Previously:
Private Residence of Kemal Pamuk, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, April 2199
"She's going to be difficult to get through to," the assistant replied. "However, we expect with enough visits, reprogramming should be straightforward eventually."
"We'll have a small window. Make sure you can accomplish it over three sessions at most. We likely will only get two shots at it – once for suggestion, and a second for embedding. I dare not risk having to invent excuses to bring her back numerous times," he explained.
"There will be a detail assigned to her, I expect," the assistant stated. "What about them?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "I can get her away from her chaperones long enough to carry out my plans. Once she's on my side, it will be too late for them to do anything."
"Yes, Minister," the assistant finished, putting her tablet away.
"Now, where is your friend?" he asked, a devious smile on his lips.
The assistant bowed her head submissively. "She's tied up in the bedroom waiting for you."
"Good. Go on in and get undressed. I'll be with the two of you shortly," he nodded.
"Yes, Minister," the assistant acknowledged before turning and walking away.
He looked back out to the evening scene below him, the bright lights of the Entertainment District glowing like a living mass before him, pulsing with energy and promise.
"Lady Mary Crawley, First Wife," he said softly, a grin filling his face. "Now that does have a ring to it."
Chapter 14:
Waterpark Community Housing, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"What our government is all about are projects like this one – renewal, improvement, reinvestment in our communities. There are large scale matters that dominate the headlines, yes, but ultimately we are here to serve the people – all people – and to try and make their lives better on a daily basis while also managing the long term future of this great colony. This residential area has been transformed through our partnerships with companies, interest groups and advocates and this is the result – a new, clean and modern housing development where people can not only live, but grow with their families. We campaigned on a promise to break down barriers of all kinds, and this is an example. Our construction subsidies built this place. Through our grant program, families of all economic levels can live here and thrive here without the threat of eviction or reprisal just because times might be tough for them. This is their home and I am honoured to welcome them all here."
Polite applause rang out as Kemal Pamuk smiled and nodded at the end of his speech. He stepped away from the dais and shook hands with the gathered dignitaries before heading over to a console placed on the stage. The setting could not have been more perfect for the unveiling. The skies above were a brilliant blue with not a cloud to be seen. Brilliant sunshine lit the area and a soft breeze caressed the tall trees all around them. Pausing while the cameras zoomed in, he pressed a button and a series of fireworks went off in the background above the gleaming apartment complex.
The cheers grew louder at the sight.
Mary smiled and applauded along with the crowd, watching from her spot on stage just behind the dais. Kemal continued to work his way along the rows, shaking hands with everyone in turn and sharing a laugh with some. Eventually, he reached her and grinned as he leaned in.
"I hope you're not too bored," he said quietly.
"Not at all," she smiled back at him. "That was very inspiring."
"I'll pass along your praise to my speech writers. My first draft just said 'here you go' and that was it," he replied.
She chuckled at that.
"Minister! Minister Pamuk!" voices called from the assembled journalists.
"Duty calls," she teased, arching her eyebrow at him.
"It always does," he shrugged. He reached down and squeezed her hand lightly before turning and going back to the dais.
She watched on as he fielded questions. He stood at ease, his crisp suit perfectly pressed with a splash of colour in the tie and matching pocket square. He had chosen red, the same colour as her dress. His answers were smooth and detailed, as though he anticipated every query, even the difficult ones over the construction delays and protests that had plagued the project. Every so often he threw in a joke or two, and ended each answer with a smile and a nod. She found herself captivated along with the rest of the crowd. It was literally impossible to take her eyes off of him as he commanded the session with a sort of grace, as if he wanted nothing more than to be right here in this moment answering questions.
"Minister, I have a question!" someone called.
A murmur hissed through the crowd as a tall man wearing a heavy coat and worn shoes shuffled forward. He clearly did not look like a journalist, and his eyes darted here and there suspiciously.
Kemal raised his hand to stop the security guards who had begun to move in response.
"Yes? How may I help you, sir?" Kemal asked.
"I was turned down for one of these here apartments, you see? I got two kids and they need a place to stay and when I heard about your fancy programs and your nice buildings here, I put in my name and all, but didn't get in. I want to know why. I want to know where me and my kids are supposed to live now!" the man sneered, his voice shaking more and more as he spoke.
"This is hardly the time or place to…" an aide spoke up, coming to Kemal's side.
"No, it's fine," Kemal shook his head. "Come forward, sir. We can look at your application and see if we can do anything about it."
"Right now?" the man asked in shock.
Kemal smiled and nodded. "Why not? You've got the entire Housing Department gathered here. We ought to put them to work."
The journalists laughed nervously at that, wondering if Kemal was being serious.
"Right this way, sir," Kemal beckoned, smiling and waving his hand. "Don't worry, I'm not in Parliament so I don't bite."
A guard came over and ushered the man towards the stage.
Kemal came out from around the dais and sat down at the end of the stage. He called for a tablet and his aide provided him with one. When the man approached, he ran his fingers over the tablet and searched for his application.
The journalists and politicians looked on as the exchange continued. Kemal asked the man questions and he answered, and other officials stepped forward when they were called for. Soon, Kemal smiled and shook the man's hand.
"Thank you, Minister! Thank you, sir!" the man exclaimed gratefully.
"Thank you," Kemal smiled. "I'm sure that your kids will like it here."
A guard led the man away towards the apartment complex.
"Well, anyone else? We've got a few units left available," Kemal asked. "I'm quite sure that none of you qualifies for a rent subsidy, though, judging by the fine clothing I see all of you wearing."
The journalists laughed while the cameras continued to film. Eventually, Kemal's aides succeeded in having him stand back up and stop answering questions. He waved to everyone and shook a few more hands before returning to Mary.
"Shall we?" he asked.
