The Chauffeur

By Debra Cabol

Ensign Han begins her sparkling career in Interstellar Command as a chauffeur to high ranking persons. When she begins driving Cmmdr Hasseltine, retired, she has no idea what his genuine ambitions are. She soon finds herself testing spacecraft for him then leaving the solar system and navigating the dangerous tunnels that take them far far away from Earth. Someone has to find the kidnapped boy, and draw the maps of a newly discovered Universe, and so many things. It might as well be them. Illegally.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debra Cabol
• Release date: Nov 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005920746

Book preview

THE CHAUFFEUR

By

Debra Cabol

Blue House Press

All of the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental

The Chauffeur

Blue House

Copyright 2022

The Chauffeur

Contents

CHAPTER ONE/My Orders Came

CHAPTER TWO/ Baby Shoes & the Retirement Curmudgeon

CHAPTER THREE/The Vastness of Space

CHAPTER FOUR/ Yoders

CHAPTER FIVE/ New Universe

CHAPTER SIX/ Thox in an Envelope

CHAPTER SEVEN/ Nail Biting

CHAPTER EIGHT/Clouds in the Sky

CHAPTER NINE/ Follow the Leader

CHAPTER TEN/ A Long Long Way

THE CHAUFFEUR

My orders came:

a nine week stint as a General Chauffeur through Interstellar Command. I was ecstatic. The Early Entry Program had propelled me from general high school and onto an accelerated path that would one day put me on the bridge of a mighty war ship! The Service had once been closed to women, but here I was climbing onto the first rung of a ladder leading to a promising career filled with honor and adventure. So what was I doing in a Korean saloon hiding in a corner?

For the past three weeks I had been acting as the driver for Admiral Evangeline Offtang, retired. Almost every day, after bemoaning my lack of skill and moral character, the admiral went to the Mana Boca in Cork, Ireland, for an eight hour lunch with her friends. My Korean heritage demanded respect for one of her age. My Ojibwe heritage demanded respect for one of her age. So, what could I do but act as a dutiful subservient and never complain? Most of my time as Admiral Offtang’s dedicated chauffeur was spent sitting in the driver’s alcove off the lobby of the Mana Boca knitting. On this day, I settled in at my usual table in with my knitting. I was almost finished with the baby layette for my brother’s new darling, now adding a lace border around the shawl. I ordered my lunch and picked up a stitch. A man wearing a white commander’s uniform approached. He appeared to be in his mid thirties and just a little overweight, as would be expected. He ordered me to go with him. Of course, I ignored him and counted stitches.

Hey, are you not the driver? he asked in a private school accent.

I looked around. The other two drivers had left and the Friday late lunch crowd had not yet arrived. He was obviously speaking to me. I am Admiral Offtang's driver.

Right, come on. he ordered, turned and left. I did not follow. Peering around the corner, I saw Offtang still at her table with her old cronies. The Commander came back.

Do not hassle me, baby.

Excuse me, sir, I am Admiral Offtang's driver and I am waiting for her. If there is an emergency-

Excuse me, Ensign. Do not be an idiot.

I was taken aback by the profanity, but remained dignified.

I am Cmdr Jeffry Offtang, Admiral Offtang's son.

I looked beyond him to a waiter who nodded his head and signaled me out the door. Well, thought I, perhaps this was also a part of chauffeuring the admiral. I was somewhat impressed that the Offtang family had produced an admiral in one generation and a man capable of rising to commander in the next. I assumed that whatever traits required of a commanding officer, such as strength, courage, stamina, intelligence, and decisiveness, could be traced on in the genetic lineage. Perhaps the arrogance and rudeness were also inherited, but I held my tongue. I tucked the shawl into my knitting bag and exited the club.

Rather than waiting for me to bring the car around, Commander Offtang followed me to the parking shed.

What is your name?

Han, sir.

Hank? Short for Henry?

No, sir, Han. It is a river in Korea.

"Okay, Lan. River Lan.

Han, sir, with an H.

He hopped into the auto, then we picked up Bridget, a woman with above average attractiveness and full of Oooo Jeffy and giggling. She was most impressed with the fact that Jeffy had his own private chauffeur.

Oooo, Jeffy, how invigorating. The woman squeaked. The expression, 'how invigorating', being the popular slang buzzword, set Bridget as a woman ‘in the know’. She tossed her wavy long golden hair. And you can go anywhere? Her voice reminded me of a three year old’s.

Anywhere you want, baby. Agreed Offtang, sounding confidant.

Oooo, Jeffy, or maybe I should call you, Captain. Hee hee.

You just call me whatever you want, Sugar. You are Irish, yes, baby?

Oh, yes, Jeffy.

