If Wishes . . .
© 2024 by Walter Reimer


His tools clanked together in his canvas bag as Moka Bustani approached the estate’s garden maze at Maratha’s midmorning, the cloudless sky promising a hot afternoon. The tiger’s job today was to trim the barrier hedges back slightly. Trimming the tops would require him to wear an artigrav harness, and he was determined to put that off as long as he could.

Moka’s ears perked at the sight of two Household Guards standing on either side of the entrance. Both were in tactical armor, with their weapons held crosswise across their bodies. Obviously, a member of the Imperial Family was somewhere in the maze.

Recognizing the tiger, one of the guards sidestepped to let him pass; the tiger asked, “Who’s in there?”

“The Emperor,” the lioness replied, taking a paw off her rifle to adjust her armored carapace.

“Said he wanted to wait for you,” her partner added.

Moka’s tail swished. He squared his shoulders and walked past the two guards. He was known, and watched carefully; he’d never given either the Household or Intelligence any reason to doubt his loyalty, and he appeared to genuinely care for young Emperor Vladmir.

But meeting with him would throw off his work schedule. Oh well.

Moka made his way through the maze until he reached the ornamental fountain and reflecting pool at the center of the garden. He set his tool bag down and said, “Good morning, Vladmir.”

The young Indochinese leopard was seated on a carved marble bench facing the statue at the center of the fountain. He twisted around and smiled. “Good morning, Moka! How are you today?”

“Very well,” the tiger said. “How about you?”

The young feline’s smile faltered and he glanced at the statue. The carving was a young feline woman, standing on one tiptoe with her tail whipping about her like a ribbon dancer. It was a design that evoked freedom from care and simple joy in living.

Vladmir was thirteen, but he was male. Moka didn’t mind looking at her either.

“I . . . “ The young leopard stopped and tried again. “Sergeant Okwenda is dead.”

Moka raised an eyebrow as his ears went back momentarily. “Is he?”

Vladmir nodded. “I never really liked him. I didn’t like how he looked at Mother sometimes.” He sighed. “I wish . . . “ He looked at the gardener. “I wish you’d change your mind.”

Moka smiled and sat down beside the younger feline and rested a paw on his shoulder. “Vladmir,” he said, “of course it’d be an honor. But can you see the high and mighty on your Council when they see an old sailor with an artificial leg sitting alongside them, scratching himself and drinking beer?” Vladmir started to laugh and Moka grinned. “And listen.

“You mother’s a wonderful lady, and she’s very nice to let me talk to you the way I do,” the tiger said in an earnest tone, “but she’s really far above me, Vladmir. She deserves better.”

The young leopard pouted and looked down at the water in the reflecting pool for a long moment. “I won’t stop wishing,” he said quietly.

The paw on his shoulder tightened reassuringly, and the two simply sat and looked at the fountain for a while.

Finally Vladmir stood up. “Thanks, Moka.”

“Anytime, Vladmir,” the tiger said as he stood up. The young Emperor started to re-enter the garden maze, headed for the exit, and paused to wave before rounding a corner and disappearing.

Moka Bustani twitched his whiskers and glanced at the fountain’s statue again. Muttering “If wishes were fish, we’d never go hungry,” he went to get his tool bag and get to work.