She slid her hand around his arm and nodded before he escorted her off the stage. Rather than lead her back to the fleet of cars waiting for them, he turned down a walkway and headed for the apartment buildings.
"We aren't heading back right away?" she asked.
"Not yet," he shook his head. "I want to take a bit of a walk."
"Ah, so the cameras can see you with your new British girlfriend?" she smiled.
He laughed. "No. I didn't have time to look around before so I just want to get a quick view of the place."
"Ah, well it is rather nice for a housing development," she nodded. "It's a bit of a change from your penthouse suite, though."
He smirked. "I suppose it is. And what about your rooms? Are you comfortable? Settled in yet?"
"They're very nice, yes," she replied. "I have been in them for a few days now. It didn't take me long to feel at home."
"Good, I'm glad," he smiled. "As strange a situation as this is, I want you to be taken care of, Mary."
"Thank you," she nodded. "And it isn't so strange. I'm growing used to it, actually."
"Careful, Mary," he quirked his eyebrow teasingly. "You might fool me into thinking that you're actually enjoying my company."
She laughed and held on to him as they neared a park area between the buildings. "I'm tolerating your presence for the good of the British Empire. How's that?"
"I'll take it," he retorted easily.
They came to a large flower garden that had been freshly planted ahead of today's unveiling. He stopped and crouched down, examining a large red flower with triangular petals.
"I don't think I've ever seen a variety like that," she commented.
He looked on for a few more moments before rising up again.
"They're Byzantine peonies, native to this region," he answered. "They were my mother's favourite. I asked that a bunch be planted here. They're rather expensive and require constant maintenance, but I was quite adamant about it."
"They're very beautiful. I'm sure that the tenants will appreciate them," she said.
"I hope so, but that wasn't my real motivation," he admitted, offering her his arm again as they resumed their walk. "I wanted to have a piece of her here in a way."
"Why here, exactly?" she asked.
"We used to live here when I was a child," he replied, his eyes glancing up at the buildings. "Apartment C54. It was the worst place in the world, and also the best."
She blinked in surprise. "You lived in social housing?"
He nodded. "After the man who impregnated my mother abandoned us, she moved us into here. It was a ghetto back then. Drugs, gangs, gun fights, prostitution, you name it. I saw all of that everyday just going to and from school."
She shuddered. "My goodness."
"Mom never complained, at least not in front of me," he continued. "She made it seem like this was the perfect place to live for us, and at the same time she made sure I was protected. I think the gangs were terrified of her, so they left me alone."
She smiled at the memory. "It must have been so satisfying for you to finally get her out of here."
He sighed and shook his head. "She never got out of here. She died shortly after I left for university. She had a bunch of health problems that she never told me about. I think that once I made it into school, she felt her work was done, so she finally let go to rest."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
He smiled wanly and looked up at the sky. "I miss her everyday. I suppose in some small way I'm still that boy trying desperately to impress her and live a better life, a life away from where we used to be."
"Well, you've succeeded in that and then some," she noted. "I'm sure she would be so very proud of all you've accomplished, especially being so young for a cabinet minister."
He laughed and smiled at her. "Thank you. You didn't know her, though. She was very strict. She would probably tell me to get my ass moving and keep pushing to the next goal."
"I can relate to that," she laughed.
"Yes, I imagine the Admiral is quite a taskmaster," he stated.
"He is, but Mama is far worse," she smiled. "She sends my sisters and I messages with veiled comments on what we ought to be doing with our lives."
"There isn't much higher you can go," he smiled. "You're already a Captain."
She nodded. "Career-wise, I think she's satisfied with all of us. It's the rest of it that worries her."
"Such as?" he questioned.
"The usual," she sighed. "Marriage. Children. Being a supportive wife and mother is her definition of a woman's highest achievement."
He laughed. "Something tells me that you disagree."
"Well, I do want those things for myself someday," she allowed. "I'm not looking to define myself as only that, though."
He nodded and smiled at her. "Mary, I am quite certain that no one is going to define you as anything other than what you want them to."
"Thank you. I do hope you're right," she nodded.
"Trust me," he said warmly as they headed back towards the cars. "I know all about strong women."
She grinned at him as they reached the waiting vehicle. He held the door open for her and let her get in first. Before following behind her, he looked over and smiled for the cameras posted nearby.
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"And here are the schedules for the shifts over the coming two weeks," Anna stated, swiping across her tablet.
"Right," Matthew replied, looking at his own tablet as the information scrolled across.
She glanced over at him as he perused the data. "It's essentially what we did last week, and the week before that…"
"I see, yes," he nodded, still reading along.
"We can always move on to the next item on our list, Captain," she advised. "This should be sorted, I would think."
"I'm sure it's fine but I'll just make certain. It won't be long," he answered, his eyes never leaving the tablet.
"Yes, sir," she nodded, waiting patiently while he carried on.
After several minutes, he finally gave a nod of approval. "Right, that's sorted. Next item?"
She smiled in relief and swiped across her tablet again. "We have the patrol reports that you requested. There hasn't been any activity at the known sites were the insurgents were camped previously. I ordered the government files on the attack and the follow-up reports. They haven't found any real leads since the initial cull."
He nodded slowly. "So we're no closer to actually putting names and faces to the attackers beyond just the label of insurgents."
"It would not appear so, no," she agreed.
"Captain, there is an incoming transmission from Captain Crawley…"
Matthew looked up at the mention of Mary.
"I can give you some privacy," Anna commented, closing her tablet.
"Hang on," he replied, raising his hand. "What is the nature of the transmission?"
"It's a personal call for you, Captain…" the computer replied.
He frowned and took a deep breath before looking back at his tablet. "Advise her that I'm in a meeting and will speak to her later."
"Acknowledged, Captain."
Anna frowned and looked at him curiously.
