Regnar's Task: (A Novel Set in the Future)

By Margie Aughty

Regnar, a young man living on Azure (formerly the Earth) is shocked to be told that he is a son of the emperor of the Imperium, the government of all of the inhabited planets, and that he is expected to go to its capital, The Orb, to be acknowledged by the emperor as a legitimate son, along with nearly one hundred and fifty other menhis half-brothers. Each is given a task, some activity that will benefit a planet other than his own.
While they wait for their assignments, the princes occupy themselves, as each has the inclination to do. The Emperor uses what he learns from observing them as an additional factor, along with the handling of the task, to help him decide which shall be chosen as Crown Prince to become emperor when the current man passes away.
Regnars Task involves physical suffering as he prepares for it and unimagined (to him) adventure in an environment completely different from that of his own. He is required to forgo any relationships with his half-brothers and friends, and with the girl he admires, until he has finished it. Even then, will he be thought worthy to be Crown Prince?
A surprise ending will leave the reader wanting more!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Oct 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490715506

Margie Aughty

Although her BA degree from USC (University of Southern California) (Phi Beta Kappa) was in International Relations, Margie’s working years mostly were involved with various aspects of publications. A chance apprenticeship helping to create a short book on the physics of super-sonic speed convinced her that technical writing was the challenging and useful career for her. As an employee of a company that supplied writers and editors as civilian workers for The U.S. Navy, The Air Force, and NASA, she moved from place to place writing or editing informational booklets on the exciting new equipment being developed for space ventures. Later, in order to provide a more stable life for her growing daughters, she took a job creating ‘how-to’ pamphlets for musical equipment.

Book preview

Prologue

Mankind had reached out to the stars,

and settled compatible planets. It

had spread fingers into the universe,

carrying with it that which it could

not abandon: its human nature, with

all of good and bad which that implies.

Chapter 1

E ating his breakfast with one hand, Regnar flipped through a few news sheets with his other, and snorted as he read a headline. Look at that! he exclaimed in disgust to his mother, who was just coming in from outdoors. The Gathering! They must be hard up for news; this is the fourth day in a row that it’s been the top story.

Activities on a distant planet seemed of remote interest here on Azure, even if the Orb was the capitol of the Imperium and location of the government of all these colony worlds.

"Well, it is an important event," his mother responded moderately.

‘As the time draws near for the youngest of the Emperor’s sons to reach his majority, the princes are gathering at the capital for this momentous event’ he read. "‘Hotels are filled to capacity with the entourages from distant places, although all of the princes themselves are being accommodated within the palace grounds.’

‘Speculation is intense regarding the identity and character of the youngest of the princes, whose attainment of majority triggers this momentous event.’ He read on, ‘Each prince is expected to perform some deed of benefit to the public in order to demonstrate his abilities, so that The Emperor may choose the most worthy as his successor.’

Poor bastards, Regnar observed, looking up at his mother with a rueful grimace. A contest of good deeds! And most of them will end up going back to being nobodies when it’s over. Just poor bastards, he repeated.

That sounds disloyal, his mother responded sharply.

I call it obscene, Regnar replied heatedly. Going around impregnating women all over the Empire whether they want you or not, and leaving the poor kids to grow up ignorant of who their father really is.

"It’s the custom, son, and it ensures that there will be good, strong genes in the imperial family and The Emperor will be someone who’s really worthy.

A contest to decide who will be Emperor! It’s a wonder they don’t kill each other.

A man who did that would never be acknowledged as Emperor.

Oh, Mom, you just can’t imagine how it would be for a fellow.

I’ve certainly tried, she replied, sitting down opposite him. Regnar gave her his customary smile. He was so very fond of this young-looking lady who was his mother. They were perfect pals, and he always felt free to express himself candidly with her. Mostly she already seemed to know how he would react to things.

He was offended by this event; how could she bring him to say the things that were deep within him? The princes can only do their best at the tasks assigned them, she said. Perhaps they don’t want to be in that position: their normal lives disrupted, everyone knowing about—their birth and so forth, maybe wanting the big prize, maybe scared. How would you feel if it were you?

It was his nature that he truly considered her question, not giving a flip answer.

I guess I’d be one of those who’d be scared. Imagine facing the possibility of being made Emperor; being responsible for—all that! He flung his arms wide, to take in all that they knew of the universe.

I suppose that one could do poorly on his assigned task, she said. Then there would be no worry about being chosen Emperor, or even being given a post in the government. One could just take his annuity and go back to wherever he came from."

