Aruba FoursomeChapter 4
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The following morning the Duke’s Council, as Andrew insisted on referring to it, met again.
“Has anyone had any major thoughts on what we discussed yesterday?” he asked as everyone settled into their chairs.
“You mean other than that you are mad?” asked Steven.
Andrew grinned, “Yeah, other than that.”
“Not really,” said Steven, “I guess I’m waiting to see how this pans out before I get too excited at the prospects of being a Duke.”
“Me too,” said John. “I keep thinking that we’re just a bunch of kids playing at being grown ups and then, when I remember how the rules had changed and that I am one of the grown ups, it’s a sobering thought.”
“That it is,” agreed Andrew and after a pause he asked, “So is everyone happy to continue as we are for now?”
On receiving three affirmatives he had the AI summon the people it had identified the day before.
“What’s going to happen now,” said Andrew, “is that as the people come in they will be invited to sit. Where they sit determines which of you they will belong to.”
“So that’s why we’re set on the three sides of this table with all the extra chairs,” said Elizabeth.
Her brother grinned at her and nodded.
They didn’t have to wait long before the first man arrived. He stuck his head through the entrance and saw the youngsters sitting there and frowned.
“Excuse me,” he said, “Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
“I’ll do that in a moment, sir,” said Andrew, “We’re just waiting for a few more people to arrive so if you could just take a seat.”
The man looked puzzled but moved forward and sat down on Steven’s side of the table. The procedure was repeated as each person arrived until the nine selectees were seated. When the ninth person had entered the room Captain Wainright appeared and stood at rest by the exit, he looked for all the world as though he was there to ensure that no one left.
Andrew looked at the nine older people around the table, several of whom were becoming agitated, and attempted to smile. “Good Morning,” he began. “For those of you who don’t recognise me I’m Andrew, formerly the Prince of England and now the appointed Governor of Albion.”
When at least two of the newcomers tried to speak Andrew held up his hand. “Please,” he said, “let me finish what I have to say and then we will have time for your questions.”
He waited until everyone had settled down again before continuing.
“How they decided I was to hold that position I can’t say but as the Captain and the AI will confirm it’s now my job. As such I’ve had to decide how the planet is going to be run and who is going to be doing what when we get there.” He managed to smile, “Which brings us round to your part in my nefarious plan.”
“AI, the map please,” he called and a hemispherical slice of Albion appeared on the table. “To make it simple to see where people fit in I am granting titles and positions of authority. These three landmasses are where we will be settling, each of them is to be ruled by a Duke or Duchess.” Andrew looked up from the map and indicated his sister, “The Duchess of Saint David will be ruling this continent which turned yellow, the colour of a daffodil. The Duke of Saint Andrew,” he said indicating Steven, “will rule this continent,” which turned purple, matching the flower of the thistle. “The third continent will be looked after by the Duke of Saint Patrick,” and it duly turned the green of the shamrock.”
“Wait!” he snapped as one of the men started to rise. “You really don’t want to leave before you hear your part in this plan.”
The man sank back into his chair, subdued by the manner in which the former Prince spoke.
“Each of you will be looking after a Province, that’s the area outlined in red, and will have the title of Marquis. Marquis of what will be up to you, but you will make up the advisory body for your respective Duke or Duchess.” He looked around the table and saw a mixture of interest, confusion and disbelief. “And you,” he said indicating the only woman in the newcomers, “will have the title of Marchioness.”
The woman looked up for a moment and then glanced back at the map, “I take it I’ll be expected to take one of these Provinces?” she asked pointing to the continent of Saint Patrick after glancing at John alongside her.
“That’s right,” replied Andrew.
She glanced back at the map and almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was doing, she ran her finger around the coastline of the nearest Province to her.
From a little further down that side of the table a slender man gave a short cough, “If we are running these Provinces, what will we be commanding?”
Andrew smiled to himself, surely this was the Admiral.
“You’ll initially be setting up and looking after a township of about ninety family groups,” he said. “As time goes by you will supervise the establishment of a full infrastructure for your Province, with Counties, other towns and villages as required.”
“And these will all have their own Marquis?” questioned a swarthy looking man from the end of the table.
“No,” said Andrew. “Each Province will have a Marquis, yourselves. The Counties you establish will be the responsibility of a Count and under them will be Barons, who are looking after Manors.”
“That’s pretty medieval,” commented the swarthy man.
“That’s right,” said Andrew, “And until we are established and the planet is populated it’s going to stay that way.”
The woman looked up and asked, curiously, “Why aren’t there any Earls in your scheme?”
Andrew smiled, “Because there isn’t a female equivalent to an Earl,” he said. “The title normally used by a woman in that position back on Earth is Countess and I felt that, as that’s the same title a woman who is a Count would use, it would belittle the position of a female Earl. So I ignored that rank completely. I was considering just using the single title for both sexes but found I couldn’t think of a Lady as a Duke or a Count, so I dropped the one title that didn’t fit.”
Almost without realising it the people around the table had accepted the plan that Andrew put forward, no one suspected that the nannites they’d all received during their medical examinations had anything to do with it. The group settled down to discuss and amend the plan and fill in the details as they went along as if the whole thing had been their own idea.
The first thing that Andrew had them do was introduce themselves, which caused a bit of surprise.
“You don’t know who we are?” asked the man whom Andrew had labelled the Admiral.
“No,” said Andrew, “I asked the AI for people who had experience running various organisations, businesses, the military and that sort of thing, and you nine came out on top. When you entered the room you sat where you wanted, which decreed what continent you’d be on.” Andrew looked around, “It may not have been the most scientific way of doing things, but given that we arrive at Albion in three weeks time and we will have to be ready for that event I had to do something now. I was always told that it is better to do something than sit around dithering and decide what to do too late. At least this way there will be people on hand,” he waved his arm to indicate the people at the table, “to deal with any problems that arise.”
“Then we better make those introductions,” said the man rising to his feet. “My name is Lawrence Ramage and I was an Rear Admiral in the Royal Navy,” he sat down.
The woman who was sat on the same side of the table stood, “I’m Sybil Marlin,” she said, “I was the chairperson of, Oh it doesn’t matter now, call it a fashion business.”
As she sat the third newcomer on that side of the table stood, “My name is David Zayas, I was a chief financial officer of, well, let’s just say that it was a pretty big corporation not that that fact, as Sybil just pointed out, makes much difference anymore.”
He sat down quickly and before anyone else could rise Andrew looked at John, “John, they don’t know you.”
“Oh yes,” said John getting to his feet, “My name is John Prendergast, I er ... urm...”
“And you’re the person I’ve made Duke of Saint Patrick,” said Andrew. He looked around the table, “I know the people I’ve put in as Dukes don’t have the experience that you do but they are my choices and are willing to learn from all of you.”
He allowed his eyes to do a lap of the table before calling, “Steven.”
“I’m Steven Brown, son of George Brown and have been titled the Duke of Saint Andrew.”
As he sat the swarthy man stood, “My name is Ellis Durst, I was a chairman of a manufacturing company.”
The plump man next to him rose to his feet, “Cuthbert Buell,” he said, “Former Managing Director.” He dropped back down and the third man, who Andrew had noted on arrival because of a severe limp simply waved and said, “I’m Jonas Swinney, I was the Chief Geek at a computer firm. Forgive me not rising but I broke a leg a week ago and it’s going to take another couple of days before I get full use of it back.”
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