"What I think we should do is move on to another sector for our next sweep," he said. "Bring up a map of the surrounding area."
"Yes, Captain," she answered, moving to carry out his instructions.
Private Residence of Mary Crawley, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"The Captain is in a meeting, Captain Crawley. He advised that he will speak to you later."
Mary frowned at the wall display screen. "And when will that be?"
"The Captain did not say, Captain Crawley."
She shook her head in annoyance. "And what important meeting is the Captain in currently that has him so very occupied?"
"The Captain is meeting with Commander Smith to go over ship logistics and planning, Captain."
"Ship logistics and planning," she repeated. "Ah yes, highly important and urgent matters, that."
"Ship logistics and planning meetings occur daily. While they are important to the proper functioning of the ship and in setting instructions for the crew, the meetings themselves are low priority and not of an urgent nature, Captain."
"My thoughts exactly," she grumbled. "Screen off."
Crossing her arms over her front, she wandered over to the window and looked out on to the city below. It was midday, but it may as well have been midnight for how constantly the flashing lights and bustling activity carried on before her. New Byzantium seemed to never sleep. Even when she drew the drapes closed and darkened her apartment, there remained a pulse, an energy just beyond the windows that awaited her return. It was so very different living here rather than in Matthew's quarters back on the ship.
The past week with Kemal had been busy and quite intriguing. Having a glimpse into the politics of the colony and the rest of his life proved interesting to her, surprisingly, with each day presenting new discoveries. So far, she had been a visible presence at his side but there had been no official statement released as to their affiliation. She knew that the media was full of gossip and speculation about them, particularly when their small displays of affection – holding hands, a polite kiss on the cheek here and there – showed they were not merely carrying on interplanetary business. Apparently, the Minister's love life was a frequent topic of speculation, considering that he was a young, handsome, eligible member of the elite. She learned that he had several high profile relationships with celebrities and the odd heiress. Cameras had followed them constantly but she did not yet find the attention intrusive, or even unwanted. Their plan required that they be visible and so she accepted that.
There was a certain freedom in her assignment as well, a chance to act a role and leave her normal duties and responsibilities behind. While she continued to check in with Anna and had gone back to visit the ship a few times, she was experiencing New Byzantium from a different perspective now, as a resident, rather than as a tourist or visiting officer.
The image that New Byzantium liked to present was of a vacation destination, a place where fantasies came alive and anything was possible. There was an irreverent and reckless edge to the city, one that was meant to lure people in. She now was able to see the immense amount of work required behind-the-scenes and how seriously Kemal took his portfolio, as well as how much he cared about his home.
At first, she had been wary of him, given their history and Matthew's constant warnings echoing in her head. She was on alert of him using their arrangement as a way to take liberties with her, particularly when cameras were on them and she could not openly object. However, in the days since her agreeing to the plan to pose as his girlfriend, he had been a perfect gentleman. He barely touched her at all when they were in public, and their many conversations were all suitably polite and above board. When they returned to their separate quarters in the evenings, he saw her to her door and left her alone, and often went back to work. Not one time did he invite himself in, or even suggest that they needed to spend any time together once they were out of sight.
She had noticed that there were journalists and photographers shadowing their every move, so going out on her own was a bit of a challenge. Kemal kept their daily schedule full, but only required her for official events and meals. Rather than just parade her around, however, he involved her in what transpired, often asking her for her input on policy issues and discussing problems with her that he was required to solve. He called it getting a fresh perspective from an outsider, and she found the more that she talked to him about these matters, the more invested she became, actually delving into the issues herself so she could give an informed opinion. It was fun to look forward to what each day would bring.
She arched her eyebrow and pursed her lips as her thoughts returned to Matthew. She knew this assignment would be difficult for him but he was being downright petulant as of late.
When she first arrived, he accompanied her and they scanned and swept through her apartment with several drones. There were no cameras or hidden devices, not that she suspected there would be. In the beginning, he wanted her to return to the ship each night and that was her original thinking as well, however, she began to see the purpose of staying over here. Not only was it consistent with the image of her and Kemal as a couple, but it helped establish that while she was British, she wasn't just spending time with him and returning to her ship. If the public was to take them seriously, they needed to be convinced that she wasn't merely biding her time or pretending to be interested. Living amongst them, or giving the impression that she was, would quiet many of the negative views that she might just be toying with the city's star bachelor.
She sighed and shook her head. Of course, the logic behind her decisions mattered very little when she and Matthew were sleeping in different beds each night and barely able to talk to each other during the day. To go from living together and spending practically every moment together to this was jarring. While both of them were stoic and tended not to dwell on such things when they could not control them, there was a frustrated air that now hung over their limited interactions and she didn't like it. He knew quite well why she was doing this, why this was important, not only to her, but to the Empire as well. Their situation was no different from any other working couple who left each other for separate jobs and reunited when they were able. She was growing more and more perturbed with the fact that he was perturbed.
Surely, he must understand that there was very little she could do to appease his frustrations, and that it was far better if he just let her get on with things and not try and saddle her with guilt. The little time they had together ought to be cherished, and not spent on the cusp of yet another argument.
She turned away from the window and went to the kitchen to fix lunch. She was hardly looking forward to their conversation whenever he decided he had time to talk to her.
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"Do you trust her?"
Matthew scoffed and looked away. "Of course, I trust her."
"Good answer," Sybil replied, looking at him intently. "She could have had any number of men while you were in stasis, you know."
He glared at her in disbelief. "Thanks."
"I'm only pointing out that you have nothing to fear," she explained, tucking her legs beneath her and taking a sip of her tea. "She had every opportunity to have a guilt-free, entirely discrete liaison and you would have literally been none the wiser."
"And she didn't," he sighed. "Yes, I am aware."
"So what's the problem then?" she asked, settling into a more comfortable position on the sofa. "You know that she isn't interested in that politician. She's only doing what's expected of her."
