"...and take care of yourselves, okay? See you later!"
When my callers finally hung up, I clenched the handset I was holding with all my might, took a deep breath, and then gently set it down on the fork of the connected landline without taking my exasperated gaze off it. With haste, I proceeded to take a long and steady exhalation, during which I began to gradually loosen the piece of the service antique I was holding until I dropped it completely. When I finished, and my left hand was no longer scarred by unnecessary weight, the void in my mind was immediately filled by one very simple question:
"Where are you, idiot?!"
So what if he was supposed to get here five minutes ago? I needed him here immediately; I was also a little surprised that the just-finished phone conversation with my own parents had seriously shaken my inner peace, yet it made me 100% sure that I wouldn't have to invite that jerk into my office one more time to repeat to him everything I had just been told.
I got up from my chair and with a smooth motion turned towards the glass window which overlooked the distant seaport: despite its royal status it looked rather ordinary, though decorated with dozens of exotic plants and ever more impressive vessels. Within seconds, I spotted a couple of cruise ships filled with tourists (most likely they belonged to those insufferable foreign travel agents) and one medium-sized frigate that could have been owned by any of the residents of the surrounding islets. I relaxed, intertwined my arms, and began to slowly piece together my ragged thoughts, while casually gazing at the feathery clouds scattered across the sky.
I couldn't deny it: his manners were impeccable, his talents versatile, and his skills exemplary compared to anyone I dealt with on a daily basis in my palace. However, deep inside his golden eyes, I could also see something else; I had taken notice of it ever since I hired him and began calling him my "employee," but in order to understand it, I had to repeatedly compare his service posture with others. Gardon was the perfect reference point: he always performed his duties not only conscientiously, but with an elegance worthy of me and my entire family. Meanwhile, when my "employee" set things in motion, it was accompanied by a suspicious aura of... pushiness, I think? Nevermind.
When Gardon would have preferred to remain silent and sit on the sidelines, he would always add his three cents, no matter what situation he found himself in. I wouldn't flinch with rage if he wasn't furthermore polite to everyone; and I mean disgustingly polite. How can I trust someone who greets literally everyone he passes on his way to work every day? He is, after all, a member of the royal guard, for crying out loud!
I don't stop telling him that if he is to continue to represent the Sol Empire administration at national and international level, then everyone should greet "him" and not the other way around. But he? He doesn't listen to me, he just keeps grinning his moronic baby-looking face and waving his paws as if my words don't make any sense to him! His true power fits this image as well as a balled-up fist fits someone else's nose; if it weren't for him, the entire Resistance on the South Island would turn to dust, and I would have to — horror of horrors — personally respond to the growing threat from the Eggman Empire! I try at all costs to tell myself that he is hiding his true face in this way... only then what if I'm proven wrong?
What if he really is a utter idiot who will one day expose my entire political power to absolute ridicule? It's because of questions like these that I can't stand his presence in person; he's always surrounded by a stench of false naivete that makes me feel like throwing up.
Suddenly, from behind the closed door there began to come the increasing clatter of someone's shoes hitting the ceramic floor of the corridor adjoining my private office; whenever I was sure that the pace of this noise was about to become rhythmic, it immediately lost its rhythm and tried to improve, but with unpleasant-sounding results. I didn't lose hope that my "employee" was responsible for it, as he hurried to report his readiness to proceed.
At that moment I heard a violent creak coming from the side of the door, followed by someone's frantic panting. Wanting to look professional, I did not turn around but stood at attention and focused my gaze even more on the panorama of the area from behind my desk, looking immersed in my thoughts while pretending not to be aware of the presence of the mysterious visitor.
"Blazey...?"
When I heard it, I immediately felt as if the bloodstream of my entire body had stopped, my heart twisted like a piece of wet clay, and the neurons in my brain began to commit collective suicide one by one. Unable to ignore that frighteningly familiar tone of voice, I turned my head and saw the cursed sight I had waited far too long for: in front of me stood an ashen-white mobian whose life-weary gaze jumped chaotically around the room until it began to calm down a bit and finally stopped on my face. His dark peach-colored muzzle was immediately covered by a gentle smile, and the bizarre hairstyle on his forehead (which, by the way, reminded me of a certain interesting plant) gently fell to the back of his head, hugging a pair of ruddy ears and nicely arranged spikes.
