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A mournful squeak accompanies Molly as she pushes the gate open and enters Wally's Oyster Bar, leaving behind the steady rain. Through the dingy gloom, she identifies Pingo by his splashy bowtie as he stands in a recess at the back.
"New neckwear?" she asks. The tie never wholly hides the camera and voice recorder, and Molly rolls her eyes as she enters the alcove.
"Your Highness," begins Pingo, and Molly hisses wordlessly at him. "Ma'am," he responds, and she nods.
"I bring word from the palace."
"Of course you do." A server enters the alcove and, at Pingo's pointed look, wipes off the table before setting a bowl of dried krill and two cocktails down—the official Bozartene drink, the Beaux Artes Blue (pronounced in the Bozart capitol city patois as 'Bex Artie's Bleh'). Pingo raises his glass to Molly and begins to sing the national anthem; Molly stomps on his webbed foot to stop him. "Please, can we forgo the formalities? I'll be late to Interplanetary Economics as it is." Molly has been late three times this semester and is about to be kicked out, but this she doesn't tell Pingo.
The server looks slightly offended at Pingo's lack of formality but, wary of his potential tip, merely puts his beak in the air and moves away from the table.
Dusting krill crumbs off his lower lip, Pingo tells Molly, "Doesn't matter, ma'am."
"What? What do you mean? Of course it matters."
"You won't need to go to class today. In four days, the Queen welcomes you back into the warm folds of the palace."
"No. I'm not finished with my classes. She promised three full years!" For emphasis, Molly bangs her glass on the table, sloshing the blue fluid over the rim.
Pingo steps back to save his embroidered vest from the dripping Artes. "Yes, she did. But the situation has changed, and you must return to your duties." The server rushes over to mop up.
Molly lowers her voice and hisses, "As Second Daughter, I don't have any duties."
Pingo fiddles with his glass, and then he tosses its contents down his gullet.
"Your sister, the Most Divine Highness Binky, is preparing for her betrothal, and protocol says you must attend the betrothal festivities."
"Protocol. Fine. Three days and nights of dancing with diplomats. But I'm coming back after that. She promised!"
"Yes, she promised, and the Queen never reneges on a promise." Pingo straightens his tie and surreptitiously clicks off the recording.
Surprised, Molly leans in and notices a greedy gleam in his right eye. "You turned it off? Why, Pingo?"
"I don't think your returning to your studies is currently in the cards, but you know I am an expert at Court Binochle."
Molly rolls her eyes. "Oh goody," she says. "More intrigue."
Pingo makes his customary noise with his throat, a cross between a honk and a squeal. "A journalist is snooping around. She'll be at the party, and the Queen is concerned that your cover story has too many holes. If you were to attempt to stay in school against the Queen's wishes, the journalist would find you, and you'd be exposed and ostracized as a member of the family shirking their royal duties. In short, you’ll have to leave quickly, and when the Queen says leave, she means that if you do not return to court, you must leave Bozart City, if not the country."
Molly snorts in disgust, her version of her customary noise. "How is that supposed to happen?"
Pingo continues, "Well. There’s a university project coming up; my private consortium is funding it, and so is the palace; you should find that amusing. Your department wants to send three students on field trips to other planets. You could be one of them."
"Other planets? Frosty! But... you think the Queen would accept that?"
"You would be off-planet, and the off-planet work will not be reported until you return." That noise again. "I'm sure I can bring the Queen to agree to my suggestion."
"Oh, I see. So if I go, that would work out for the palace because if and when I'm found out, I wouldn't be just a royal shirker; I'd be conducting scientific research for the good of the nation, and she could eventually brag about that in polite company. I assume it's for the good of the nation?"
"Umm. Yeah. You've got it. We are as one."
Back to Molly New Arc
Wally's Oyster Bar. Image Credit: MidJourney and K. Kris Hirst
A mournful squeak accompanies Molly as she pushes the gate open and enters Wally's Oyster Bar, leaving behind the steady rain. Through the dingy gloom, she identifies Pingo by his splashy bowtie as he stands in a recess at the back.