Here I am in Ireland with an Irish lass, all golden haired and blue eyed. What nationality are you, Han, Chinese?

I suppose. That would be Chinese, named after a river in Korea? He thought that made sense? With a broad skull, and monolid eyes, I looked very Mongoloid, but I did not want to pursue the matter, so I just let it rest and started the car. They had instructed us in Orientation not to speak unless spoken to, not to give out personal information or ask for any. We could talk about weather, and could never argue with the passenger.

We arrived in a few moments at an establishment which served alcohol. I was told to enter the place after parking the car. The neighborhood gloomy and appeared dangerous. I was tough, I could take it. The bar was dark, dank, and smokey. It was the kind of place that one expected to run into nefarious thugs and fallen women. But, as a wrote earlier, I was hard enough to handle anything. The smoke made me cough, the smells made me nauseous, and the lessened visibility made me wary. The saloon in Seoul Korea, as mentioned above. No, I did not feel right at home. I approached Cmdr Offtang.

Sir.

Yea?

Sir, you wanted me?

Yea, you are supposed to follow your officer, right?

Yes, sir.

Good. Stay close by.

How close was close? So much they had neglected to tell us at orientation. While Offtang and Bridget stood cooing at the bar, I nestled in quietly at a table, ordering flavored water. From this position I saw Jeffy order a drink each for he and his friend. The bill was presented to him and he scowled.

I did not order flavored water.

The waitress pointed to me.

Oh, yes. Right. I guess so. He paid the pittance for my drink and offered two substance abuse passes for the others along with cash. Presently, a large man approached Offtang, offering in loud aggressive tones to rearrange his features. The fellow did not seem to phase Offtang. Of course, officers are required to meet certain hand-to-hand combat standards, so as to be able to meet any challenge. Offtang argued back, suggesting that this person may find it difficult to walk with both of his legs broken. Such loud verbal abuse caused me to seek the shelter of a corner, where I cowed until hearing my name.

Han! Han! It was Offtang. Dutifully, I stepped nearer, but out of range of a punch. Get over here!

I took one more step.

This is my body guard, Smith. Do not mess with me, idiot!

The idiot person, Smith, laughed out loud. I don't blame him. Certainly I would not have thought much of me as a bodyguard, my small frame being easy to disassemble, but as an honorable sailor I pulled my spine together and mentally prepared for battle. Smith picked up a bar stool and broke it over the bar, then threatened what remained of it in his hand to Offtang. Bridget, of course, screamed.

Excuse me, Bridgett, I whispered to her, Why don't you stand further from the action. She complied, I wishing to go with her but compelled by duty to stand my ground. As Offtang and the idiot person hollered at each other, I eased slowly away, seeking the shelter of another quiet corner. Not that I was cowardly, I was being polite so the men could be manly. Where were the police? Surely, I thought, the management must have called the police by now. Smith struck Offtang on the face with a clenched fist. Offtang stood there, not striking back. I would have expected him to retaliate with a responding blow. Smith was big, but hardly seemed well coordinated.

Han!

Me? What did he want with me?

Han!

I crept nearer to him. Yes, sir?

What the blazes is wrong with you?

Sir, there is no need to use profanity.

The other patrons laughed.

Han, you are supposed to be protecting me!

This was a shock to me. Protect him from muggers, yes; from assassins, yes. But a saloon fight? Cmdr Jeffy Offtang outweighed me by many pounds, and was undoubtedly stronger than I. Yet, he expected me to fight for him? I looked long at this other fellow. Tall, large, angry. Was he a typical bully who enjoyed the chance to pounce on someone smaller than he? Would he refuse to fight a surrogate? He looked bigger than he had initially when I was only being polite.I could only analyze the situation for a few seconds.

Sir.

The name is Smith.

Mr. Smith, this situation seems rather childish. Would it not give you more opportunity to retaliate against Cmdr Offtang for cruelly lying to your sister by using a Court of Law?

Court of Law?! he answered, shocked at my suggestion. The onlookers did not stifle their humor.

Yes, imagine what would become of his reputation when his name is connected with such beastly behavior. The news media would follow the story, especially if you granted interviews.

Han, you insidious flea! I heard Offtang's screech behind me.

Court of Law. This time it was said with respect and thoughtfulness. "In all of the

News releases."

Of course. Litigation is a matter of public record. I didn't really know what I was talking about, but a politician had been dragged through the press recently because of a divorce.

Han! You are my bodyguard, not some blazing public counselor!" This statement only amused the onlookers more.

You're right, little Ensign. Why should I mess up your pretty little face when I can let the whole world know what a louse the Admiral's son is?

