Collision of Worlds - Chapter 4

Jim stormed into the little corner bar in the brewery district called the Blue Daisy in a foul mood. He needed a drink to take his mind off of just how bad his life had become. Everything had started to fall apart, and he didn’t know just how far things would fall before he hit rock bottom.

Worse, his clothes were uncomfortable and chafed in all of the wrong places. He had never worn uncomfortable clothes in his entire life, and it felt like the embodiment of everything else going wrong.

The problem was that they were expensive but worn too often and poorly cared for. Oliver had explained to him that they would need to be taken to expensive establishments for cleaning, but that was something he just didn’t have time to do. He hated the way he looked in them because it made him look wrong, like a pretentious rich person.

Oliver had bought them and insisted they would make him appear dignified and that would help keep the people on his side. They were the kind of clothes an Admiral should wear, and it would be dangerous to be seen out in public without them. Jim, Oliver explained, had an image to maintain.

They made him feel like he was trying to stand out, though. It was as though he thought he was better than other people, and he hated that. The only part of the outfit he actually liked wearing was the hat.

Of course, that hadn’t been a part of Oliver’s original outfit. No matter how hard Oliver tried to talk him out of it, he would not get rid of his beloved Safari hat. It helped to hide his thinning hair and he thought it looked dashing on him.

But not even his special occasion hat could cheer him out of his foul mood today. He had thought that once they declared him an Admiral, the Royal Family would solidify his position with the ships and manpower to manage his fleet.

They had lied to him and tricked him, getting what they wanted and leaving him out in the cold. He had never realized how far the corruption had spread in the Royal Family and that they were just using him for their own ends.

Truly, he’d never really understood politics.

Which was why he left that side of things up to Oliver. Honestly, it was the only real reason he kept Oliver around at all. Oliver understood how to deal with people, and he took care of the conversations with the rich and powerful so Jim didn’t have to.

For all the good that had done either of them.

Honestly, was it a blessing or a curse that day when Oliver knocked on my door? he wondered.

He was starting to think it might have been a curse. Everything that had happened to him since that fateful day had built him up only to bring him crashing back down to the ground.

“Hello, Jim,” a woman greeted him at the counter. Molly, his favorite bartender, but he doubted even she would be able to raise his dampened spirits.

“Molly,” he said.

She was a tiny thing with green eyes and dimples on her cheeks. He knew she made good money running the bar in tips, and she was a damned good flirt.

“I wasn’t expecting you to step in today,” she offered.

“Neither was I,” Jim said. “I just needed a break. And a drink.”

“Rough day?”

“The worst in a long while,” he said. He fished a credit stick out of his pocket and handed it across the counter to her. She plugged it into her data pad.

“What will you be having?”

“Something cheap, and a lot of it.”

“Coming right up.”

Molly poured him a double shot of something amber colored and then poured herself a shot as well. Whiskey, it looked like.

“To rough days,” she said, holding up her drink in toast. “At least they keep life interesting.”

“You have no idea,” Jim said, clinking glasses. He drained the drink and set it back on the counter. “Pour me out three more of those and something from the local tap, if you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” Molly replied. She filled a mug with draught beer and then poured out three more shots of the cheap whiskey. Then she grabbed a towel and started wiping down the bar. “You heading to the back?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Need some peace and quiet. Is it empty today?”

“Mostly,” she said. “Couple people came in earlier. Some dandy, don’t know his name, but I haven’t seen him in a while. Holler if you need something.”

He quickly downed two of the three shots and then headed farther into the Blue Daisy, carrying the last shot and mug with him. The Daisy was located out near the docks, as far from the spaceport or civilization as Jim could get. He didn’t like to be seen or recognized, so he liked these quiet and remote destinations.

He headed for one of the back rooms that he preferred. There was a sheet of beads covering the entryway, and it didn’t have any windows. He figured he could slip inside, finish his last shot and then nurse his beer for a couple of hours. He hated to admit it, but he was lonely, and he didn’t want to get back to the ship until Oliver was finished at his party.

