The Far Bank of the Rubicon (The Pax Imperium Wars: Volume 1) (20 page)

“You did well at dinner tonight, Jonas.”

Jonas remained in the doorway, both surprised and wary of a visit from his father. Most often they meant something was about to change in his life.

“Thank you, Father.”

“How was your evening?”

Jonas blushed despite himself. “It was good.”

The King sighed. “No, Jonas, I’m not here to announce that we are changing your duties, at least not today. Why don't you come in?”

Jonas shrugged. “Sorry.” He walked into his room and shut the door behind him. He couldn't yet quite bring himself to begin to undress. He still felt this visit had to have more importance than just a fatherly chat. So instead, he sat at his work table across from his father, in the chair most often occupied by Dmitri, while his father occupied his own.

The King continued to gaze at his son. “How are you, Jonas?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Good. I am glad to hear it.” The King's eyes narrowed somewhat. He took off his heads-up and, holding it by one bow, pressed the fingers of the same hand into his temple.

Jonas sensed that his father was trying to break the ice, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to let his father in at the current moment. There was so much Jonas wanted to think through, and he wasn’t sure what to say. He was certainly not ready to bring him into the evening’s events, although he was sure his father would hear about them soon enough.

Jonas hunted for a topic of conversation. Looking down, he saw the small round medal pinned to his chest. He unpinned the medal of St. Adrian and put it on the desk. “That was a bit much, don't you think, Dad?”

The King chuckled and looked his son dead in the eye. “I’m glad you brought that up. I could tell you were uncomfortable today when I pinned it on you, and, no, I don't think it was a bit much, Jonas.”

“So what did they tell you happened in the training room?”

“That you nearly caused a major problem for your unit leader by interfering with the rescue flyer.”

Jonas felt puzzled and irritated. He let some small part of his frustration show in his voice. “And it doesn't bother you that I am rewarded for nearly getting someone else killed, all so that I didn't show up in the papers again?”

Jonas' irritation only increased when his father began to laugh. “That's what motivated you? Really? You did all that just so the Court Reporter couldn't make fun of you again? I don't believe that for a second, Jonas. Think about that again, Jonas. Was it really just the Court Reporter?”

Jonas looked down and pulled his lips into a thin line and kept silent. He didn’t add,
That, and I didn't want to fail you
, but he thought it.

The King's forehead wrinkled with concern, and he spoke with intensity. “Jonas, you didn't do all of that just to make me happy or to keep the reporters at bay. You did it because you’re a leader, and you cared about the success of your unit.”

“Dad, I wasn't the squad leader, remember? Azziz and Hansen made sure of that, so that I would be accepted by the other cadets.”

“So where was your unit leader during the training exercise? Wasn't he passed out somewhere?”

“She, but yes. She got disoriented and didn’t get her HeFAR on before the air started to get thin.”

“Did anyone else think to make a count? “

Jonas answered with a head shake.

“Would the unit have passed without you in the room?”

Jonas shrugged his shoulders in confusion and said, “No.”

“Weren't you the one who executed a plan which saved Henderson and successfully completed the training exercise?”

“Yes.”

“Jonas, you acted as a leader worthy of the military and worthy of the House of Athena, and, I might add, worthy of the Society of St. Adrian.”

Jonas felt exasperated at his father's insistence at making him into a hero. His tone showed it. “Dad, Henderson could have died. I was an idiot. I was stupid.”

The King nodded his head as Jonas spoke. “Jonas, sometimes leadership doesn’t always come from the purest of places. Every time I make a tough call, I feel stupid, inadequate, and foolish afterward. I am my own worst critic. However, it’s the mark of a true leader that you made any judgment call at all in a very tough situation. You made the right call because you did something. You led your squad. They will follow you anywhere you need them to go, and I couldn't be more proud of you.”

Jonas opened his mouth to object, but his father just shook his head. He gently pointed his index finger at his son. “Jonas, I know you don't understand this right now, but you will. You did well, and you deserve all the attention you got today. I’m proud of you, and that is all I came to tell you tonight.” Without waiting for Jonas to respond, the King picked up his reader and stood up.