It was "him" in all his glory: Silver the hedgehog, my own personal emergency dork.
"Oh, there ya are!", he choked out, trying to calm his feverish breathing, "I'm sorry ya had to wait so long, but when I—"
"We need to talk."
When I interrupted him, his smile immediately shrank, while an expression of slight doubt mixed with concern began to paint itself on his face.
"Uhh... yes, Your Majesty."
The hedgehog extended his right arm toward the folded plastic chair that rested peacefully against the wall by one of the cabinets, then gently unfolded his hand, illuminating the turquoise circles visible on either side of a pair of white gloves; his hairstyle lifted and stiffened completely, and the strange yellow rings under his hands parted in a flash, revealing a rim glowing with intense turquoise light.
As his golden eyes lit up with the turquoise glow, he immediately surrounded the chair with a layer of light, with a gentle movement of the same paw as before. Then, he swiped it gently towards his thick, snow-white fluff on his chest and lifted the whole thing into the air, magically unfolding it with the snap of his fingers. The hedgehog turned it around and finally placed it on the floor in such a way that it stood perfectly in front of the chair from which I had gotten up a few moments ago.
To a mere mortal it might have looked like an impressive display of skill by a talented illusionist, but to him it was a tedious routine, for which, incidentally, I had made the decision to employ him long-term. While this cheeky bastard looked perfectly focused, psychokinesis could be in his hands (or rather, in his mind) a weapon of mass destruction that the world's most powerful military powers would boldly fight over.
At one point he even managed to crush an entire truck to be scrapped! That's right: a whole freaking 18-wheeler truck. And he did it with nothing more than his own thoughts, which probably consist of countless videos of funny Chao playing on a loop! You may think I'm slowly becoming paranoid, but when I realized what I witnessed that day, I couldn't sleep for the next few weeks.
I mean... what would happen if I found myself in the place of that pile of junk? Just the thought of it makes me a little sick.
As the spikes on the front of Silver's forehead wilted and his turquoise markings on his gloves and rings faded, he decided to sit down in his freshly prepared chair. He intertwined the fingers of both hands and cautiously looked back, wanting to check that he had definitely closed the door behind him leading to my workstation; as soon as he noticed the small gap between it and its thick frame, he extended his right hand again and swiped it quickly, closing it properly. He then turned his gaze back to me and perked up both ears, keeping the same mixture of emotions on his muzzle as before.
"So... about what, exactly?", he asked me timidly, remembering my last words.
I returned to my chair as gently as I could, then loosely laid and crossed my forearms on the desk top.
"Just guess..."
The hedgehog sitting across from my eyes, clearly not expecting such an answer, froze in place and mused awkwardly for a few seconds.
"Is this about my being late, Your Majesty?"
"Nope."
"How about that Blazey I called ya, Your Majesty?"
"Not either."
Silver's golden pupils dilated several times, suggesting to my instinct that the growing fear within him was gradually beginning to take control of his emotions. It seemed to me that for a moment he had no idea how he could answer me; he merely raised his right hand to scratch his cheek with it.
"Ya don't mean to tell me that... that wacko is up to something again?"
Knowing perfectly well that when he said "that wacko" he meant a certain techno-terrorist who constantly threatened my safety and the integrity of the entire state, I slightly raised my left hand and gently lowered my face onto it.
"You're an idiot...", I sighed in embarrassment, "Doctor Eggman Nega has nothing to do with this."
"Really...?", he breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank Chaos...! It's just that... Your Majesty is aware that he can attack at any time, isn't he?"
"Are you really asking me 'bout that?", I rolled my eyes, "Besides, when I kick someone's ass, I'll cause them fourth degree burns! That dumb old man wouldn't stand a chance against me. Oh, and could you please stop calling me Your Majesty? That sounds good only on official occasions."