"New neckwear?" she asks. The tie never wholly hides the camera and voice recorder, and Molly rolls her eyes as she enters the alcove.
"Your Highness," begins Pingo, and Molly hisses wordlessly at him. "Ma'am," he responds, and she nods.
"I bring word from the palace."
Pingo, a courtier in Queen Smeralldina's court. Image Credit: MidJourney and K. Kris Hirst
"Of course you do." A server enters the alcove and, at Pingo's pointed look, wipes off the table before setting a bowl of dried krill and two cocktails down—the official Bozartene drink, the Beaux Artes Blue (pronounced in the Bozart capitol city patois as 'Bex Artie's Bleh'). Pingo raises his glass to Molly and begins to sing the national anthem; Molly stomps on his webbed foot to stop him. "Please, can we forgo the formalities? I'll be late to Interplanetary Economics as it is." Molly has been late three times this semester and is about to be kicked out, but this she doesn't tell Pingo.
The server looks slightly offended at Pingo's lack of formality but, wary of his potential tip, merely puts his beak in the air and moves away from the table.
Dusting krill crumbs off his lower lip, Pingo tells Molly, "Doesn't matter, ma'am."
"What? What do you mean? Of course it matters."
"You won't need to go to class today. In four days, the Queen welcomes you back into the warm folds of the palace."
"No. I'm not finished with my classes. She promised three full years!" For emphasis, Molly bangs her glass on the table, sloshing the blue fluid over the rim.
Pingo steps back to save his embroidered vest from the dripping Artes. "Yes, she did. But the situation has changed, and you must return to your duties." The server rushes over to mop up.
Molly lowers her voice and hisses, "As Second Daughter, I don't have any duties."
Pingo fiddles with his glass, and then he tosses its contents down his gullet.
The Bozartene Beaux Artes Cocktail (ritual size) and its inventor. Image Credit: MidJourney and K. Kris Hirst
"Your sister, the Most Divine Highness Binky, is preparing for her betrothal, and protocol says you must attend the betrothal festivities."
"Protocol. Fine. Three days and nights of dancing with diplomats. But I'm coming back after that. She promised!"
"Yes, she promised, and the Queen never reneges on a promise." Pingo straightens his tie and surreptitiously clicks off the recording.
Surprised, Molly leans in and notices a greedy gleam in his right eye. "You turned it off? Why, Pingo?"
"I don't think your returning to your studies is currently in the cards, but you know I am an expert at Court Binochle."
Molly rolls her eyes. "Oh goody," she says. "More intrigue."
Pingo makes his customary noise with his throat, a cross between a honk and a squeal. "A journalist is snooping around. She'll be at the party, and the Queen is concerned that your cover story has too many holes. If you were to attempt to stay in school against the Queen's wishes, the journalist would find you, and you'd be exposed and ostracized as a member of the family shirking their royal duties. In short, you’ll have to leave quickly, and when the Queen says leave, she means that if you do not return to court, you must leave Bozart City, if not the country."
Molly snorts in disgust, her version of her customary noise. "How is that supposed to happen?"
Molly in camouflage on campus during the dry season. Image Credit: MidJourney and K. Kris Hirst
Pingo continues, "Well. There’s a university project coming up; my private consortium is funding it, and so is the palace; you should find that amusing. Your department wants to send three students on field trips to other planets. You could be one of them."
"Other planets? Frosty! But... you think the Queen would accept that?"
"You would be off-planet, and the off-planet work will not be reported until you return." That noise again. "I'm sure I can bring the Queen to agree to my suggestion."
"Oh, I see. So if I go, that would work out for the palace because if and when I'm found out, I wouldn't be just a royal shirker; I'd be conducting scientific research for the good of the nation, and she could eventually brag about that in polite company. I assume it's for the good of the nation?"
"Umm. Yeah. You've got it. We are as one."
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