Confused, and even more angry, Jonas stood with him.

His father came around the desk and embraced him. Jonas half-heartedly returned the affection.

The King walked to the door. He turned and looked back. “By the way, CRH wants a follow-up interview on your training later this week with both of us. I’ll be out of the system at the economic conference when we do it. I just figured that you would want an opportunity to hear what I will be saying in person before I say it over the holi.” Again, without waiting for a response, the King walked out the door and shut it quietly.

Jonas sat at his desk, staring at the door. After a moment or two, a quiet tear crept out from the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek. Jonas controlled the impulse to cry. He had had too much emotion for one day, and tomorrow would be busy. Deciding he didn’t want to deal with the whiplash, he stood, removed his clothes, and fell into a restful sleep.

Three days later, Jonas woke to Dmitri sitting at his desk, drinking a cup of coffee and skimming through the morning holographs. Last night, Jonas had set the window to 20% porous, and this morning the white sheers ruffled slightly in the breeze. There was a fresh, growing scent in the air.

Without looking up, Dmitri said, “The conference seems to be going well. I wish the press would pull their heads out of their asses and get on board with that. They’re making way too big a deal of Admiral Dawson’s pending resignation. After all, she was always a little too worried about security. Trying to cancel your father’s trip to the summit was a bridge too far. Only thirty days left and we’ll be free of her. Uncle Charlie looks really undone on the holies this morning, answering questions about it.”

“The Prime Minister is not yet my uncle, Dmitri.” Jonas replied, needling his private secretary.

Dmitri waved his hand. “Details. The wedding is in four weeks.” The corners of his mouth twisted upward in the beginnings of a grin. Without looking up, he continued, “Besides, it bothers him so much when I call him that in private.”

Jonas swung his feet over the side of the bed and shook his head. “The two of you are incredible.”

Dmitri continued reading. “It's an academy thing. Uncle Charlie and I were usually neck and neck for the top spot in our classes. Let's just say that ever since then, the relationship has been a little bit competitive.”

Jonas came to sit at the desk. “So, I assume you have a reason for invading the privacy of my bedroom before I am awake or dressed?”

Dmitri looked up. The wry smile continued. “Jonas, why do you keep insisting on thinking that you have any privacy? I already know what you are thinking the vast majority of the time, anyway. I am working on the rest. I figure that you will be an open book to me by the time you are twenty-three.”

Jonas laughed. Dmitri always had a way to get him in a better mood to cooperate with the plans for the day. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dmitri shrugged a little, without any remorse. “There is a matter of some importance,” he said, with an undertone of sarcasm. “I have been asked by the media department that you wear a blue suit for your interview today, not your Marine uniform.”

Jonas rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding! This is an interview regarding my training. I figured the uniform would be the best.”

Dmitri smiled and nodded his head as he saw the pride rise up in Jonas. As an aside, he said, “See, I told you I know what you’re thinking.” Then he continued with the matter at hand. “So did I, but our sources at the Court Reporter have told us that there is some discussion around the newsroom about portraying your medal as nepotism.”

Jonas looked up at the dark wood ceiling in his room and sighed in frustration. “I didn't even want the thing.” Then another thought crept into Jonas' mind. “Do they know what happened in training? Is this an ambush?”

Dmitri pressed his fingertips together. “I have been worried about that myself. So far, the media office isn't letting on that they have heard anything of the sort, but our media spies haven't been the greatest recently. We have missed three or four big stories until just before they went out on the net. It put us on the defensive and that is not where we ought to be, so we cannot rule out an ambush. The CR has to know that the princes are off limits and that the media office wouldn't allow the interview to go forward if that was their angle. Of course, that would mean that any ambush would be kept really quiet, so the media office might not know about it beforehand.” Dmitri ended without any clear conclusion.

Jonas was used to the Socratic thinking of his mentor but found it irritating when he needed advice. He gave Dmitri a slightly sarcastic look and said, “So do I wear the uniform or not?”