And what? Live in shame? he interrupted. "A guy’d just have to try to do his deed, even if he hated it."

Why? she prompted.

For his own self-respect, Regnar answered sharply, looking swiftly at her in surprise that she wouldn’t have known that for herself.

How could he have any self-respect to start with, she asked, then. "If he knew he was a bastard, just the product of some scheme to provide sons for The Emperor?"

Self-respect comes from what you are inside, you know that, Mother. A person can’t help how he came to be born! It’s what he’s done as he grew up that makes him a man or a pathetic creature.

His mother smiled, and Regnar laughed. You suckered me into that, didn’t you? he asked, giving her arm a playful shove. Just like to hear me spout about high morals and all that honor stuff you’ve been feeding me all my life.

I do like to hear you talk, she admitted. More coffee? She got up and moved to the stove, her back to him.

Thanks.

"Well, I hope that a lot of what I’ve talked about over the years has sunk in, she said, fiddling with the coffee pot. I hope that if you have to face a trial of some sort you’ll make me and your father proud."

Regnar moved to get up, but she motioned him to remain seated.

I’ve told you a very bad lie, my son, and it has hurt me to do it. Now that you are to be a man—legally—I have to tell you— She stopped, unable to step over that boundary that she had observed for so long.

Go on, he said, and his voice sounded a little deeper than she remembered its being. His eyes drilled into her face; she forced herself to look at him: her handsome son. Those candid eyes which could become introspective or determined, the mobile lips, the fair skin, the image of the man she had loved.

Your father did not die on his flight from here to Ohryan; he’s still alive. She could feel the tension that sprang through his body.

He deserted you? Us? Then to hell with him! I don’t want to know him!

"No, no. It wasn’t that! He wanted to stay—so much! He swore he wouldn’t go back, that he’d give up everything; but of course I couldn’t let him do that! I loved him so, and I couldn’t cause him to dishonor himself. I made him go."

Was he already married?

She did not answer that, but went on, I fell in love with him the first time I saw him, coming down the ramp from the ship. There were lots of officials there, and he was wearing just a commander’s uniform, but my eyes went right to him; I was taken with him in an instant. Later he told me that he had felt that current between us, too, but he had gone past, then, and he couldn’t do anything about it right then. Eventually we met again; I’ll tell you about it when we have time. We had wonderful days together, and he wanted to stay. He said that he’d done his duty, and now he wanted something for himself.

Regnar now got up, and moving to her, he put his arm around her shoulders.

It’s ok, Mom. I don’t mind being a love child if that’s really how it was. After all, if princes can live with being bastards, so can I.

He would have continued, but a gesture of her fingers toward his lips made him pause.

"That’s just it, my darling son. You are a prince."

His expression was blank as he looked down at her. She wondered if she had really said the words aloud or, as she had so many times in practice, only mouthed them to herself.

Do you hear? Her voice was low but firm. "You are a prince, a son of The Emperor; the last son of The Emperor, she went on quickly, to get it all out before something should stop her. And they are waiting for you. They are all waiting for you, who will be of age: twenty-five, next month."

He turned away, picked up his wallet and keys.

Regnar!

Time to get to work! At the door he stopped for a moment, then turned and gave her a full, grave look. I have to think about this, he said.

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Think? How could he think about it? It was so improbable, so strange. Here he was, in his own home. He walked out and got into his vehicle. The streets were comfortably familiar: houses, vegetation, signs. At the office he went in and the heavy door closed behind him with a satisfying whoosh; he was in the well-appointed offices of the moderately prestigious engineering firm that had employed him right out of school. It had seemed to him to be exactly the right firm for him at this stage in his life, a firm that would give him experience and allow him to advance as he became more capable. He nodded to the receptionist and went on to his ‘office’, just a cubicle, really, but private, and there on his desk were the figures he’d been working on yesterday.

He sat down and picked up a stylus.

‘A prince?’ he thought, ‘I’m a prince? What kind of life does a prince live? I guess he doesn’t punch up numbers all day. Does he give orders? About what? They’ll want me to go to The Orb, won’t they? What are the others like?’ The questions whirled past him like meteorites; there was no time to answer them.

Jerry put his head in the door. Hello, hello? Where are you? Have you met the girl of your dreams or what? You’ve been sitting there like a goof ever since you came in.

Jerry!

Yep, that’s me. Very good. Now, what day is it? Are we going to finish this report or what?

I feel strange, Regnar answered.