"I understand, Bla- uhm, Princess..."
Here we go again; there was a moment of awkward silence that was slowly eating away at our frowning psyches. Perhaps it would have been better, after all, if I hadn't teased the half-wit, but told him at once everything he necessarily needed to know? I leaned my back against the back of the chair and then took a shallow breath in through my nose.
"I need your help with my parents", I said, "I think we both know very well what they are busy with right now..."
"Ya mean those plenary talks they're having at the United Federation?"
"That's right. A while ago they called me to inform me that their visit will be extended by several weeks. I'm not surprised. I rarely see them anyway..."
Silver's tired face became even deeper in fear, which began to slowly transform into biting trepidation.
"...by several weeks?" he squeaked quietly, "B-but the Duke of Soleanna is coming to visit us in less than a few days!"
"Not us, you moron! He's coming to visit me."
Hearing this, the hedgehog furrowed his left brow, and his right ear fell clumsily on his forehead.
"To you? In the sense that... Uh... In what sense, exactly?"
"It's simple," I smiled, "Due to my parents' absence, I'll be forced to replace them as someone to show our VIP around the palace and chat with him over a nice cup of tea... until he finally asks out some good deal that will make me... I mean... my Empire rich! Yeah, my Empire! Sounds remarkable, doesn't it?"
Upon noticing my quivering smile, Silver immediately raised both eyebrows, clearly showing that he understood what I meant.
"I like that!" he snorted, and the weather on his face improved considerably, "It just seems to me that... you're hiding a itsy-bitsy catch from me..."
"...and just so you know!", I gently leaned towards the desk, supporting my torso with my slightly bent arms, "And just so you FRIGGIN' know!
"Lemme guess... Am I going to have to bask in the bushes to make sure no one spoils your meeting?"
Oh Lord, finally! I got him to the proper topic of our conversation without any unnecessary outbursts of rage! If my psychologist saw that, he'd be damn proud of me...
"Well, not this time!", I propped my chin up with my right hand, "I think my diplomatic skills would be more effective if my guest received some sort of... a gift. Especially one that would remind him of me. One that is elegant, mysterious, sometimes surprising..."
"...and excessively sadistic?"
"...what?"
"What?"
"Okay then, let's have it your way. Anyway, the idea is to maintain that first impression throughout the conversation, until its very end. Do you have any suggestions?"
The ashen hedgehog stared at me for a few more blinks of his eyelids, until he finally tore his gaze away and pointed it to the top of my desk; his face became strangely indifferent and his eyebrows slowly creased until he looked like someone seriously considering the question he had just heard.
"That sounds a little harder than I expected...", he announced with mild surprise, "Do ya have any additional requirements for it, Princess?"
"Me?", I settled down slightly from my desk, "Heck no! I would just like to find a gift that would be... uhh... our ticket to a good future!"
"...our ticket?"
"Yeah! Our ticket!", I perked up my ears, trying to feign excitement, "This is patriotism at its finest!"
As I said this, I noticed an ever-increasing glint painted on Silver's eyes; I didn't know if it was a sign of childish excitement, sudden genius, or something else entirely, but I definitely didn't have time to think about it at the moment. The hedgehog raised his right hand again and this time scratched at his left ear, which twitched involuntarily a few times; then he snapped his fingers and his mouth opened, gradually changing into a wide smile.
"I've got it!" he whispered comfortingly, "How about... a bottle of some exquisite vodka?"
"Huh...?"
"Y'know, something that can describe you in your purest form! Like you just mentioned to me!"
Uh-huh! Here we go again... This little snot is about to get down on his crooked knees in front of me, just to suck up to me as much as possible. I hate it when he starts talking about how much he "wants to be brave and honorable just like me" and that "I'm the hardest working person he have ever met". This time, however, he's probably going to wind up talking about how ruthless and relentless I am against my enemies and those of my country.
Oh, please, let's get over with it...
"Do you have a particular kind in mind?", I quizzed him, "Or some producer? I dunno..."
