have some time to do it.”

Kurt couldn’t disagree with the logic. They’d spent far too much time just rushing around, trying to get the fleet ready for departure. There had been no time for social events. It was odd to think of having one in unknown space, where the aliens might be lurking in the darkness, but it would give the various commanding officers a chance to meet and get to know each other a little better.

“And let’s hope that we aren’t attacked while everyone is here,” the XO said.

“We won’t host the dinner unless the next system is clear,” the Admiral said, firmly. He looked over at Kurt. “Try to organise some get-togethers for pilots too. We may as well try to make sure it isn’t just the commanders who meet and chat.”

“The Japanese aren’t so willing to socialise, outside battle,” Kurt said. “But the French and Americans would certainly come to the party.”

“Good,” the Admiral said. “Just make sure we’re not caught on the hop.”