"Yeah, well, you look strange. Jerry came in and shut the door, leaning on it. What’s up?"

I guess I’ll have to leave the firm.

Leave! Why? What did you do? Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. Come on, Reg, you couldn’t do anything so bad that they’d can you! You’re the fair-haired boy around here, and I mean more than literally.

Regnar smiled at his friend and stood up, which put them face to face in the small room.

You’d go with me, wouldn’t you, Jerry?

Maybe, his friend answered, dubiously. Where, and for how long?

The Orb. And I don’t know.

The capitol? Hey, we couldn’t even get a bunk in a third-rate hotel, if they have such things there. There’s big doings on, you know. What’s gotten into you?

Regnar did not know how he would have answered; his phone rang just then.

It’s your mother, said her familiar voice. You should come home now; there are people here to talk to you.

All right, he answered briefly, and switched off.

Jer, he said tentatively, suddenly shy of his lifelong friend.

Your mom sick?

No. Stick by me, will you?

Sure. You want me to go with you now?

No. Later. Call me, or I’ll call you.

He moved to squeeze past Jerry and open the door. I have to go home, he said, and Jerry, looking at his departing back, shook his head in puzzlement. It wasn’t like Regnar to be vague or obscure in either speech or action, but today he was both. Jerry thought it likely that his first, off-hand guess about him having fallen for a girl must be right. What else made a guy act like that? And he knew that there had been few girls that Reg was really interested in, so he might be hard hit by the real thing.

Still, that wouldn’t make him leave the firm. Even if there were a woman here who interested Reg, so what? As long as they kept it low key, what difference would it make?

Jerry went back into his own cubicle, across the hall from Reg’s, and sat, pondering. He was here because of Reg, he believed. Not that he had been a poor student; a little more than average, actually, but an established firm like this usually took in only one junior member at a time, and they had actively recruited Regnar. Then, inexplicably, they had given him an offer, and who would turn down a chance like that? When he and Reg had been put on the same assignments as partners, Jerry had decided that he was probably riding on Reg’s coattails. Certainly Reg could do his work without Jerry’s help. It would have been easy to become offended, resentful, but all things considered it was a nice arrangement. He was getting experience that would help his career; he was making good money (terrific money, for a person just out of school); he was working with his friend. How could he lose?

Even if Regnar left the firm, as he had just mentioned, Jerry didn’t have to. He felt sure that he’d shown that he was a good employee in his own right. Yet, Reg had asked him to stick by him. Did that mean that he wanted Jerry to leave, too? Jerry didn’t know enough about what was going on to make any kind of decision, so why not wait and see? Surely their friendship was an established thing. What could interfere with that?

They had been friends since boyhood, when they had both been put into the same classroom, for the second grade. As time went by they got to know each other well, but their mutual activities were only at school. Jerry was never invited to Regnar’s house, nor was Reg allowed to go into Jerry’s. The mothers at school said that Reg’s mother was ‘stuck-up’; thought herself too good for the rest of them. Not that she had anything to be stuck up about, they added: a lone woman without any visible support, who had a son and said that she was a widow, but who knew?

It made no difference to Jerry, except that their interactions were often truncated and, not knowing how Reg’s home life really was, Jerry imagined the mother as a stern disciplinarian who never gave Reg a hug as his mother did. As they matured he could see that Reg was genuinely fond of his mother, and spoke of her as a person with whom he shared good times and exchanged thoughts. His conversations often included the phrase ‘Mother and I were talking the other night, and we agreed that—"

Yes, Reg was a mother’s boy, Jerry thought, and that etched away a little of his respect for his friend. ‘I wonder what he would do if he had to live on his own,’ Jerry sometimes thought. It was a real surprise when Reg got a part-time job the year before he started college, and kept it all the way through. He kept up his grades, too. Jerry admired that; well, heck! he admired almost everything about his friend. He had become especially grateful that Reg wasn’t much interested in girls; they were crazy about him, but he never really paired up with one for long. That left Jerry a mostly clear field.

Jerry became aware that something was surging through the office: that sub-rosa excitement, like when someone has unexpectedly been fired, or the chairman of the board suddenly shows up in the lobby. He raised his head, and could see through the intervening layers of glass that a group was huddled by the receptionist’s desk. Hurriedly he jumped up and began to walk toward them. All the cubicles he passed were empty. After a few paces he could see that their faces were showing stunned surprise; some, even, unbelief. The receptionist was shaking her head.

I know it seems crazy, but I heard it on the news. Tune it in yourself if you don’t believe me.