"All at once!", he smiled even more and squinted, "It's called Lettelse and it's of the pure but premium kind. A piece of regional craftsmanship! Seriously!"
"And why on earth would I choose it?"
"That's a very good question, Blazey..."
"Princess..."
"Err... yes, Princess...", he corrected himself, "Well, 'cause ya see, when I was going to order it for myself and... uh... a friend I lost a bet with, the waiter mentioned that it was a very limited production stuff. Everything was supposedly handmade. At first I found his words to be a bunch of utter nonsense, but once I tasted one glass... Holy crap, what a mind-blowing experience that was! The purity and consistency of it was so delightfuly transparent that I was completely ignited with a unique flame, for the achievement of which perhaps decades of eugenics were sacrificed! The soul of this liquid was not only present. It was fully palpable, or at least on my tongue, which was attacked by complete surprise. This vodka was absolutely uncompromising! I mean... it was simple, yet raw. Understood, yet unbridled. Its accidental discovery was the most magical 58% of alcohol I have ever tasted."
I wasn't quite sure whether this alcoholic beverage was really as wonderful as my ashen-coloured comrade had described, but — deep down in the back of my mind — I had a strong feeling that I could benefit from it a lot.
And the whole conversation went without any comparisons to me! He deserved it.
"You know what? It looks like you have taste," I raised an eyebrow, "If things go our way, I'll take it under further consideration. Then I'll let you know what happens next. Now get out of here, because I have some work to do..."
"Coming right up, Blazey!"
"Ugh..."
Several hours passed and I still had no desire to leave my office. Hundreds of phone calls made, websites visited, and videos watched had seriously convinced me of what my imperial moron had recently mentioned to me; this stuff was more than I initially thought. Bottles of this vodka were selling out insanely fast, and due to the very conservative process of its production, all distributors were forced to wait for further restocking, which often took... several months. Not days, not weeks, but months. Every liquor store I was able to contact claimed to be out of stock, regardless of whether they preferred to run their services online or offered products only to people spoiled by life among the upper class; in other words, people like me.
I was gnashing my teeth, wagging my tail, while the entire guard was busy convincing every possible salesman of the urgency of my order and ineptly brewing more cups of lemon balm tea. Feeling utterly powerless, I decided to take the final step and informed Silver of the failure of my search; now all that was left was to wait for him to arrive again. I hoped he would not waste my evening with his poor condi-
"Hey, Princess!", I suddenly heard from across the room.
I abruptly snapped out of my monologic lethargy and reflexively improved my sitting position, not wanting to arouse unnecessary suspicions of laziness and exposing myself to a not very royal-looking curvature of the spine. I strained my gaze and saw a familiar-looking ashen hedgehog enter the office and close the door behind it, but this time without using its psychokinesis.
"Good evening, Silver," I nodded to him, "I've been waiting for you..."
"I saw your message," he answered me with sympathy in his voice, "Is it really that hard to get it done?"
"That hard?", I shuddered, "I'm getting tired here, you jackass! You can't buy that damn vodka anywhere!"
"Not even overseas?"
"Yes, even overseas. At home, overseas, from private individuals... Argh! I've tried everything! EVERYTHING! I even threatened its manufacturer with nuclear warheads, which... uhh... the Sol Empire is unlikely to have in its arsenal, but never mind that..."
"...and how did they react to that?"
"They told me that this isn't a hotline for jokes and hung up. They also blocked my royal phone number, so further diplomacy is out."
"Oh..."
Intense consternation gripped us both, resulting in a few seconds spent awkwardly staring at each other; while I tried to hide the excess of suppressed rage from my employee, he lowered his head slightly and looked genuinely concerned, something I had seen in him relatively rarely.
"Since we can't do anything about it...", he raised his gaze back to me, "...why don't we look for something else to give him as a gift?"
"Don't even think about it!", I snorted, "Everything I've learned about that vodka sounds downright perfect for the upcoming circumstances! It's the one!"
"And how am I supposed to get a bottle of it for you?"
"Go back in time for me a few months."