After another couple of statements pertaining to Offtang's lack of worth, Mr. Smith left the establishment, much subdued. The saloon patrons made remarks of an insulting, joking manner to Offtang.

I can have you court-martialed, Ensign! He hollered at me once Smith was safely out of the saloon.

Now, Jeffy, she did keep you from getting hit again. Bridgett was ditzy, but I appreciated her support. I was sooo worried.

Oh, shut- eh, Bridgett, honey, you do not understand. You made me look like an idiot, Ensign Han. And I do not want my name in the news media. Not over this.

Sir, it was the only way I could think of to protect your physical safety. After beating me up he would have turned his anger on to you. Eh, did you not see the little red earring he was wearing?

No! What do I care about his little red earring? Do not change the subject.

"But sir, that's the trademark of the Dawn Dragons. I lied. You know, highest level Taekwondo. I am no match for him. Are you?"

Eh, well. He looked at Bridget, put his nose up in the air and softened his tone. You underestimate me, Han. I only wanted you to get him warmed up for me.

We then exited the saloon and drove 200 feet to another one. I was told again to park the auto and act as bodyguard. This one was also dark, dreary, and not the sort of place I usually spend my time. At least this place was a step above the other, offering small bits of food on trays. I discreetly stuffed my face, finding the orange discs with black olives particularly good. Jeffy used six of his substance abuse passes on alcohol and a marijuana cigarette. Cmdr Offtang met a group of three couples at a table and they talked about sports. I looked for more tidbits of food. A male patron asked for my number, I gave him the number for the Beijing office and explained I was on duty. A female patron asked to buy me a drink and I gave her the same line. I do not usually get that much attention, which I surmised was because I appeared to be alone and not with two other friends.

Offtang consumed more alcohol. He must have used half a year's substance abuse passes between the two saloons. I noticed Offtang’s companions rising from the table. At last, time to go home. I still had plenty of time to pick up the admiral and bring her home. But, no. He and Bridget stayed at the table. With a slur in his speech, he slobbered all over Bridget, extolling her beauty and character, bragging on his own intelligence and connections. She oo-d and aaa-d in all the right places.

Anywhere you want to go, sugar. Even Warsaw. I can get into Warsaw.

Do you go globe hopping all the time, Jeffy?

Only about four days a week, Baby.

Why only four? It's sooo much fun.

Too hard to get passes, Sugar. Otherwise, this would be a seven day a week vice for me. I have my own driver, not her. She’s actually my mother’s driver.

And the other three days?

Obligations. You know, meetings with the brass. I also make it a point to stop in my office once a week to check up on personnel.

Only once a week? My sister's girlfriend's brother's friend says that supervisory personnel are supposed to monitor work.

If you have them well disciplined, a once a week reminder is all that is necessary. You ever been to Hong Kong, Bridget?

At the Hong Kong saloon I was again to shadow Offtang. He threw around more substance abuse passes, even buying drinks for others. In an hour's time he used up another three months of passes. If he did this on a regular basis, I wondered where he got all of the passes. Of course, if I went to the Secretary of State's office every month to pick up my substance abuse passes, I could sell them to people like the Cmdr. This is illegal, of course.

Offtang made insulting remarks to different patrons, some of whom answered back with a sharp quip, others ignoring him. He then turned to a large woman and pinched her bottom. She yelped. He laughed, then slobbered all over Bridget again. The pinched woman was sober and large, but a Petty Officer and not crazy enough to get into it with a higher ranking officer, one every body knew to be Admiral Offtang's son.

Ah, Jeffy, is this necessary? Bridget breathed.

Hey, you are with me, Baby, so you have nothing to worry about. He kissed her. With Bridget in tow, Jeffy staggered to the bar, where he shoved a man sitting on a stool.

Shove off, mate, the lady would like to sit down.

Let her find another stool, buddy. the fellow replied, turning away from Offtang.

She wants this stool, mate.

No, Jeffy, really. Let's go back to the table.

No. Hey, idiot, the lady wants this seat.

Don't call me that, jerk. The man growled, taking a gulp of his drink, then slamming his glass on the bar. More profane insults hit the air, and the man rose from the stool to face Offtang.

Han! Offtang hollered, though I was right beside him. Remember, your job is to protect me. He took a step back, grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me in front of him. Ha! Ha!

Have it your way, moron. First her, then you.

He pulled his arm back, the fist at the ready. Just as the punch was to thrust forward I ducked. The man's fist hit Offtang square in the chest. Hard. Bridget screamed. I dodged away. Jeffy lost his breath, but was still standing. The other man took another swing, knocking Jeffy on the side of the head and sending him to the floor. He then kicked Jeffy hard in the stomach.

I'm gonna kill you, you stupid jerk!