He rounded the corner, pushed through the beads, and then froze, coming face to face with someone he knew all too well.

No.

Can’t be.

He wouldn’t dare come all the way out here…

“You,” he managed to mutter, his voice a mix of shock and anger.

Hektor Menschen, Admiral of the fleet and cousin of the queen, barely acknowledged Jim Crater’s statement except to smile on his couch, a glass of whiskey in hand. He raised it in toast to Jim, lips curling into a sadistic smile.

“Me?”

Jim strode across the room to where Hektor sat, towering over the smaller man. The room was empty, except for the two of them, but if Hektor was intimidated, he didn’t show it.

Jim felt barely contained anger welling up in his stomach, and his hands were shaking. He put the mug and shot glass on the table and stared at Hektor, clenching and unclenching his fist. Hektor was unfazed.

“Can I order you something?” Hektor asked. “Another drink? Maybe you would prefer something a little bit stronger? I hear this place deals in a large variety of illegal goods, and I’ve heard all sorts of rumors about the things you…partake in.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t aware that my presence would cause such a stir,” Hektor replied, his lips twitching. He dipped a finger into his own glass and stirred the liquid with his finger. Finally, he stuck the finger into his mouth and sucked the liquid off. “I simply came for a drink, not to offend. My sincerest apologies, dear friend.”

“Are you here to mock me?”

“I was simply enjoying a refreshment.”

“You know this is my place.”

“Oh, you have a place now?” Hektor asked, no longer smiling. “Good that you know it is not with my family.”

“You aren’t allowed here.”

“I am allowed anywhere,” Hektor replied icily.

Hektor didn’t fit in at the Blue Daisy at all. Pompous was an apt descriptor. Oliver referred to Hektor as a pretentious fop. Whereas Jim’s hair was short and unkempt, Hektor’s was long and colored silver. He pulled it back into a tight ponytail, every hair perfectly sculpted into position. He had a precise mustache on his lip that matched his hair through use of expensive dyes.

Jim Crater let out a shuddering breath. “You wouldn’t be caught dead in here without a good reason. Which means you are here because of me.”

“Perhaps I am.”

“Why?”

“To see you hiding out here for myself. Why do you attempt to remain out of the spotlight? I’ve known about this place for some time. It’s sad, really. Are you so afraid of your own influence?”

“Maybe I’m scared of what I might do if I run into you in a public place.”

“You don’t intimidate me,” Hektor said airily, sipping his drink. “And you certainly wouldn’t risk killing me. I am above you in station and in quality.”

Jim Crater was certain that if he broke a wooden beam over the pretentious man’s head, he still wouldn’t find a single hair out of place.

If nothing else, he was willing to try.

 “Not here,” Jim corrected. “With what I have in mind for you, death would be a mercy.”

“Strong words from such a weak man. Are you willing to back them up?” Hektor asked.

“Weighing the pros and cons,” Jim Crater said.

He bit back his anger. He knew Hektor was goading him and trying to provoke a response. Any confrontation wouldn’t end well for Jim, so the best thing he could do was get his rage under control. He forced down a few steadying breaths.

“I didn’t come here only to mock you,” Hektor said. “And I know you will never willingly offer yourself up to corporeal punishment over a brawl, even with me. You aren’t an utter buffoon.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“I just came to deliver a message from my cousin the King. Your term as Admiral is nearly up, and they are considering whether to continue allowing you to remain in the position.”

“Admirals serve for life.”

“You don’t. They can’t kick you out of the family, but you are an embarrassment without a fleet. They will remove you shortly and mark you down as a stain in history.”

Jim felt a lump get caught in his throat. Those were absolutely not the terms of his position when he was first given the title, but he’d been expecting this conversation for a while. He knew Hektor was actively working to remove him from his position.

Expecting the conversation, however, didn’t make it any easier to deal with when it came about.

“Of course,” Jim said, refusing to show any of his trepidation.

“You have exactly one week before time runs out. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jim Crater clenched his jaw. “And you’re so sure what that decision will be? They would scrap thousands of years of history to make me the first Admiral to be removed from his position while still alive?”

