Reference Point
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Stanislaus Coon, Ivar Vargsson, and the Commander are courtesy of E.O. Costello.)

Thumbnail art by  tegerio



The transport I was on went into hyperspace as soon as it was safe to do so. It was anticipated that it would take about eight hours to reach Maratha, and I really had no desire to mingle with the other members of ‘M’s’ Intelligence staff. I also didn’t want to go over my report, my notes, or Bustani’s dossier again.

My cabin was comfortable, and according to my padd it was free of surveillance devices. As we inphased, I accessed a view from outside the ship just in time to see the starfield flip from white stars on black to black stars on white, and then to an utterly featureless black. After a few moments I heard a lupine huff and from a corner of my mind I heard Ivar say, “Stanislaus.”

“Yes, Ivar?”

The wolf said in a tolerant tone, “There is, according the best scientific minds Terra has, literally nothing out there.” He was right; the image was entirely black. “You are not in a position to contemplate the Infinite just yet.” One eyebrow raised as his ears went back. “That’s my job.”

There was a pause and I chuckled. “Heh. You’re right.” I switched the image, bringing up some data on the world I was going to, and I started reading as the image of a verdant world appeared over my padd.

“I’m very pleased that I’ve succeeded in extricating you from your brown study,” Ivar said. “I do consider myself something of a Renaissance fur. Talented amateur, I think the expression was. In any event, I prefer cheerful surroundings. Hence, my intervention.”

“Thank you.”

“The inestimable Dr. Nushaar would very much appreciate my efforts, I think.” He regarded the hologram. “Hmm! A marked contrast with Terra. I can see why the Emperor would prefer to lodge there.”

“More like that’s what his mother wants,” I said, “and I’m sure the Government would like to keep him at arm’s length at least until he’s old enough to take over.” I kept my voice low, despite assurances from Directorate III’s Technical Branch that, as long as I kept my voice down and my padd close to me, it was impossible to detect what I was saying.

Not bound by either decorum or lèse-majesté laws, Ivar nodded. “Better to let him be a child, and grow up somewhat, before hurling him into duties and burdens. One might be permitted to hope that he’s been educated to fit his role.”

“He is, if one believes the infonets.” I read a bit further, and the image of the planet was replaced with a tree. It was vast, composed of a large number of trunks, and while it was not the same as the collection and distribution apparatus near the Sixth Directorate, it looked far older and more venerable. “Here’s a bit of trivia for you,” I said. “It’s a type of tree called a banyan.”

“Impressive.”

“Yes. According to this, the al-Sakai family planted it when they first colonized the planet. It’s used to mark the intersection of zero longitude and zero latitude.”

Ivar swiveled his ears. “And now it’s the centerpiece of the park on the family estate,” he observed. “Excellent planning.”

“Hmm, yes.”

I came out of my cabin to have dinner with the rest of the staff. A few looked at me curiously, but no one tried to talk to me. Word had apparently gotten around that Colonel Mirsky had been bumped from his usual place beside ‘M’, while the transport had paused at Headquarters so I could come aboard. One or two actually appeared afraid when I caught them looking at me, and I took my dessert back to my cabin with me rather than ruin any more appetites.

I was never one for sweets, but the cheesecake was very good.

With his penchant for treating dining as a religious rite, Ivar approved. “The cheesecake was, in fact, excellent, with a good balance of cracker crumbs to filling, and blueberries that were fresh.” I refrained from making a remark about food critics.

By the time we entered orbit I had finished eating, gotten cleaned up, and was in a clean uniform and ready to go when the word came from the ship’s command center that it was time to get on the shuttles. Considering the status of the Regency Council members, the pilots were very skillful and the ride down was smooth.

The Regency Council consisted of the Prime Minister, several members of the Cabinet, the Admiral-General – and ‘M,’ of course. They were chauffeured to rooms at the estate, while the rest of us were housed at the military spaceport. We’d be brought over the next morning, with the first plenary session starting at about ten local.

Ivar had taken his usual position of lounging against a wall, partly hidden in the shadows. “Relate to me, my dear Stanislaus, your plan of action. Informing me informs you as well.”

I glanced at the agenda. “Well, we all have to be there for the first session, which runs from ten to twelve and His Majesty will be present. After thirteen, each individual ministry will meet with the Council. The Emperor may be present for some of those.” I grinned wryly. “Knowing ‘M,’ he’s figured out a way to allow me to go exploring – and encounter a certain gardener.”

Ivar flicked an ear. “So?”

“Well, he’s a gardener,” I said, “so I plan on starting from that banyan tree and working my way outward. I’m sure I’ll run into him sometime.”

“An elegant plan,” the wolf conceded. “You get to walk about in a park, and be able to interview him on his home ground, as it were, without him being prepared for questioning. An elegant plan, my dear Stanislaus.” His tail wagged. “Clearly, I am a good influence on you.”

I decided to let that one pass, and got ready for bed.