Queen of Denial (27 page)

Drew looked at the two guards and smiled nervously. "Ah, could you pick up that book I . . . dropped?"

"Yes, my Queen," the guard said with a smile.

"And wipe that damned grin off your face."

After the guards checked her room, she went in and lay down, hoping to escape from the day's troubles with a few hours sleep. She hadn't been in bed ten minutes when there was a knock on the door. "Eat shit, Van Gar!" She screamed, having learned her lesson about saying fuck you.

"It's me. Stasha."

"Why don't you go find Van Gar? I think he needs to be consoled," Drew spat out hatefully.

"Please, Drew, let me try to explain. It's not like you think."

"Oh, let her in!" Drew screamed. "I suppose she won't shut up until you do."

Stasha walked in slowly. It was obvious that she had been crying. As the door closed, she sat on the foot of Drew's bed.

"So, what do you want, tramp?" Drew spat.

Stasha started crying loudly. "What do you want me to do, Drew? Grovel? Beg your forgiveness? You can't imagine the hell I've put myself through. The hell Zarco went through. I know it sounds cliché, but it really did just happen."

Drew took in a deep breath and realized that she was being ridiculous. "Calm down, Stasha. It's funny. You know, I'm not mad a Zarco at all—he doesn't mean anything to me. But you . . . Well, you I trust."

"I'm sorry, Drew. I never meant to hurt you. But I thought you were dead, everyone did but Zarco, and . . ." She stopped there.

"And you love him, don't you?"

"I'm so s-sorry!" Her body was racked with sobs.

Drew took her in her arms and patted her back.

"I d-didn't mean to fall in love with him. All I was doing was helping him run the palace—the day-to-day business. But he's so sweet, and so kind, and so wise, and one night I threw myself on him . . . I'm sorry. When we heard that you'd been found, I was happy, but at the same time I felt cheated. You should have seen the look on Zarco's face. It was obvious that in his mind, he had never slept with me—he was always faithful to you."

"Oh, please," Drew drawled. "In his mind he was always faithful to you . . . Please! What a lot of fucking hooey."

"I had hoped you would never find out."

"You must really love him," Drew said softly. "To be willing to let him go on with his life with me and pretend like nothing ever happened between you. To even be happy for him, and he's such a shit."

"It helped that I was glad to have my sister back. But then you didn't have all your brain, and someone kidnapped Zarco, and everything is just so messed up!" Her crying raised in pitch. "You have no idea what it's like to love someone who doesn't love you."

"Yea, I think I do," Drew said heavily.

"But he does love you," Stasha dried her eyes.

"I wasn't talking about Zarco. That cheating bastard doesn't flip my bacon."

"I wasn't talking about Zarco, either. I was talking about Van Gar."

"Van Gar doesn't love anybody but himself," Drew scoffed.

"He wouldn't stay here if he didn't love you."

"You don't know Van like I do. Right now, he doesn't have a ship. Erik's gone, and I'm not running ships. All of his contacts are through me. If I gave him a ship and someone to work with, he'd be gone tomorrow."

"I think you're wrong, Drew. He risked being shot to save you . . ."

"I didn't say Van wasn't a good friend. I said he didn't love me. What's funniest about that is that until recently, I didn't think I wanted anyone to love me. But now I want him to, and he won't, and it's really starting to piss me off."

"I know what you mean." Stasha sniffed. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah, I suppose so . . . I'm such a push over. You won't say anything to the walking talking ego, will ya?"

"No."

"Good. Now, let's celebrate making up the way normal sisters would."

"How's that?"

"Let's get sloshed and talk about what dicks men are."

Marcus sat down carefully in the seat across from the Queen.

"Marcus, do you know why I've called you here?" Drew asked solemnly.

Marcus swallowed hard. He looked from the Queen to her sister, to the alien and swallowed again. He very much feared a double cross. He shook his head no.

"Here's what we want you to do."

Marcus sighed with relief and listened.

Drewcila watched the newscast happily. Everything was going as planned, and without a hitch. There hadn't been an assassination attempt in a week, and all the preparations for the banquet seemed to be going smoothly. The only dark cloud on the horizon was that Margot was still in a coma.

"I wonder whatever happened to that human?" Drew asked.

"Wow! That's the first time you've asked about him in awhile," Van Gar said."You know, Drew . . . I've been thinking,"

"Well, don't hurt yourself."

"Drew, this is kind of serious. Zarco will be back soon, and . . . Well, maybe it would be better if I wasn't here when he got back. Give me a ship and I can start working. Then, when and if you decide you're tired of playing Queen . . ."

"I've got a ship in dock for you now, but it won't be done before Zarco gets back," she said stiffly.

Van Gar took a deep breath. "I think it's best. Don't you?"

"I suppose . . ."

Stasha ran in. "Drew! Margot just came to!"

"Finally," Drew pushed away from her desk. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to put in that intercom system." She followed her sister to the infirmary, but as they got there, crash carts came around the corner at a run, heading for Margot's room. "What the hell?"

"Someone tried to smother her by holding a plastic bag across her face," the palace Doctor answered.

"Did anyone see who it was?"

"No, my Queen. The person wore a mask, and I'm afraid they escaped capture."

"You fucking morons!" Drew pulled at her hair. "Will she be all right?"

"We think so, but I'm afraid she's lapsed back into a coma."