What’s happened? Jerry asked lightly. Did someone win the lottery?

Well, sort of, someone replied. It’s hard to believe, that’s for sure—Gen, here, says that your pal Regnar is the Imperial Prince from here.

Jerry looked at the man; he could not say anything. His skin stood up in goose-bumps. Reg’s enigmatic remarks this morning became perfectly understandable.

I suppose he could be, he said at last, slowly. He’s always been kind of—special.

The group fell silent. Betty Hollis, the usually stern-faced and businesslike secretary to the first vice-president, jumped up impulsively, her face flushed with excitement. I’m going to ask the boss, she said, to everyone’s amazement. She never called him anything except ‘Mr. Stonely’, and she never looked excited.

"Do you think they knew when he was hired?’ someone asked. There were shrugs.

"You must have known. It was a kind of accusation, directed at Jerry. After all, you’ve known him all your life."

What could he say? ‘Yes, I should have known’? ‘He never let on’? ‘I feel stupid and used’?

He turned away. It’s not official yet, is it? Let’s wait and see. He went back to his cubicle for his coat and then left by the stairs, avoiding the group still gathered, speculating.

Chapter 2

T here was a large vehicle parked in front of the house, unmarked but very official-looking, and as Regnar approached his front door it opened and someone murmured, My Lord.

The room seemed crowded with large men, formally dressed; Regnar’s eyes skimmed past them to his mother, Aletta, standing small and slender among them. Her eyes were bright, her carriage very upright and formal.

One of the men edged in front of him, saying, We are here to formally acknowledge your status as Imperial Prince, Lord Regnar. I am Lord Farley, head of the delegation.

Something about the way the man pronounced his own title struck Regnar as uncertain. Lord Farley? Regnar repeated, cocking an eyebrow at him. The man grew red and lowered his eyes. The commoners call us so, he excused himself.

I am acting in the capacity of messenger from The Emperor, he amended. We are here to appraise you of the events to come, and to accommodate you in any way necessary.

Regnar had a moment of amusement as he noted that the man had switched from an arrogant announcement in his first utterance to using a subservient verb in the second. He did not realize that his expression of rebuke at the man’s assuming a title he did not have had been strongly like that of The Emperor himself.

Brushing past the man, Regnar went to his mother. Are you all right? he asked.

Yes, my son. Go and take care of the business at hand. It was a permission rather than an order.

In the dining room Regnar took a seat at the head of the table, motioning Farley to the other end. The other men arranged themselves along the sides. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows and refracted from the glassware on the sideboard, casting colored lights onto the ceiling and along the table top and the figures of the men. He had always liked the effect; it brought a special warmth to the room. He now contemplated a diamond of white with rainbow edges on the table before him and thought, ‘This is all as unreal as that rainbow; it’s like a play. I have the leading part, and they are waiting for me to begin.’

If you will identify yourselves— he led.

I am Farley, as I said. This is— Before Farley could give the name of the man on his left Regnar interrupted.

Please identify yourselves.

Lambros

Peterberg

Hallik

Wang

Erlon

Regnar acknowledged each with a nod as he spoke. And you are from? he addressed Lambros.

Quina, he replied. We’re all from Quina.

And you were chosen because you all speak the Imperial language?

Oh, no! Because we speak your language, My Lord. I know a few phrases of Imperial, of course.

A small silence fell. Wang does pretty well. He goes there sometimes, Lambros went on. Business. He’s in manganese.

I see. You are all businessmen? There were nods. ‘That tells me where I stand’, Regnar thought. Businessmen from an unimportant planet for my delegation. Not a single noble.

I appreciate that you must be much inconvenienced by being away from your affairs for so long. Perhaps our stay on the Orb will be relatively short. No one took up the implication; they merely looked solemn. You have information for me; instructions. Perhaps you will begin that now.

A ship of the Imperial fleet awaits you, My Lord. A party of ten of your choosing can be accommodated. We must reach our destination before your birthday, and as we must allow for contingencies, we should leave here by the day after tomorrow.

Regnar’s appraising glance stopped him.

"I am to choose my entourage and they must be ready to leave here for an extended stay by the day after tomorrow? I don’t think so. I will let you know when we will be ready. Arrange for the ship’s commander to meet with me tonight. I shall take up quarters in the Hotel Arbus immediately. It is much more suitable for business than is my home.

How are financial matters to be arranged?

You may sign for anything you require; the bills will be forwarded to the Imperial treasury.

And my associates?

A certain amount has been allotted for each.

"How