"I know that," he rolled his eyes. "I just want this entire assignment, this mission, whatever, to be over and done with and for us to be light years away from this place."
She laughed. "Darling, I know that you don't want to hear this, but the rest of us quite enjoy New Byzantium. The crew are quite happy, you must know."
"Yes, they are loving the food, and the entertainment, and the bath houses, and the football matches, I know," he nodded. "This isn't a sojourn. We're supposed to be working."
"We're not machines, and neither are you," she retorted. "As much as you like being brave for the crew, you've been through the wars lately. You deserve some downtime, just like the rest of us."
He grunted. "I'm not going to that bath house you took Tom to. You may have ruined bath houses for me entirely, come to think of it."
"Get over yourself, won't you?" she said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "We hardly did anything scandalous."
"Through some small miracle," he replied. "Anyway, the point is that I'm not much in the mood for leisure. I can't imagine why."
"Well, if being with my sister is so very important to you, ignoring her calls seems rather counterproductive, doesn't it?" she noted.
"We just end up fighting, or not really talking about much of anything," he waved his hand dismissively. "There are only so many ways to ask how one's day went, strangely enough."
"Well, why don't you try and have a real conversation, then?" she questioned.
"I want to, but invariably she's lured away for her next appearance, or she needs to go to sleep early and rest up for tomorrow's itinerary or events. I can't talk to her without the spectre of her assignment weighing over everything," he frowned. "It's quite difficult to enjoy my time with her when I imagine a timer counting down the seconds in the background."
"How wonderfully poetic," she laughed. "If only you weren't so much older than me."
"Whatever," he elbowed her lightly in the side. "We'd drive each other mad and you know it."
"Darling, you're really disappointing me, you know," she said. "The Matthew Crawley that I know would hardly let a little distance deter him from seeing the woman he loves."
"There is constant security at her building, not to mention the press," he responded. "There's no official reason for us to spend time together, so we have to maintain the ruse by staying apart. That was agreed upon in the beginning."
"My, my, I've never seen you give up so easily," she shook her head, leaning forward and setting her tea cup down on the glass table before them.
"What?" he frowned at her.
"Shh, it's starting," she slapped his arm lightly and leaned against him. "Get the chips."
He sighed and reached for the plate of French fries before sitting back and letting her get comfortable. She pulled the blanket closer around her as the familiar intro music played. The room lit up, surrounding them with a dark and foggy street in 20th century England.
"You do realize that a wizard with a tall pointy hat and a long, white beard is terribly clichéd, don't you?" he asked, shaking his head as a figure emerged and walked towards them.
"Quiet, you! This is the first of eight films so you best settle in," she snapped, watching the old wizard with rapt attention as he walked past a cat and further down the lane.
New Byzantium Veterans Association Charity Dinner, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"Oh, that's simply brilliant, Lady Mary," the executive laughed, shaking his head. "Simply brilliant!"
Mary smiled and nodded before taking a sip of her wine. The rest of their table carried on their conversations while the orchestra up on stage played another lively tune.
The ballroom was abuzz with laughter, music and cheer. The dinner had been delicious and even the speeches had been mildly amusing. Many of the guests were dressed in full military regalia as befitting the occasion and in between courses, the hosts would announce another round of fundraising and another goal level attained.
When Kemal mentioned to her that they would be attending a fundraiser, she wasn't particularly enthused. Spending an evening with people she didn't even know wasn't a problem, but she expected a rather boring and stuffy affair. Having a gown prepared for tonight was rather fun, and she expected that would be the highlight for her. She deliberately chose a style and colours that were native to New Byzantium. Her hair was swept to one side, covering the lone strap of her dress and leaving her neck and shoulder bare. The fabric seemed to shimmer in the lights above, the silk flowing tightly around her with a rather high leg slit on one side. An ornate Phoenix bird was embroidered along one side, from the hem of the dress just below her knee and up to her chest. She noticed the inquisitive looks and appreciative smiles that she received when they arrived and the cameras filmed away.
"How are you managing?" Kemal asked, leaning over and speaking softly to her.
She smiled as though he had told her a funny joke. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm actually enjoying myself quite a bit. The veterans are a bunch of characters."
"That they are," he laughed. "If you do get bored, though, give me the signal."
She nodded. On the ride over, he had told her to mention something about needing to speak to the Minister for Labour as their code phrase to extricate themselves from a particularly boring or tedious situation. As the Minister himself was not attending, it was an official sounding excuse that would never have to actually be acted upon. Thus far, she had not even thought of using it.
The music changed to a faster paced song and all eyes turned to the large dance floor in the centre of the ballroom that was now lit with coloured spotlights. Cheers and clapping went up from some of the tables, and soon everyone was joining in.
"What is it?" she asked, looking at Kemal in amusement.
"It's the evening's entertainment," he answered. "Excuse me for a moment."
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"You'll see," he smiled. "I have a bit of a part to play, I'm afraid."
She watched as he rose from his chair and headed out to the dance floor along with several other men. The cheers and applause grew louder, everyone standing up and watching. Kemal and his companions lined up across the floor, facing away from her and her table.
High-pitched squeals came from one end of the ballroom and Mary blinked as several scantily-clad veiled women came on to the dance floor. The music suddenly switched again to a heavy drum rhythm and the women stopped and stomped their feet. Keeping their eyes locked on the men before them, they all turned to the side as one and began gyrating their hips slowly in unison. The music picked up slightly and so did they, raising their arms above their heads and so that their bodies seems to undulate in a wave from head to toe over and over.
Mary arched her eyebrow at the sight. She knew that belly dancing dated back centuries to Earth, but she had never seen a live performance before. While the costumes left very little to the imagination, the dancing itself was quite impressive, almost mesmerizing in how fluid and graceful it seemed, the women all moving together in perfect time with the music, captivating the audience with every motion.