“Oh no,” Hektor replied smoothly. “I never said anything about you remaining alive. As you said, Admirals can only leave the position one way.”

Jim hesitated. He didn’t know if Hektor meant they would publicly execute him or assassinate him. He supposed that in the end, it didn’t really matter: whatever the Royal Family decided would happen either way.

“In any case, I just wanted to make sure you were aware that you would only have one more week to enjoy the perks this life has offered you.”

With that, Hektor drained his glass of whiskey and set it on the counter. He wiped his mouth and smiled at Jim before speaking again.

“You know, here I was worrying all day about the meeting between you and Lady Margaret Cortet. My sweet little sister told me you’d been invited to a banquet by the family, but somehow I just knew you wouldn’t attend. Even trained monkeys dislike wearing costumes.”

He flashed Crater a final smile, dropped a few credits onto the table, and disappeared through the beads toward the front of the bar. He was whistling, and the sound ripped into Jim’s skull. Crater stood there, struggling to maintain his composure. Suddenly he needed to punch something.

2

Jim was fuming as he stormed through the Davenport Market, heading toward the wealthy district on the other side of the city. “Those lazy good for nothing...” he mumbled absently, talking about no one in particular.

His senses were assaulted on all sides by myriad sights, sounds, and smells of the marketplace. He barely noticed any of it as he strode past outdoor kiosks where merchants were peddling a variety of goods, weaving through the crowd and bumping into pedestrians as he went.

One man was selling a bucketful of silver eels writhing over one another like snakes. They were delicious when stewed with peppers, but their small bones could be a choking hazard if prepared improperly.

Another man sold small green pastries made of a sweet and sour fruit, and a small woman ran alongside passersby hoping to find customers for her collection of holdout pistols. She didn’t seem to recognize Jim as an Admiral, but she did sense his foul mood enough to at least steer clear of him.

He was grateful.

This was the only place in the city that still attempted to foster human interaction. Most transactions were handled digitally and rarely in person. This market was modeled after the fish markets on Geid and was always loud and boisterous. Many people loved it.

But Jim, on the other hand, had actually been to Geid. He knew of the poverty and devastation those people faced to keep food on the tables of the nobility living here. It disgusted him watching well-dressed and rich citizens wandering through this outdoor market and pretending to understand.

These people were born into money and hadn’t worked a day in their lives. They thought this market was meant to honor the people of Geid, but all it did was make a mockery of them.

Jim passed through the market and onto one of the side streets, heading toward a district of expensive mansions. Oliver had been right: It was a beautiful day in the city, which was rare this time of year. The weather was cold at best and usually snowing this late in the season.

He needed to find Oliver. All of the accounts were in both of their names, and Jim needed Oliver to withdraw all of his funds. He would take whatever money he had left and leave the Indeil Kingdom for Terminus and the Republic beyond.

It was a painful decision, but it would spare him the embarrassment of losing his status. He’d given his entire life over to the Kingdom, first in his years of service in the Royal Navy, then as a private citizen, and now as an Admiral, and he would be damned if he would stick around to watch them take it all away.

Maybe he could work as a trade liaison for Oliver and their booming business. He knew that Oliver would have no issue sticking around in the Kingdom: he’d never been raised to the same status as Jim, and he was better at fitting in and not getting squashed by the powerful people.

Especially when there was money to be made. Maybe Jim could serve as a contact to help build their business and make a fortune. It would be of slim value compared to his dream of being an Admiral, but it was better than nothing.

It would be better for Oliver, too, when he really thought about it. Oliver had managed to use their new circumstances to make a small fortune. Without Jim getting in the way, it would be easier to leverage his fame for even more wealth and power.

“Out of my way,” Jim growled, pushing his way through the crowd.

He would go to the silly party and find Oliver, withdraw his funds, and then leave. He could see the writing on the walls. Right now all he cared about was getting out of the Kingdom before Hektor could find him and lob more insults his direction.

Or worse, before he followed through with his promise and murdered Jim.