"Damn! Well, keep me appraised of her condition." She turned to one of her personal guards. "You stay here. I'll send a replacement. I want a twenty-four hour guard put on this door."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Kind of like shutting the hanger after the rats get in. Come on, Stasha. Let's get back to the office. I want to know where every fucking person in this palace was."

"Why would anyone try to kill Margot?" Stasha asked.

"Because she saw the assassin."

Zarco sat in his cell. His days seemed endless. His life had no meaning or purpose. He felt unloved and unwanted. He watched the screen in front of him and listened to the reporter.

"A few weeks ago the Queen asked to be called Drewcila Qwah, the name that she used in her five years away from us."

Zarco grimaced.

"The Queen's popularity among the working class is phenomenal. Most people now refer to their queen as Queen Qwah. Behind me is a beauty salon. As you can see, the sign in the window says they now do the 'Drewcila Do'. With me today is Bartis, a stylist at the Beauty Wave Salon. So tell us, Bartis, what is the 'Drewcila Do'?"

The man smiled for the camera and waved big, before he spoke. "It's the fabulous cut that our marvelous Queen Qwah is sporting. It's simple, dramatic and easy to care for. The perfect do for the busy working woman on the go."

"Thanks, Bartis. We'll now join Yarta down at the Rags clothing store. Yarta?"

The picture switched to a middle aged woman in a "Drewcila Do". She was standing at a counter in the clothing store. "Thanks, Jar."

"Hello! I'm Yarta, and I'm here in the Rags store on the corner of Rock and Stone, speaking to Bobit who owns the Store. Bobit, tell us what has become your number one selling item."

The man held up a palace guard's uniform. "These. I can't keep them in stock. They sell as fast as I get them. Everyone wants to look like the Queen."

"And what do you think of the Queen, Bobit?"

The man smiled broadly. "Long live the Queen! She's an absolute doll, and not bad looking, either. Now remember, we have all sizes in stock, and best of all, these uniforms are made of fifty percent recycled materials."

"Thanks, Bobit." The reporter walked away from the counter. "And that's not all. There is a Drewcila doll. A board game called Salvagers' Paradise. And you can get Queen Qwah trading cards, or a T shirt featuring either the Queen, her sister Stasha, members of the palace guard, or the queen's alien body guard, Van Gar. To top it all off, the Queen has opened her own brewery, and soon you'll be able to go to the store and pick up a six pack of Salvager's Grog. This is the very same beer that they serve in the palace, and the Queen's picture will be on every totally recycled can."

"Marcus!" Zarco screamed. Marcus ran in. "Turn it off! Turn it off!" Marcus turned the set off, and looked with concern into Zarco's crazed eyes.

"You OK?"

"Can't you see, boy? It's too late now! Too late! There's no going back!"

Drew looked at the fancy frocks paraded in front of her, and made a face. She was tired of trying to find something suitable to wear to this banquet thing.

"Enough!" She waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Call Lulu the leather lady."

"Drew, the point was to show the nobles that you can act with regal grace and dignity!" Facto protested.

"Let me tell you something, Facto," Drew said. Then she took a sip of the smoking drink she held in her hand, smiled with appreciation, and went on. "Class has nothing to do with how you dress, or how you act, or how you carry yourself, or even the way you talk."

"Heaven help us," Fitz mumbled.

"What's that?" Drew asked.

"Ah . . . I was just saying that whatever you choose will be heavenly," Fitz stammered, his face scarlet.

Drew laughed, and shook her head. "Stasha, call Lulu. I must have something suitable . . ."

"Just for one night, couldn't you . . . well, wear something tasteful?" Stasha pleaded.

"Leather is tasteful, and it's certainly not cheap."

She thought for a minute, and then turned to Van Gar. "Van, get me Jack Knife."

"The arms dealer? But he's a . . ."

". . . very charming business man. I know. You'll find his code in the files."

"What do I tell him when I reach him?"

"Tell him that Taralin Zarco, Queen of all Gildart, wishes to do business with him. But quickly. What I need, I need within four days."

"Can't you just order it over the computer direct from him?"

Drew looked at Van Gar in disbelief. "No, I can't."

She cut a quick glance at Facto.

"Oh. Oh!" Van nodded his head in understanding. After all, it would be very easy for any member of the staff to access the computer and extract information. There were three common terminals in the building, and Facto, Fitz, and several other upper level staff had their own terminals. With this antiquated system, anyone could link into anyone else's terminal.

Till now there had never been any real need for secrecy within the palace walls. Back in the "good old days," everyone was to be trusted. But that was before Marcus abducted the King and someone tried to kill first Drew and then Margot. Whatever happened, Van Gar had a feeling that trust like that would never again be part of life in the palace. He was shaken from his train of thought by raised voices.

"You still have not explained why you can't deal with an arms dealer from our own country. Or for that matter go through the military." Facto was obviously hot under the collar. "Why would you rather give kingdom funds to some alien instead of your own people!"

"Don't get uppity with me, Fucktoad. I could still have your ass beheaded." She laughed loudly. "Behead your ass, that's funny."

"Perhaps if we knew what it was that you wanted . . ."

"Shut the fuck up, Fatso! You're getting on my nerves, besides which I'm not at all sure that you're not the asshole who keeps trying to kill me, so why the hell would I tell you anything of importance? You are all dismissed. And for the record, I don't mean that in a 'kindly leave so I can get some work done' sort of way. I mean that in a 'you're pestering the shit out of me, get the hell out of my face' way. Stasha, get me Lulu the leather lady. Van Gar, put in that call to Jack Knife."

They started to file out; Fitz stopped in the doorway.