Rembrandt's Station by Christie Meierz

Author:Christie Meierz [Christie Meierz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Christie Meierz
Published: 2022-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Bertie smiled into the morning-lit garden below his balcony. A day just couldn’t get any better than this. The ship was here. And Steven Connelly Johnson had gotten himself thrown off Tolar and confined to station security under guard. The mental image of the heir to Di Fata cooling his heels in a jail cell broadened his smile. He shouldn’t laugh. He really shouldn’t laugh.

He laughed.

Even better, rumors had spread all over the V’kri media markets that a son of the CEO of Rembrandt Pharmaceuticals would be receiving medical treatment on a Di Fata hospital ship. Inviting the V’kri Ambassador to Tolar to be present when Laura met with her brother had been a stroke of sheer genius. V’kri were the worst gossips in the galaxy.

Still chuckling, he limped back into his small sitting room and took a seat at the desk. He pulled out his tablet, intending to indulge himself with one more look at the video feed of the docked hospital ship, when the thing chimed. He stared at the blinking sigil, then laughed some more. That hadn’t taken long. He tapped it, ever so lightly, with his right index finger.

Loads of curly white hair, grey eyes, a little white mustache and circle beard—His Nibs scowled on the screen.

“Hallo, Your Grace,” Bertie said cheerily.

“Albert,” the Duke said in his darkest, sternest voice, “what’s this I hear about you and Di Fata?”

“I don’t know, sir. What have you heard?”

“Don’t get fresh with me, young man. You know exactly what I’ve heard.”

“But there are so many things said about Di Fata. They are the richest corporation in known space, you see. So many fingers in so many pies. To which pie do you refer, precisely?”

The Duke’s jaws worked. He was grinding his teeth. Bertie pasted an angelic smile on his face. At least, he hoped it was angelic.

“You will not, and I cannot state it strongly enough, will not set foot on a Di Fata property, not for medical treatment, not for any reason. I trust that is clear enough.”

“Oh, well, if you put it that way—”

“You will also leave off this Tolari nonsense you’ve been playing at and come home. Put yourself at Edwin’s disposal. Do whatever he asks of you. Whatever he asks of you.”

Bertie stared into the old man’s grey eyes, and somehow kept his mouth from dropping open. Was a Britannic duke, a Rembrandt, suggesting that one of his own get should submit himself to genetic modification? He waited, to give himself time to gather his wits. One… two…

“Answer me, young man.” Right on beat.

“Right, sorry. I’m trying to decide between no and hell no.”

The Duke swelled. “I am the head of this family and you’ll do as you’re told.”

“No. Or is it hell no? I just can’t decide.”

“Albert, you’ll agree, and you’ll come home.”

“What is it Earth children say?” He tapped his chin a few times. “Ah right, that’s it. Make me.”

The old man’s eyes widened, and his color deepened, but his voice remained level. “You’re Britannic, and you’re not a child.

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