Halfway down, she found out why.
The king leaned over and shouted over the roar of reentry in her ear, “Kid, I hope you won’t mind, but in addition to Commander, Alwa Defense Sector, I’m naming you Vicereine and Governor General for the Alwa System.”
NELLY, RESEARCH AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT.
VICEREINE IS THE FEMININE OF VICEROY. ENGLAND RULED INDIA FOR SEVERAL HUNDRED YEARS WITH A VICEROY AND GOVERNOR GENERAL. MOST OF THAT TIME THERE WAS VERY LITTLE LOCAL PARTICIPATION IN THE GOVERNMENT BY THE PEOPLE OF INDIA.
THANKS, NELLY.
The roar was still pretty high, but lessening. Kris leaned over and shouted back. “You name me Viceroy, or you can forget the whole thing. And no way will I accept the appointment of Governor General. While it might help me ride herd on those vultures in orbit, the colonials have their own government, thank you very much, and there is no way I’ll take responsibility for the Alwans. Herding cats would be easier than getting them to do anything they don’t volunteer for.” Kris had said her fill, but added, “Respectfully, Your Royal Majesty.”
The king laughed. The high gees were slipping away toward something normal as he reached across to Crossie and held his hand out. The black-hearted security honcho reached in the pocket of his own blues and, drawing out a bill, handed it to the king.
As the king pocketed it, Kris got a look. The king had won a thousand-dollar bet!
Kris very much doubted it was for the vicereine part.
“What’s a viceroy do?” Kris asked, as the noise got low enough to allow normal conversation.
“Stand in for the king and other odds and ends.” The king paused. “I’ve seen a draft commission for you, Kris. Skipping the vicereine crap and the governor-general stuff, I think the big thing is that it empowers you to open negotiations with the bastards and sign draft peace treaties for submission to the U.S. Senate.”
“Peace Treaties?” Kris said to the king. “Aren’t you a bit optimistic?”
“If no one has the authority, then no one can,” he shot back.
Kris chewed on what the king and Nelly had said for a long minute. “Hold it, Grampa King Ray. You’re king over one hundred seventy-three planets. The constitution requires that every one of those planets have a single government in order to apply for membership. The Alwans are nowhere close to a single government, and I doubt the colonials would be all that interested in joining what the Alwans glued together. You can’t be king of Alwa, and if you aren’t king, this place can’t have a viceroy.”
“How many times have I heard that?” The king sighed. “But those fool loudmouths in Congress did agree to something new. The colonials can apply for associated membership in the U.S. Alwa is that important to us. And if they apply for associated membership, they can vote you in as viceroy. You and only you, I might add.”
“You’re telling me I have to run for election by an association I have to first persuade them to form!”
“You’re Billy Longknife’s bratty daughter. You’ve been hustling voters since before you started school. I don’t see a problem,” the king said with a huge grin.
“I ran away and joined the Navy to get out of politics!”
“Your sins will always find you out, my child.”
“Especially if my grampa leaves bread crumbs to help them,” Kris said, making a face.
The king really enjoyed a laugh at that one.
The longboat landed, but then had to thread its way carefully. Every pulling or sailing boat the colonials had was out on the lake waving flags of every color imaginable. A handful of banners were also up saying WELCOME and HOWDY.
They moored at the long pier. Ada was waiting.
Normally, the military has seniors exit a vehicle first. The king stood, taking up a major hunk of the aisle, and said, “You and Jack go first. You know these people. I’ll settle the order of my folks after you two.”
Kris led the exit, with Jack at her side. She found herself greeted with cries of joy from colonials she now recognized. She let them cheer for a bit, then raised her hand for silence.
Surprise of surprise, she got it.
“May I present to you, His Royal Majesty, Conqueror of the Iteeches, King Raymond I of the United Society.”
The cheering got even louder as Ray exited the shuttle, waving like an experienced legend. The cheering went on for quite a while before he also raised both hands. It took longer for them to quiet down.
“Thank you for your welcome,” he shouted into the final cheers. “I am glad to have a chance to reestablish friendship and relations with our long-lost shipmates and their children and grandchildren. I am delighted to see how you have prospered in adversity and persevered in the face of fearful odds.”
Now the crowd totally lost it. In the following uproar, Ada stepped forward, introduced herself to the king as the Chief of Ministries for the Colonial government, and invited him to come with her to Government House.
She gave Kris a wink before she led the king toward the jitney that hadn’t gotten any larger than before. Kris and Jack used the warning to settle themselves in the second row, behind the driver, who turned out to be Ada. The king settled into the passenger seat and his staff members, now exiting the shuttle, found themselves scrambling for seats. Penny got onto the last row, facing backward and explaining to a commander that she was on the princess’s staff and needed to be where Kris was. Besides, a second jitney was waiting.
There were two more jitneys at the end of the pier, along with several wagons with seats pulled by those huge beasts. Kris would have loved to wait and see who chose to walk rather than be pulled along by one of them.
The crowd made way for the jitney with the king on it. The Royal U.S. Marines formed up and route-marched behind them off the pier before falling into step. It was quite a show.
A show that was missing someone.
“Where’s Rita?” Kris caught as Ray leaned over to softly ask Ada.
“She’s waiting for you at Government House. All this shouting and excitement wouldn’t have been good for her.”
Shouting and excitement? Granny Rita would lap it up. But Kris kept on her game face and prepared to let it all play out.
The streets between the pier and Government House were lined with cheering people. The king got to do his royal thing, waving, waving, waving. Kris knew how much he didn’t care for this part of his job. She kind of pitied him.
She was also none too sure this was the proper lead-up to his meeting Rita.
They finally pulled into the round driveway of Government House. The trees shaded the drive, providing cool for a day that had become hot. The king’s gold-encrusted blues were showing sweat, and he seemed to breathe easier out of the sun.
Then he saw Rita, and his face went in all kinds of directions at once.
Rita was there, front and center on the veranda of Government House.
She sat smiling and waving . . . from a wheelchair!
Kris had a good view of the king’s face. She tried to catalog the feelings that chased themselves across it. Some managed to stop and homestead for a moment or two.
Ray was delighted and terrified at the same time. He looked worried, concerned, determined, and dismayed. Kris wondered if a normal man could have done this, or if she was once again seeing something only a legend of Ray’s stature could manage.
Ray leapt from the jitney before it came to a stop, not that it ever had been going that fast. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, coming to kneel on the step below his long-ago wife.
“Nothing, Raymond, really nothing. I’m not as young and spry as you are and I got a bit carried away yesterday getting all this stuff ready for you and it seems I twisted my back. Those pills Kris gave me are making me feel great. I’m just not as great as I feel. Anyway, I think I could handle myself fine with a cane,” she said, brandishing a lovely wooden one, “but my bossy kids have got me in this thing, and my grandkid can’t wait to push me around in it.”