“What’s behind curtain number one?” Now we know. This is, obviously, me ripping off Tolkien; I’ve long said that all writers “borrow” from one another, but “ripping off” sounds better.

This wraps up the Alvarez’s visit to Ekaterinburg. I’ll gloss their trip to the dams and move things along to their stop in what is de facto imperium territory. It will be a much more relaxed visit as everyone is on the same side. Once that is completed, I’ll close Part Three. Part Four still only exists as notes as I still don’t know what I’m doing with Alicia.

Below, Count Lavrov really steps in it, doesn’t he?

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

The curtains suddenly back, there was a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall glass window.  No more than ten kilometers away was the Argonath, the cut which lead into the greatest canyon in the solar system.  Some work had been done to shape the stone on the left side into a kind of column, perhaps preparatory to further work.  But on the right…

“Dear God,” Saras gasped.  “That’s Kira!”

Over half a mile tall, carved from living rock, was Kira Romanov, Midwife of Mars.  Her hewn clothes were that of a Russian saint, with her right up, palm out, at chest level, with her left lower, making a delicate gesture Saras knew was religious, but didn’t know the meaning.

“Being Russian, and of the Imperial family, we thought we’d do her, first,” Ivan said, enjoying the mortals’ reactions.  “There is still talk about who gets the other spot.”

“I just… it was just a comment of mine…” Anton was astonished to see his wife completely at a loss.

“And a good one, too!” the lad nearly crowed.  “Maybe we’ll put you next to her.”

“I’m just a mutt,” she looked away and down, blinking her bright eyes.  “Do not.  Pick my empress; your emperor.  Leave me out of this.”

“Not really for me to say.  Oh, I hear food on the way.  Anton?  Wake my friend and everyone find a spot, well, with you three looking out the window.  Gaze upon what we in the Russian Empire, Machine, demi, and human, can accomplish.”

The three guests got a kind of sweet-and-sour chicken likely costing a hundred rubles per plate.  Anton saw Konev had a dark, sour smelling soup.  There was a plate before Ivan, but of course nothing on it.

“When I once met Minerva, who used to be a part of your mother,” Saras said to Ivan after dabbing at her mouth with a cloth napkin, “she said that her skin was alive.  She had to feed it a solution through a port under her arm.  If I may, is that form similar?”

“Very,” the lad nodded, not at all put out by her question.  “We brought our own as well as enough raw materials to cobble together more in case of a problem.”

Anton tried to veer the conversation back to his mission.

“You said you were aware of Count Lavrov’s demands,” he said carefully, cutting some of the chicken on his son’s plate.  “Do you, and your mother, consider them to be reasonable?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Konev look at his charge.

“I have no idea what Mom thinks about all this,” he smiled.  “Me?  The Governor-General is out of his mind.  The Jap warships can interdict all shipping and the imperium could fire plague ships at fifteen Gs into the Martian atmosphere.  We all must continue to do what we are doing now:  talk.”

“Thank you, Master Mendrovovitch,” Anton said with a nod.

“It’s Ivan!  We’re friends!”

“Ivan’s my friend!” the smaller Anton yelled across the table.  He got a glare from his father for doing it with food in his mouth.

The smaller sun was just to the top of the Tharsis plateau to the west when they left the restaurant.  Four of five of them back in suits.  At the bottom of five steps on the sidewalk were a half-dozen men with three cars on the road behind them.  At the head of the party was a very unhappy Count Lavrov.

He waited for them to descend to street level.  Knowing who the Alvarez’s were, he concluded the off-planet troublemaker must be the obviously Russian older man.

“You are in violation of not just city law, but the planet-wide requirement that all minors wear a skinsuit,” he began.  “Your name and assignment?  And, why did you not check in with my Office upon your arrival here?”

Unable to look at him, Saras hoped her husband was finding this unfolding scene as funny as she was.

“I am Sergei Konev, Imperial Army, retired,” he began.  “I was asked to be here.  As for his suit?  The young master can address that himself.”

“I have no intention of talking to a child, Konev,” Lavrov almost growled.  “Who the hell asked you to be here?”

“I did,” Ivan replied.  With no smile at all.  “It appears you must talk to this child, Count.”

Once again off balance, Lavrov paused only a moment.

“Fine.  And you are?” he demanded.

“Ivan Pavlovovich Mendrovovich.”

Another pause.

“There are many with that surname,” he tried, “especially from around St. Petersburg.  Don’t think you can bullshit your way – ”

“She’s my mother.”

Just behind the Count, the other five stirred and looked at one another.

“Impossible!  A Machine cannot…!”

The street lights, and those of many of the buildings, were just coming on in the dusk.  They abruptly went out.

“Yes, they can.  Do you challenge me, my authority, my power, Count?”

At least fifteen seconds passed.

“No.  I apologize.”

The lights came back on.

“You are relieved of all duties associated with the Alvarez’s diplomatic mission, including the visit to the dams tomorrow,” Ivan called, still without a smile.  “Once they are on their way to their next destination, I shall call upon you in your office.  Clear?”

“Yes.  Clear.” He turned about and waved his people into their cars.  When the last door shut, Ivan burst out laughing.

“I do so love play acting like that!” he almost shouted, holding his sides.  “Sergei says I’m being rude, but it’s just too much fun!”

Letting go of his father’s hand, Anton walked over, helped his new friend stand, and gave him a big hug.

“Best friend!” the little one cried.

“Yes, yes,” the lad replied, holding him, too, before looking over his shoulder.  “Back to your hotel suite.  Follow the same itinerary for tomorrow.  But it’s with me and Sergei, instead.  So, we’ll pick you up after breakfast, over to the hydroelectric complex, back for lunch, then you all off to Macon and the imperium.  Got all that?”

“Certainly, Ivan,” Anton finally allowed a little smile.  “Come, son…”

“Can I have a sleepover with my friend?” the boy asked.

Ivan arched his eyebrows. 

“Nothing more important than family.  Your call.”

A glance had only a tiny nod from his wife.

“Of course!  If you need anything from his kit…” Anton began.

“He will lack nothing from me,” Ivan talked over him.  “And know that you have my personal thanks for this.  I’ve been camping in Russia with Sergei and some of his family and friends.  I’ve never had my own friend to a… sleepover.  Let’s go, Sergei!”

They waited while the two and their son walked away in the gathering evening.

“Safer than with us, you said?” he asked Saras.

“Yes.  You just saw a demonstration of that.  Aqua is the only one here who could gainsay him.”

“Well, then,” he said with a deep breath, taking her hand, and moving them out, “that leaves that entire suite to us.  Alone, even.”

“Heavens, my dear husband!  Will you ever let poor Alicia sleep?”