The women crossed the dance floor with long elegant strides, their hips seeming to never stop their cadence. Soon, two women were paired with each of the men, circling them and looking up at them through their veils.
Kemal stood in the middle of the dance floor, set apart from the others. His two dance partners, if one could call them that, would reach out and touch him lightly before stepping back, constantly pressing forward and retreating, dancing round and round him as they went. The drums grew louder and the women seemed to make more deliberate steps, until they stopped and froze in place when the music paused.
Mary's eye's widened as Kemal reached forward and wrapped his hand across the back of one dancer's neck. The music began again and he drew her to him, keeping her in his hold with just one hand over her nape. They stepped together now, he leading her as they twirled about the dance floor. The second dancer stood still, watching on with the rest of the audience as different couples paired up and moved about.
The dancer in Kemal's grasp seemed to wriggle and shake, her hips moving with the music, her bare midriff shimmying from side to side. Her arms were splayed to her sides, writhing about. She seemed powerless before him, guided entirely by his will and the hand still seized about her neck.
There was a tension in the air, a palpable and growing electricity that Mary could feel. The combination of the hard beat of the music and the seductive dance of the couples made for a scene that she could not turn her eyes away from. Kemal moved smoothly and easily about with his partner, seeming to know exactly how to turn and step to keep her in his thrall. It appeared practised, something he had done previously as he was far more elegant in his dancing than his companions. There was strength and power in how he moved, as though he was showing his partner that he was leading, that he was in control.
Mary's eyes moved to the dancer. She was shorter and smaller than Kemal, particularly the way he was moving her about now. With so little clothing on, Mary could see how lithe and fit she was and her mind wandered to what she had seen and read about Kemal's former girlfriends. They were all stunningly beautiful, but moreover they seemed to share a similar look – not quite as tall as him, dark hair, and lean, just as this dancer was.
As the music reached it crescendo, she watched him dipped his partner backwards, still holding her only by the back of her neck. His eyes locked with hers and he leaned towards her. Just as the staccato finish of the drums rang out, his free hand came up and ripped the veil off of his partner, baring her face and leaving her entirely exposed.
The dancer smiled and bowed her head.
Thunderous applause rang out around the ballroom. Kemal helped his partner back upright and released her. He bowed politely in reply to her curtsey and soon the dancers left. The men all shook hands before going back to their tables. The rest of the lights came on and the music resumed a more cheerful tone and pace, as though the display they had all just witnessed had never happened. She took a sip of wine and when she looked up, Kemal had returned to her side, a smug smile on his face.
"Goodness, that was something," she noted, sipping her wine.
"It's just something I must do at events like these," he shrugged. "It's expected of me."
"That certainly did not appear to be your first dance," she commented.
He smiled. "No, I've had to do my fair share of traditional dancing in public."
"That was considered traditional dancing?" she questioned. "It seemed rather…"
"Rather?" he repeated, smiling at her.
"Rather risqué," she finished.
He chuckled lightly, keeping his voice down so they weren't overheard.
"The history of my people is rather risqué, yes," he nodded. "We are a race of conquerors, of sultans, rulers of all we see. In ancient times, the empire grew from vanquishing its rivals and taking their treasure and their women. That's where the dance originates from."
"How so?" she asked.
He smiled. "It represents the invading army arriving after killing all the men and leaving the women defenceless. They band together and beg for mercy from the victors. The dance represents the bargain between them – will they take them as wives and treat them well, or keep them as slaves or worse?"
"Is that why you had two dancers with you?" she enquired. "You've conquered more than one woman?"
He nodded. "My people believe in having numerous wives. The First Wife is the matriarch, the one who runs her husband's household. The other wives are for birthing children or serving as mistresses."
"I see. Bigamy was outlawed centuries ago in Britain," she noted.
"Officially, we do not condone it here, either," he agreed.
"And unofficially?" she asked pointedly.
He grinned. "The government tries not to intrude into the bedrooms of its people, Mary."
She nodded. "And that bit at the end? The removing of the veil?"
His eyes seemed to flash for a moment as he held her gaze. "That was the end of the negotiations. I took her as mine."
"As your wife, your broodmare or your slave?" she asked.
"That's left to the imagination of the audience," he replied.
"She seemed to smile at the end, as though she enjoyed it," she commented.
"Yes, she did," he stated, finally breaking away to sip his drink.
"That was hardly what I would expect from a politician," she smirked, taking another sip of wine.
"Are you saying that I'm boring, Mary?" he asked, turning back to her with a knowing smile.
"I don't find you boring in the slightest," she chuckled.
He nodded. "Good. I should hate to be predictable."
The music changed to a slower song and with the meal now over, many people rose from their chairs and went on to the dance floor. While the belly dancing had been frenetic and quite racy in Mary's eyes, the crowd was decidedly older. Couples were soon waltzing about to the pleasant and more staid song.
"Let's dance," she suggested, smiling at Kemal.
He blinked in surprise. "Right now?"
She laughed and nodded. "I think this song is more my speed as opposed to what I saw before."
He stood up and took her hand, helping her rise. Walking in her form fitting gown had taken some practise, but she was used to it now. Her bare leg slipped free of the dress as she went, which she supposed was the intention of the design. It seemed that much of life in New Byzantium was about enticement and drawing people in, whether it be the food, the culture, or the fashion. Following him on to the dance floor, she smiled as he brought her into hold and led her about slowly, swaying to the music with his one hand across the small of her back and the other on her waist.
"You could always give the traditional dancing a try, you know," he suggested as they turned about. "I think you would be quite good at it."
"Belly dancing? Me? Oh, no," she laughed. "I'm afraid I would likely fall and make a fool of myself."