Well, I thought, Jeffy deserves to get beat up, but not killed. Besides, it was my duty to protect him. So, I gave the fighter a swift kick in the nose, then one to the groin. This made him very angry.

Ohhh! I'm gonna kill you, you jerk female!

I took a karate stance, crouched with hands held like discs. I feel I must warn you that I am a fifth level Akido.

His eyes widened, then he fell to his knees. You don't scare me. But, he fell face down on the floor. I don't think I hurt him that badly, but was grateful for his acting. Bridget and I dragged Jeffy out to the auto where he cursed my lack of duty as soon as he caught his breath.

Oooo, Jeffy, she saved your life. Again. Didn't you see what she did to that terrible man? Jeffy, I think we should take you to a doctor.

No, no, it is only a flesh wound.

Jeffy, dear, I think you should see a doctor. Don't you, Ensign Han?

I suppose.

We headed to a local clinic. Offtang had a fluttering heart from the hit to his chest, and a concussion. I was dismissed. I had time to arrive at the the Mana Boca and pick up the other Awful Offtang. As usual, two waiters helped to guide her to the auto. She spat her usual insults about my competence at me, but at least did not vomit in the back seat. Once back at her stone fortress, two servants half carried her into the house. This stint was not turning out like things did in the movies.

* * * * * * * *

I should have been excited about moving into my own apartment, but my packing and subsequent shuffling of personal belongings was marred by my disappointment in myself. My first job of any importance with the Service, and in four weeks time I had been insolent, disobeyed orders, lied, and probably been guilty of other offenses. I had thought that chauffeuring officers, in spite of a vivid imagination, would be very routine work, my only adventure being the excitement of traffic. My brother, Joe, insisted that I was taking things too hard. My sister, Opal, agreed. Her opinion was that the Offtangs were dead weight and, therefore, if any charges were made against me, they would dead end. Just because they are older, Joe and Opal think they know everything. They didn't understand the hierarchy of the military. They didn't understand my position. Did I understand? Yes, those people were not movie heroes, but they were my superior officers, and I was sworn to my duty.

On Monday, I arrived at the garage to find a tall handsome security police person waiting for me.

Ensign.

Sergeant.

I would like to ask you a few questions.

The few questions involved where I had been the day Cmdr Offtang took the auto, and what I had been doing.

The waiter gave you authority to chauffeur Cmdr Offtang?

Ah, I didn’t want to bother the Admiral if I didn’t have to.

He sighed, as though my replies were very bad ones. I felt a tension headache coming on.

Should I have bothered the Admiral about driving her son, Sergeant?

The sergeant changed the subject of driving Cmdr Offtang to the subject of my getting into a bar fight.

Cmdr Offtang ordered me to protect him. Even to my ears this sounded ridiculous.

Thank you, Ensign Han.

I did not report again until Friday for a mass removal. My assignment was to taxi personnel from the Star Cruiser, Xi’an, to various locations. Everyone was called up for duty and we used large and small buses mostly with a few four passenger autos. My auto for this job was able to hold eight passengers, plus luggage. The passengers, officers and crew, had variable attitudes. There were lonesome types, excited types, tourist types, and tired types. We drivers all worked overtime, diligently striving to get everyone from the Xi’an home as quickly as possible. While things generally went smoothly, Ensign Mogamby got into a fist fight with a woman. He was only lightly reprimanded as his duty was to deliver personnel home, not make their evening a night to remember.

By Sunday afternoon 90% of the officers and crew had debarked, so I had a few days off then went in to general taxi service.

* * * * * * *

With the following Monday I did not know what to expect. I was to drive Commander Hasseltine from his place of residence in Brazil to the Command Headquarters in Beijing. He had just left his ship, the Xi’an but I guess ship's captains do not get the same vacations as regular people. His attitude was professional, sober, and I knew that with him I would have a different relationship than with the Offtangs.

Our trip to Beijing was exciting, skimming the edge of a hurricane, sudden stops and lane changes due to heavy traffic being siphoned away from the Caribbean. I turned the auto over to a valet and followed Hasseltine into the complex. Paintings of ships on the rolling seas greeted us, as did detailed illustrations of the early spaceships used by astronauts. It seemed that career spaceship personnel thought of themselves as either swashbuckling sailors or brave astronauts. I followed Hasseltine through the soft floored reception area, past occasional security checks, below the areas of public access, below areas of limited access, and into Command Central, where portraits of Service heroes hung in the hallways. We walked up and down stairs and all over. I wondered why Hasseltine chose to tour through the complex when he could have just taken a ride on the outside pram. I supposed that after telling me in a subdued voice to rush, to go faster, to speed it up, he was too embarrassed to admit that he was early for