When the ashen hedgehog understood the meaning of my words, he immediately scowled, and the worry on his face gave way to thunderous horror.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!" he growled, backing away from my desk, "Shame on you, Blaze! Shame on you!"
"Why, moron?"
"You know perfectly well that time travel is extremely unethical, and in the worst case scenario can ruin the entire world we live in!"
"I don't give a crap about that. If you don't do this, I'll-"
"Alright, alright...", he interrupted me, then sighed bitterly, "I'll need a pair of Chaos Emeralds for that first. Whichever ones..."
"Pairs of... what?!"
"Hey! Ya really thought I could do this on my own?" he raised his left eyebrow, "And if my memory serves me right, all of them were secured by the G.U.N. shortly after I brought down with that red echidna the entire Eggman Empire. Specifically for you. Don't forget, you still owe me a weekend at a nearby SPA for all of that dirty work!"
"I'll think of something when you finally get that bloody bottle for me..." I said through clenched teeth, "And as for those G.U.N. fellas, can't you break into them or something?"
"I understand your desperation, Princess, but I don't think the President of the United Federation would be pleased to discover the theft of two of the seven most powerful artifacts any living being can ever get their hands on. Wouldn't it be better instead to try... uh... something else?"
"Like what?"
"Replace them with Sol Emeralds...?"
"Are you frickin' kidding me?"
"I hope not", he smiled sourly, "Besides, what would ya do if an incident occurred during this time travel that resulted in your entire administration being overthrown by an enraged mob with pitchforks and torches?"
"Uhh... I would have burned it to ashes?", I shrugged my shoulders, "Under the law of necessary defense, of course!"
"Ya didn't have to answer me that," he muttered, and the sour smile disappeared from his face, "Anyway, when this war finally ended, I decided it would be much safer for all of us if I settled down in the present and left all that time travel nonsense far behind once and for all. These things are really dangerous and don't look like the kind of things that happen in the movies! Seriously!"
Oh crap, I think I'm falling into a trap: if this moron continues to refuse to perform the duties assigned to him, I'll be forced to fire him and throw him out on his butt... while losing someone who saved my own butt a few years ago!
Respect for the other mobian creature was an important part of my family's tradition, thanks to which it (and the treasures it guarded) have survived to this day; I had to figure something out as soon as possible, or else my grand plan would go to sleep with the fishes.
"I see you are taking my safety very seriously," I intertwined my fingers, beginning to flatter him, "I understand that. The problem is that we live in times that are constantly changing, and with them our habits and ways of fighting for a better tomorrow. Are you sure you think you would be able to find a better way for me to get that bottle than the ones we just discussed?"
"I'm afraid not...," he sighed humbly, and his heretofore pointed ears laid back to his sides, "I wouldn't find one, princess. If this keeps up, we'll only be able to dream about such a gift at best..."
To dream, huh? This moron has an abysmal sense of humor. To dream, to dream, to dream... Bah! Nothing but... to dream?! YES! TO DREAM!
"SILVER!", I spontaneously rose from my seat, "YOU ARE A FRICKIN' GENIUS!"
"Wha..?"
I didn't answer him, but grabbed the handset of my office phone and dialed the number that had been stuck in my head for years as quickly as possible. Not even a moment passed before a surprisingly catchy blues tune began to play, and I waited for the right call to be made. It fell silent less than half a minute later, giving way to the soft hum of the microphone inside someone else's handset on the other end of the line.
"CHAOTIX!" a slightly harsh voice unexpectedly roared from behind the phone, "We never turn down work that pays! How can we help you?"
"Vector, do you still remember me?"
"How many times have I told you that— Hey! Wait a minute... Your Highness?!"
"I have a new job for your bunch."
"GUYS, COME HERE QUICK! IT'S A BIG ONE!"
The voice from behind the landline quieted down, giving way to barely audible creaking and buzzing; it only took a few murmurs to realize that my caller already had the remaining members of his three-man detective agency. At the same time, Silver was piercing me with increasingly concerned eyes.
