A Royal Christmas in Space

Book 2: Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - memories, like the corners of my mind,
                       misty water colored memories,
                       of the way we were

Pluckie leaned her head on Drak's shoulder and gazed up at the tree. The majestic Colorado Blue Spruce had been cut down in its prime and hauled aboard the Oligarchia to adorn the family room. It was bare of decorations, but not for long.

The family room, with its blood red walls and black leather furniture, was one of Pluckie's favorite rooms on the space yacht. It was the one room where the Revins could relax and just be themselves.

Maybe it was the Holiday season or the start of a new journey, but that evening, the family room felt alive with joy.

Her father sat with Bubby and Nova in front of the stone fireplace and showed them how to work a toy coffee maker. Patrick Smythe had so much love in his heart, the more people he could share that love with, the happier he would be.

"Dump out the old coffee grounds and put them aside for later," he said. The children watched with rapt attention. "Soggy grounds make great compost."

"Your wine, Miss Pluckie." Diego placed a goblet of Château Mort on the table next to her. The attentive sommelier always had a kind word and a warm smile that brightened Pluckie's day.

"Thank you." She reached for the wine, but misjudged the distance. Instead of picking up the glass, she knocked it over, splashing the purple liquid across the white, linen tablecloth. "Oh no," she groaned. "I wish I wasn't so clumsy."

"It's part of your charm." Diego gathered up the broken glass and soiled linen. "Although, it is sad there are no more Ming vases left in the universe." With his arms full, he bowed to the royal couple and left the room just as Count Duke's bodyguard entered.

"Your Highness." Gadalov nodded at the Prince. "Mind if I check the room for bombs and boobytraps?"

"One more pair of eyes wouldn't hurt," Drak replied. "We can't be too careful now that the R.A.L.F have decided to assassinate someone close to the royal family."

Pluckie felt her heartbeat pick up. She had lived through more than one Ralfie attack. They were, from time to time, quite frightening. "Are we in danger?"

"Not us," he assured her. "I'm too important, Nova and Bubby are safe because they're children, and everyone loves your quirky charm." He pulled her closer and briefly pressed the mouth area of his armored mask to the side of her head. "I could be wrong, but I'd put money on the Ralfies killing Count Duke. He is the most expendable."

Nova stood up from the floor and approached Gadalov. "Can I watch you search the room?" she asked. "Will you show me where someone would put a bomb so it would do the most damage?"

"Sure," Gadalov said. "It's always good to learn. We'll start with the tree. It's a deathtrap."

The door to the family room opened again and Gasha popped her head in. "Your Highnesses, just wanted to let you know the Oligarchia has launched and we shall soon enter the wormhole to Bopthopiomiop."

Still on the floor in front of the fireplace, Patrick Smythe said to Bubby, "The secret to good coffee is to use bottled water. Tap water gives it a funny taste. Also, it's toxic and one drop will kill you."

"Gasha," Pluckie called before the Servant Administrator could leave to continue on with her duties, "don't you think you need to learn how to make the perfect cup of coffee?"

"Oh, well..." The older woman thought over her words for a moment. "It's certainly something Cookbot should know, but I don't think it's necessary for me."