Matt, Gray, Bradford, Spanky, and Chack were received at the fortress gate by an Imperial Marine, who saluted and politely escorted them across the stubbly parade ground and the palace lawn to the porch. Commodore Jenks, O’Casey, and Achilles Marine Lieutenant Blair were already seated upon colorfully cushioned wooden chairs, attending Governor Radcliff, his adjutant, the Respite militia colonel, and several diaphanously dressed ladies. Drawing closer, Matt recognized the governor’s wife and three daughters. The wife, Emelia, was a short, round, but surprisingly attractive woman who habitually wore the amused expression of one who observed but wouldn’t stoop to dabble in the affairs of men. The daughters shared the attractiveness of their mother in younger, slimmer forms, visible in the breeze despite the shapeless clothing. They shared a trace of her “look” as well. In Imperial society, Emelia’s was probably an extremely liberated life, and Matt suspected that Radcliff appreciated her opinions, in private at least. They seemed comfortable together, and the governor, as in the past, didn’t immediately shoo his women away.
The Imperial men stood as the destroyermen approached.
“Captain Reddy of the United States warship Walker, come to call with companions, Your Excellency,” barked the Marine escort. Matt saluted, as did the others except for Bradford, who swept his ridiculous hat from his head and bowed, pointing his ruddy, balding pate at their hosts.
The Imperial officers returned the salute in their slightly different fashion, but Radcliff was beckoning them forward. “Please do come aboard,” he boomed. “These militant ceremonials waste time we may later regret! Nothing against ceremonials, militant and otherwise, but everything has a season and we face a stormy one indeed.”
The ladies didn’t rise or move in any way, but all seemed intensely focused on Chack, as before. His “American” English was near perfect now, as the first Lemurian who’d ever begun to learn it, and he was the very personification of military professionalism and bearing. He’d clearly impressed the governor, but he was just as clearly aware-and mortified-that the Imperial ladies considered him exotically cute. Matt saw it too and was amused by their fascination and Chack’s discomfiture, but doubted the governor’s ladies would consider Chack so cute and cuddly if they’d ever seen him in battle.
“Please, gentle… ah… gentlemen,” Radcliff continued, suddenly a little discomfited himself, “do join us. Watch your footing on the steps there-the spacing’s all wrong. I’ve been meaning to have it fixed… Well done! True seamen never even notice! Please be seated, everyone. We have much to discuss!”
Matt sat on one of the empty chairs and removed his hat while the others did the same. Raking his fingers through his hair to slick it back, he noticed one of the daughter had shifted her attention to him. He tried to ignore her gaze.
“Your Excellency,” Matt began, “I’m sure Commodore Jenks told you the news we received yesterday?”
“Indeed.” Radcliff’s expression turned grim. “You have my most sincere condolences. We have considerable experience with volcano-ism and the sea surges such activity can produce. I do hope the ultimate toll won’t be as high as you fear.”
“Thank you, sir. Another message today added little new information.”
Radcliff paused briefly, then shook his head. “Pardon me, Captain Reddy. Please know I sympathize with your concern, but I cannot restrain my wonder regarding your devices for communicating over such vast distances! The message Jenks conveyed to me was saddening… and disturbing in other ways that we must discuss, but the means of its delivery… I cannot comprehend it.”
Courtney Bradford leaned forward in his chair. “My dear Governor Radcliff! It’s really quite simple, once you understand some very fundamental principles-”
“Courtney,” Matt interjected, hoping the Imperials hadn’t been too offended by Bradford’s exuberant and completely unconscious condescension. O’Casey, at least, understood a few of those principles. “Later.” He looked at Radcliff. “Right now, let’s focus on the message itself. What else about it is ‘disturbing’?”
Radcliff glanced at his adjutant, his face reddening a little. “A single moment more, if you’ll indulge me. First, to complete an understanding reached between Mr. Bradford and myself, let me say that I understand that there are… certain aspects of our civilization you may not be comfortable with.” He sighed, and his eyes flicked toward his wife. “I might even make so bold as to propose that I… increasingly share a measure of discomfort regarding one issue in particular.” He spread his hands helplessly. “Sadly, momentous change often requires considerable time. In our negotiations, Mr. Bradford has proposed ways those changes might be accelerated, if not instantly achieved.” He looked at Bradford. “I believe you summed it up nicely by referring to a ‘balance of supply and demand’?”
“Indeed,” Courtney said, somewhat pleased with himself. “An end to this hideous ‘Company’ and its abhorrent trafficking in human flesh must necessarily precede any real progress, but the Alliance does offer an immediate, if modest, ‘safety valve’ to alleviate the ‘oversupply’ problem here on Respite, at least. Over time, a decreased supply of a certain… commodity… within the Empire must necessarily appreciate its value and, eventually, status.”
Radcliff nodded seriously. “Ingenious and succinct,” he said. “In that respect, on that subject, I have made my decision. With your guarantees of decent treatment and these somewhat unprecedented ‘rights’ you speak of, any Respitan woman who has completed her indenture or is otherwise free of any legal or commercial indebtedness is also free to choose for herself if she wishes to emigrate to the lands or ‘Homes’ collectively constituting these ‘Allied Powers’ of yours.” He glanced again at his wife and grimaced at her apparently. .. more satisfied amusement.
“I regret, however,” he continued, “that with the exception of a few dubious Company contracts I’m inclined to throw out, you must continue to purchase the obligations of other… persons so… encumbered. Should you choose…” Radcliff’s grimace grew more pronounced as he spoke. It was apparent that he’d never contemplated this aspect of his culture’s “institution” so deeply before. He cleared his throat and marched determinedly on. “Should you choose to retire a… debt with anyone who holds it,” he finally managed, “and they refuse to sell said… debt, for any reason, they shall be liable to a charge of usury.” He glanced at his wife again. “Owning debt is one thing,” he said defensively, “but owning people, quite another!”
“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Matt said simply. It was a major concession, he knew-one he’d held out for. Despite Courtney’s arguments about “commodities” and “supply and demand,” he would pay the actual value of the obligations of the women Courtney chose-but no more. There must be no “price gouging.” He’d argued that that would imply the owners of the debt truly did consider the women who “owed” it to be their property. The Respitan economy might even take a hit, particularly if a lot of “free” women actually chose to emigrate. By the look of things, they did a lot of the hard work on the island. The signs were that many would, but how would they decide when the time actually came to step aboard a ship crewed almost exclusively by another species and leave behind everything they’d ever known? For that matter, how would his own destroyermen respond if they went from famine to feast virtually overnight? He had no concern that the women would be well treated by the Lemurians, and there’d be plenty for them to do. In that respect, their lives might not even change that much. But they would be free and equal-and they would know what respect felt like.
Radcliff had extended an olive branch, but Matt could see there was a catch. He waited for the other shoe to drop and when it didn’t, he spoke. “That has nothing to do with the message we received yesterday,” he prodded. “What exactly ‘disturbs’ you about it?”
“Well… I mean no offense, please understand. It’s just that this apparent armada of yours, advancing toward Respite, leaves me uneasy.”