"Your Highness, are you still there?", I heard Vector's voice again.
"All the time."
"Before we get into specifics...", he laughed nervously, "...could I know what the expected payout will be? Just as... uh... a rough estimate?"
"The priority of this assignment is too high for me to determine at this time," I replied monotonously, "So don't expect any hard limit... or none at all."
The handset went silent again, but this time for a few moments longer; it didn't seem very good, because I remembered Vector as a born businessman who couldn't shut his long mouth, often ranting about the most ridiculous things. Was he stunned by the ecstasy that seized him at the thought of good amounts of money, or did he simply not have any witty retort to my reply? Before I had time to come up with an answer to that question, I heard a mechanical click and several buzzes suggesting that the call had been terminated; so I was sure that he and his fellow detectives were on their way.
I was already about to tell Silver in more detail what idea had formed in my royal mind, when the door of the office was unexpectedly opened by a koala not much shorter than me: the blue fez on its grey head let me know unequivocally that I was dealing with Gardon, who was my most trusted guard. He looked tired, yet very happy and confident; he was carrying not only his golden sword, but also a large trash can that was similar in size to himself. It looked somewhat amusing, although certainly not to him.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty, but something has happened...", he said with slight irritation, "Something serious has happened..."
"Could it be that someone stole the Jeweled Scepter from us again?"
"Fortunately not, but it could have been close," he replied, sliding the metal trash can he was holding out in front of him, "Literally moments ago, we intercepted three intruders who were in an area designated for palace staff only. One of them insisted that the whole bunch had been personally invited by you, Your Majesty, so the rest of the guard decided to hand them over directly to your office. It is entirely up to you to decide what to do with them..."
Before I had time to ask him about the details of the incident, Gardon tilted the can, from which a trio of mobians spilled out: a green crocodile, a purple chameleon, and a somewhat small bee; each of them looked slightly confused, though strangely familiar, at least to me. However, I paid the most attention to the first one: the tough-looking crocodile, which looked to be several heads taller than me, raised its head and looked directly at me and Silver. Literally everything pointed to the fact that it was...
"...Vector?"
"My respects, Your Highness!", he got up from the floor, then lifting Espio and Charmy off of it, "Sorry for this little mix-up, but... you remember our working philosophy, don't-cha?"
"...philosophy?", I tried to smile, while not croaking from embarrassment, "Err... yeah, philosophy! I was sure that you had something like that, but..."
"Oh, really? Gee...", he interrupted me in surprise, then glanced at his purple-haired companion, "Hey, ninja! Could you remind everyone of that PR stuff? You know it much better than I do..."
Espio sighed sadly while maintaining the same stony expression as a moment ago; he didn't look very happy.
"At Chaotix, we believe that quality customer service is more than just fake smiles and handing out promotional gifts," he began to speak, every now and then reluctantly jumping his gaze between a relaxed Vector and a surprised Gardon, "So we strive to make working with our clients as smooth as possible. These values also apply to the waiting time for our arrival..."
"Thanks Espio!", Charmy bit into the end of his statement, "Your sacrifice is appreciated!"
Everyone in the office momentarily fell into a Mexican standoff: Gardon and Silver hung their perplexed gazes on me, while I glared with clenched teeth at Vector and company, who were staring like fools at the surprised pair of royal guards. If I could confide in anyone, I had witnessed a rather unusual situation; in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere, I approached Gardon, trying to keep something of a smile on my face.
"False alarm, everybody!", I told him, laughing nervously, "I invited them to discuss a very important matter with them. Nevertheless, I thank you and the other members of the guard for your quick response."
"Gah! I feared the worst...", the guard fell into a slight embarrassment, "Is there anything else Your Majesty wishes?"
I moved to him at an even closer distance, signaling that I want to say something to him in a whisper; the koala put his right ear to which I placed my mouth, slightly covered by my left hand.
"Make some tea," I whispered to him, "Five cups. Earl Grey. Just add some sleeping aids to one of them. This one will be for Silver..."
"Wh-what? Why should I?"
"I'll explain when you get back..."