"I doubt that," he shook his head in amusement. "You might like it, actually. It's good exercise, in addition to being quite fun."
"I wouldn't know where to begin," she smiled.
"I can teach you," he nodded.
"You?" she questioned.
"It's been a while since I wore the skirt and veil, but yes, me," he joked.
She laughed. "We'll see. It did look quite invigorating."
"It is," he confirmed, his dark eyes locked on hers for a moment before he looked back over her shoulder as they continued to dance. "Most invigorating."
HMS Andromeda, Mothership Class Spacecraft, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"Play again," Alex called, staring intently at the scene in front of him.
The missile came speeding towards him. The crowd gathered around were entirely oblivious, no one even looking in the direction of the harbinger of their pending doom.
"Pause," he commanded.
"Paused," Edith confirmed from her station.
He frowned and circled around the missile, looking at the image from every angle, his mind working.
"What was the make and model of the weapon again?" he asked.
"Came from Terrax," Tom answered, coming over to his side. "At least ten years old. Ancient technology on that planet to begin with, so ten years is really closer to fifty."
Alex nodded. "Which is why it had limited electronics, limited heat signature and no targeting sights to give it away."
"It's a powder charge projectile weapon. We barely studied those in the Academy, they're so old," Tom noted.
"And yet so very effective," Alex nodded. "Buildings don't stand up well to missiles, and neither do people."
"What I don't understand is the damage," Edith called, drawing their attention. "The building seemed to stand up quite well to the missile strikes."
"I don't know if you could call that standing up quite well," Tom shrugged. "It was a shit show down there."
"Yes, but at least the majority of you lived, and the building didn't collapse," she countered. "As old as those weapons are, they still are capable of firing high explosive rounds, even fragmentation grenades. The number of hits that landed ought to have reduced that building to rubble, along with all of you under it."
"That's my sister-in-law," Tom sighed. "She really does love us, honestly."
She scoffed. "I'm only saying…"
"No, you're right," Alex nodded slowly, surveying the scene again and looking from behind the missile down its trajectory to the building below. "Why did we survive? Why was the warhead not particularly impactful?"
"Perhaps we should be grateful that we are alive?" Tom said. "It's a group of insurgents, guerrillas, they hardly have the latest technology, so why would you think they would have access to the most damaging missiles?"
"That's exactly why they would," Alex replied, glancing around the room. "Maximum damage, maximum casualties for maximum effect, sends the strongest message that way."
"What message?" Tom asked.
"That no one is safe while the British are here," Alex shook his head. "They should have levelled the place to the ground."
"So why didn't they?" Tom questioned.
Alex looked past the missile and to the crowd gathered for the photo in front of the hall.
"Maybe that's not the message they wanted to send," Alex muttered.
Private Residence of Mary Crawley, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
Mary sipped her wine and flicked over the floating images projected above the table before her. She moved news articles out of the way once she finished reading them and kept the source material for fact checking off to the side. Her music player continued to send soothing classical notes through the air and her eyes darted around, studying up on the next round of debate topics in Parliament while also keeping track of how many times her name was mentioned by the New Byzantium news agencies.
Two weeks into her assignment and being Kemal's girlfriend was proving to be far less boring than she expected. While she had yet to give any official interviews, there was a growing sentiment that she was different from his previous girlfriends simply because of her station within the British Royal Navy. As Papa had ordered there to be no comment given to any questions posed about her relationship with Kemal, the media was left to speculate based solely on her public record. They continually highlighted her academic achievements and how she was the highest ranking female officer in the fleet. While it was somewhat amusing to hear her praises being sung by those who didn't even know her, it lit her competitive streak as well to exceed the expectations that were growing about her.
She blinked when the door chime sounded.
Setting her wine glass down, she tied the sash of her robe a bit tighter and paused her music player and news feeds.
"Yes?" she called.
"Mary? It's me," Kemal answered through the door. His image appeared on the viewscreen on the wall, showing that he was alone.
"Ah, Kemal. Please, come in," she replied.
The doors opened and he stepped inside. He was still wearing his suit from earlier when they toured a children's hospital together. After dinner, he headed back out while she went home to a warm bath prior to her study session.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mary," he nodded.
"It's not a bother at all," she smiled. "What brings you by?"
"I just wanted to have a quick chat. I called you, actually, but your phone is in Do Not Disturb, it seems," he stated.
She arched her eyebrow. "Ah, yes. Well, I didn't want to be bothered when I was in the bath earlier."
"Understandable," he smiled.
"Please, come and sit," she smiled, motioning towards the sofa. "Would you like some wine?"
"No, thank you," he shook his head. "I can't stay long. I just wanted to let you know about something coming up this weekend."
"Yes? And what is that? Is there a summit meeting of some sort?" she asked, suddenly feeling rather warm beneath the silk of her robe.
"Nothing so important," he chuckled. "It's my birthday, actually."
She blinked in surprise. "What?"
"My birthday," he repeated. "The day that I was born."
"Yes, of course," she said. "I was just taken aback. I didn't actually know when your birthday was."
"Well, there's no reason why you ought to have," he shrugged. "Anyway, it's this weekend and I wanted you to know as it would be expected that you would be aware."
"Clearly, yes," she nodded. "Are you having a party?"
He grinned. "Something like that, yes. I actually don't know much about what's planned. I simply go where I'm told."
"I can relate," she laughed. "Well, I shall be by your side as the dutiful girlfriend, then."
"Thank you," he nodded.
"I suppose I should also get you a gift of some sort," she mused.
"Oh, I'm sure that someone will take care of that," he shook his head. "There will be a suitable leaked release at some point about how the Minister's girlfriend purchased him a suitably appropriate present of some kind. No need to concern yourself with that."
"Nonsense," she smiled. "It's your birthday and that's cause for celebration. I'll get you something."