Dmitri looked up, “Sorry, Jonas,” he said. He thought for a moment, then once again refused to answer the question. “I don't think there is a clear answer here. What do you want to do?”

“Well, I am proud of the uniform. I earned it. But the medal is a bit overdone. It makes me out to be a hero when I wasn't. What if I wore the uniform without the medal? What would that do?”

Dmitri thought for a moment. “You know, I think that might work. If it is an ambush, it will be harder to make the argument that you are above the common people because of your medal. It also shows you’re proud to be a marine.”

Dmitri continued. “I think that if the topic comes up, you should downplay the medal. Frankly, Jonas, you should just tell the truth about what you feel. Tell the CR that you think the medal was overdone, that you don't feel that you deserve it, and that you are proud of being part of your unit. That is just the truth, and it is always easiest to sell the truth because you can sell it with conviction. It won't stop them from trying to make you look bad, but it will be much harder.”

Jonas took a quick breath and let it out noisily. He decided that he wasn't looking forward to his day.

After a morning reading at a local primary school, Jonas found himself dressed in his clean uniform and walking toward the formal interview room, usually reserved for the King. Today the King would appear via hologram. Milton Rain was to be the interviewer, which seemed to rule in favor of an ambush. Rain wasn’t exactly considered friendly to the palace.

After being saluted by the guard at the door, Jonas entered the anteroom to the audience chamber. Located just off his father’s office, this room provided a last place for the royals to prepare themselves before entering for an audience. The protocol today was for Jonas to get situated, the King would then be brought in by holi, and finally Rain would start all the pleasantries followed by the interview.

Dmitri slipped into the anteroom with Jonas. “Ready?” he said over Jonas' shoulder. Jonas nodded firmly, and Dmitri opened the door to the interview chamber.

Jonas' sound check went along smoothly enough. Milton tried to make small talk with Jonas to put him at ease.
More like put me off my guard
, thought Jonas. Jonas fell into his reserve of banality and answered back, all the while trying to see if he could get a hint at how the interview would run.

He noticed that the media office personnel were whispering behind their hands. Jonas guessed the uniform had made a bit of a splash. He saw them pull Dmitri aside. He nodded seriously and then politely ended the conversation with them. The media office wasn't very influential with the King or his private secretary, so there really wasn't much to worry about. Dmitri gave Jonas a thin smile, unnoticeable to all but him.

As Jonas' sound check finished, the King was brought in by holi. It took a few more minutes than it should have. The technician said they were having trouble keeping their bandwidth clean today. Apparently, there was some kind of cyberstorm going on. Once the King had been connected, he and Jonas shared some pointless banter for the cameras while he was sound checked. At this point, Milton Rain tried to take over the interview by starting to describe how things were going to go, but the king interrupted him and politely reminded him that his time was limited due to the conference schedule, so the interview should start. Rain deferred to the monarch. The lights were then brought up a bit, and the interview began.

Nothing seemed amiss until Rain asked his third question. “So what did it feel like to give your son the Medal of St. Adrian?” When Jonas turned to look at his father, the King's holi turned almost white as if a tremendously bright light were shining on it. The king stood, raised his hands to cover his eyes, squinted, and turned to say something to Jonas. Without ceremony or so much as a moment of static, the connection was lost.

For the the briefest of seconds, the King had caught Jonas' eye. There was fear there, which he had never seen before. Jonas stood. He held onto the top of the straight-back chair he had been sitting in and tipped it back onto two legs. Hoping against hope that it was only a technical problem, he turned to look at the door on the wood-paneled wall behind him. Milton Rain was saying something about re-establishing the connection as two members of the royal body guard burst into the room. Inside, Jonas began to panic. A wailing alarm sounded. Dmitri started moving toward Jonas. One of the marines intercepted him, holding him back.

“Your Highness, please come with me.” He grabbed Jonas by his belt and his shoulder and forced him immediately into a brisk run from the room. He noticed that the other marine had his side arm drawn. Dmitri followed close behind them. Milton Rain seemed to have finally caught up with what was taking place and stood just as the door slammed.