episode 10

Docking Bay Three

Docking bay three was on the larboard side of the ship, same as the ambassador’s stateroom but two decks above it, and it took a few of minutes to reach the decon-zone that separated the docking bay from the ship-proper (this was a quarantine area that allowed for passengers and cargo to be decontaminated before being admitted to the rest of the ship). The ambassador was met by one of the ship’s decon-officers, a pleasant-faced Icyonic-model robot of leadership-rank, who directed him to a private lounge, usually reserved for accepting diplomats or persons of stature, where the ambassador could relax while he waited for his son to dock and unload. It shouldn’t be too long, the decon-officer assured him.

Alone now, Theodor Kael straightened himself in his seat. He wondered if he should embrace his son on sight – of course, that would be the natural thing to do, whether they were close or not – or whether he should salute and show a bit of professional respect for the man, the officer, that his son had become. This was a subject too broad to pin down, the ambassador finally admitted, and decided to leave the matter up to the moment.

The door slid open at that instant, admitting a man in a black coat and tie. His eyes were notably dark, and a small scar split the brow on one side of his face. He stopped in the doorway and gave a brief smile at the sight of his father. “Greetings, Father,” he said, echoing the words from the message that heralded his arrival.

The ambassador stood, his eyes glazed over with tears. “My son, my son. It’s been ages, has it not?” They embraced – quite indifferent to any predetermined action he could have planned – and the ambassador welcomed him in to sit at his table and talk.

“I apologize, Father, for not taking the time to decontaminate,” said Dax, meaning that his father would, himself, now have to suffer through the process before being allowed back into the ship-proper, “I admittedly grew impatient, waiting.”

His father waved away the apology, saying, “That’s fine, Son. Don’t worry about that. So, how are you doing – haven’t heard a word until your message, and it was a bit cryptic.” He stopped and pointed to the decon-officer, asking his son, “Do you want anything to drink? Water? Coffee? Something to eat maybe?”

“Coffee will be fine,” said Dax.

“Two coffee’s, please, and a plate of those little cookies we have,” the ambassador said to the decon-officer who then relayed the order to an underling. “Good choice,” said Theodor, “The coffee is a little on the nutty side, but silky-smooth and very satisfying. It came from the Landrin Province on Malto, as I understand it – oh, you’ve probably tasted it, then, haven’t you?”

“Indeed. A friend of mine drinks it like it was water – he swears by it – I still haven’t taken to it, but I’m learning to acquire the taste.”

“It is good to see you, Dax” said Theodor, and he was about to continue when the door slid open once more, interrupting.

A woman stood in the doorway. Theodor judged her slightly shorter than average and fairer-of-skin – that was by Thanish standards, he reminded himself, but she was about right for Maltoan.

She appeared embarrassed at having interrupted them. “Sorry,” she said, “I was just-”

“Mai Webb,” said Dax, as both men found their feet, “meet my father, Theodor Kael, the Ambassador of Thane, assigned presently to Casiadin. Father, this is Miss Mai Webb – a virtuous woman from North Koell City, by way of the island paradise of Bangha, on planet Malto.”

Theodor Kael bowed elegantly, deeply, as only a trained ambassador could. “I am honored, Madame.”

The woman returned the bow awkwardly; her eyes shifted familiarly to Dax. She smiled and quietly retreated. The door slid shut behind her.

The ambassador threw a knowing smile toward Dax as they found their seats again. “A beauty,” he said simply.

Dax returned the smile, “She is a friend, Father – technically, she’s still my assistant – we met at the spaceport when I first arrived on Malto.”

“You didn’t mention her in your message, Dax …”

“My message,” said Dax, reminded of the reason for his visit. “I have urgent news, Father. I dare say, it wants not to sit any longer.”

“Out with it, then,” the ambassador said, almost reluctant to return to his professional duties but knowing he must.

The coffee arrived at that moment, and they each accepted a cup, busying themselves, waiting for the room to clear.

Dax began again, “There is a great conspiracy afoot, Father, concerning the robots on Casiadin. A horrible plot of dubious quality that is sure to change everything …”