"All right, if you like," he relented. "It needn't be anything particularly special."
She smirked. "My gift won't be special now, you say?"
He sighed. "No, that's not it. I'm sure it will be quite special, but it needn't be…I don't want you to spend too much time on it, is all."
She laughed and touched his arm reassuringly. "Understood, Minister."
"Please don't call me that," he groaned. "Well, we will find out more about the weekend's festivities in the coming days, I expect. Whatever is planned, it shall involve much embarrassment for me, I would think, so you have that to look forward to."
"Wonderful," she nodded. "I'm eagerly anticipating it already."
"Thanks," he frowned wryly before leaning towards her and kissing her on the cheek. "Good night, Mary."
"Good night, Kemal," she nodded, hugging him lightly before he turned and left.
Once she was alone again, she returned to the sofa and took up her glass of wine. Starting up her music player, she looked at the newsfeed as it scrolled along with the items that she had flagged for review. A small smile crept across her lips as she took another sip of wine, the sweet drink pleasing on her tongue.
"I need a high-end men's fashion wear store," she called.
The computer beeped and the news items disappeared as he online shopping catalogue took its place.
Private Residence of Kemal Pamuk, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
Kemal slowly removed his suit jacket and placed it on top of a nearby chair. Turning for the bedroom, he removed his tie and cufflinks and unbuttoned his dress shirt on his way to the walk-in closet. He stripped down to his boxer shorts and came back out to the bedroom once his clothes had been put away.
"How was your day?" his aide called from her position lounging in bed.
"Quite productive," he nodded.
She rose from the bed and brought his already-prepared drink over to him. He took a sip and smiled.
"I went to speak to Mary just now," he advised.
"About your birthday?" the aide questioned. "What did she say?"
"She's quite excited, I think," he replied. "She's going to get me a present."
"Aww, what a sweet thing," the aide laughed. "Well, it will certainly be quite the night for her and for you."
"Is everything ready?" he asked, taking another sip.
The aide nodded. "The bathhouse will be yours to use for the evening. We've closed all appointments and only our trusted staff will be working."
"Good," he nodded.
"She'll need to be susceptible prior to your arrival," the aide noted. "It seems that she's been in work mode for the last while. That's not helpful. Her mind needs to be more relaxed to be open to the suggestions."
"She'll be fine," he stated. "I expect that we will start seeing small changes in behaviour soon. Have you been monitoring her drinks?"
"We've been restocking her supplies each day," the aide confirmed. "She has one or two glasses of wine a night, the same vintage as well."
"Just enough to take the edge off. That's perfect," he smiled. "And the cameras remain operational?"
"We reactivated everything after the British did their sweep," she nodded. "There hasn't been much to see of note, to be fair."
"That will change, I expect," he said confidently.
"Will that be all, Minister?" the aide smiled.
He glanced at his watch. "I think I have some time yet before my next task. Have you made arrangements?"
She grinned and undid her robe. "I have a set of twins downstairs waiting for your call."
"Twins," he smiled, nodding his head thoughtfully. "I suppose I can handle three of you."
Private Residence of Mary Crawley, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
Mary set her empty wine glass down and took one last look out the large windows to the frenzy of colours shining below. The night life here was unlike anywhere else she had ever visited. There were businesses that operated overnight as part of their normal working hours in addition to all the entertainment operations and restaurants that carried on long into the night. It was all part of the image that one could do anything at anytime when here, and she found it quite amusing. She was years removed from the days of going to nightclubs and lounges with her friends at the weekend, and seldom did she have an evening where she didn't need to worry about duties coming in the morning. Watching the crowded streets below, she imagined all of these people heading out for a night of fun, letting the evening take them where it would, open to any possibility that life might present.
She smiled at the thought.
Eventually she turned away and ordered the drapes closed. Padding across the plush carpet in her bare feet, she came into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The air was crisp and cool here, just the way she liked it. It smelled fresh and clean, and the large bed was warm and soft by contrast. A large mirror was placed above the dresser and she stopped to look at herself. Her hair was styled in loose waves, far more casual than the tight braid she usually favoured on her ship. She gathered it across one side, similar to how she wore it the other night at the fundraiser. Running her fingers across her cheek and down her neck, she checked her porcelain skin for any blemishes. New Byzantium was always sunny and warm, but she hadn't coloured much at all since she started living here. Her hand trailed down across the open neck of her robe, finally settling at the sash across her waist. Pulling it free, she let the silk whisper down her arms and to the floor, leaving her naked in the cool air.
Her mind wandered back to the past weeks, the people she had met during her tours with Kemal. They were mostly other politicians and nameless staff, people quickly forgotten unless she was told to remember them. One thing that seemed to constantly draw her attention was how other women would look at the Minister, however. They ranged from polite respect to obvious desire, usually based on the rank of the woman in question. Underlings were in awe of him. Junior ministers were more unabashed in their admiration, and women with any kind of status or power seemed to crave him openly. There were some who were younger than her, others older, but they all seemed to not care a whit that she was there. They continued to talk to him, fawn over him, and even flirt with him despite her presence.
She caressed her bare breast idly, a shiver going through her as she pondered the coming days. If Kemal's birthday party was going to be held at a club or hall, there would be women there pining for his attention. As it would not be a formal government affair, there were likely to be those dressed in scandalously revealing attire trying to tempt him or at least stir his interest. A frown furrowed her brow at that. She would need to think on what she herself would wear, given the amount of media and cameras likely to be watching them.
Finally leaving the mirror, she slipped into bed, the light blankets enveloping her in warmth as she settled against the pillows. Taking several minutes to slow her breathing, she stared vacantly into the distance, the myriad thoughts of the day slowly ebbing into silence.
A smirk tugged at her lips as a single thought remained. Turning slightly on to her side, she reached into her nightstand and retrieved her headset, sliding it into her ear and adjusting the accompanying transmitter on the other side of her head.
There was a pause as a blue haze filled her vision. For a moment, her pulse jumped and she felt a sense of dread fill her stomach. Soon enough, though, the haze lifted, and she smiled as Matthew appeared before her.
"Hello," he nodded.
"Hello, darling," she replied. "Is now a good time?"
"I was just reviewing some reports," he shrugged. "You're in bed, I see."
"I am," she nodded.
He frowned slightly as he looked her over. "What are you wearing under the blankets, exactly?"
She arched her eyebrow playfully. "I'd be willing to show you, if you have the time."
"What are you suggesting?" he asked.
"I'm suggesting that you put away your reports, go get in bed and get comfortable," she answered.
He looked at her curiously, a smile eventually filling his face. "Well, I am feeling a bit tired, I suppose."
"I hope not too tired, mind," she smirked. "You're going to need your energy."
He blinked. "Am I?"
"Mmmhmm," she nodded.
"And why is that, may I ask?" he smiled.
"Well, it seems to me that you haven't fucked me in weeks," she retorted. "And that just will not do."
He grinned widely. "I agree. It's entirely unacceptable."
"Well, get in bed so we can rectify the situation," she teased.
"Show me what you're wearing first," he challenged.
She arched her eyebrow. "Matthew, get in bed."
"Blanket off," he shot back, crossing his arms over his front.
She gave him smouldering look before she slowly pulled the blanket free and spread her legs for good measure.
"Satisfied?" she questioned, arching her eyebrow.
"I intend to be, yes," he nodded.
She bit her lip as arousal flared in her chest. He made a show of undressing before her, taking his time and even turning around to face away from her before he removed his trousers and pants. Once he was settled in their bed, he was as naked as she was, and her eyes could not help but take him all in.
"Tell me that you wish I was there with you right now," he ordered.
She swallowed and ran her fingers over her stomach and up to her breast. "I wish you were here with me right now, darling."
"Show me. Touch yourself for me. Touch yourself where you want me to touch you," he growled.
She moaned as she caressed her breast with one hand while the other slid down between her legs.
"Touch yourself," she shot back. "Touch yourself where you wish my mouth was right now."
He laughed darkly and reached down to grasp himself.
"Oh God," she purred, licking her lips at the sight.
Their link through the virtual reality headsets made it appear as though they were in the same room, lying in separate beds facing each other. She felt the cool air on her heated skin, her arousal mounting as she touched and stroked herself, her eyes finding his. It was nothing compared to the real thing, but after being apart for so long, it was just the stimulation she needed.
"You're mine, Mary, say it," he called.
"I'm yours," she moaned, her eyelids fluttering as she writhed in her bed. "You're mine, Matthew, say it."
"I'm yours, my darling, forever," he nodded. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you here right this very second," she rasped. "I want you to put me on my hands and knees and make me scream for you."
"The moment you get back, you're mine," he promised. "You'll do everything that I say until I'm finished with you."
"Everything you say, God, yes!" she nodded, her pulse racing.
They barely were able to form coherent words as they kept on, both of them barely able to resist losing all control as they tried desperately to prolong the moment, this piece of time where they were connected and nothing else existed or mattered. When she began spewing crude filth at him, he grunted and gave it right back, the both of them finally falling apart together in shared release.
"Mmm, feel good, darling?" she asked sultrily.
"Much better, yes," he grinned. "I miss you, Mary."
"I miss you, too," she nodded. "I love you, Matthew. You must know that."
"I do, and I love you too," he nodded. "I'll try my best to not be a complete arse over the remainder of your assignment."
She laughed at that, a delightful flutter in her stomach at the sight of him naked and sated.
"Perhaps I could make a better effort to give us some more alone time together," she admitted. "I don't like going days without knowing what you're up to."
"I don't like it, either," he agreed. "And I promise to make our time together most enjoyable."
"I shall hold you to that," she grinned. "Now, tell me about your day."
"Very well, but should you fall asleep on me, I shall be quite annoyed," he warned.
She arched her eyebrow playfully. "And why is that? Did you have something else planned for tonight?"
He nodded, his eyes dark and needy. "I'm not done with you yet, Mary."
She smiled. "Well, tell me about your day and give me some time to recover."
"That sounds like a plan," he nodded.
Private Residence of Kemal Pamuk, New Byzantium, Milky Way Galaxy, May 2199
"Oh Matthew! Yes! Fuck me!"
Kemal smiled and watched the bank of monitors set out before him. He moved from one camera to another, changing the angle until he found one he liked. The overhead shot from above Mary's bed gave him a full view of her naked body sprawled out on the blankets. Her hand was working over herself, her moans clear and loud as she enjoyed a session with Captain Crawley from the Andromeda.
Kemal still got a smug sense of pride when he was proven right. Lady Mary Crawley was more than just a beautiful woman and a smart captain. She was a minx in private, coming up with heated words and impassioned cries that would rival some of the best escorts he had sampled over the years. While it was hardly surprising that she would enjoy sex with her boyfriend, there was that same dark edge that he had picked up on before, now fully on display for him. She was passionate and depraved and dirty. The veneer of the aristocratic, prim and proper British woman hid a wanton woman beneath and he was thrilled to see it for himself.
He sighed and watched on as she continued to pleasure herself, oblivious to his cameras recording her every move. Mary was far more than just a woman who enjoyed sex, of course, but this side of her that was so opposite from the sophisticated image she presented normally in public would help him unlock the defences in her mind and bend her to his will.
All he had to do was get her into the bathhouse after his birthday party, and the programming would do the rest.
"You gorgeous English beauty, you," he chuckled, shaking his head as she flew apart on the large screen. "It's but a matter of time now."