The evening was beginning to be long; not in time but in emotional energy. Illoia found herself held by this strange lad, held not only physically, but by his eyes, and that strange half-grin and hum which he seemed to make whenever he wasn’t actively speaking. And she had, no doubt, drunk more than had been good, even if the wine served to lasses was of a very weak variety. So she asked a question that she wouldn’t have, if she had been less tired.
“Why aren’t you married already?”
“It could be said I am, now,” he answered after a few seconds, pulling her even closer than the current dance allowed. “However your question has merit.”
“It is not from lack of desire, I assure you,” he continued. “But you should know that for those of us, myself and the other unmarried leaders here,” he said, glancing at Meriones, “most of those, altho by no means all, who wish to make leader have had to… or chosen to… focus a good deal of energy in that direction. I could have married on the trip to the capital, easily. However I knew that I was going to be going into an intense course-sim on advanced tactical coordination, and knew that would be very hard on a new marriage.”
“Eukles was in the same course,” he said, “altho a different section. And Meriones sacrificed himself into a course on logistics. I think he might end up a specialist Staff Major, permanent. Anyway, neither of us chose to marry before that.”
“Several others here are widowers, many with several small children. But you are perfectly correct, most in the Army marry at Middy or lower.”
“And you?” He asked, causing her pulse to spike, “You are older than many and still unmarried?”
“I think my father found me hard to place,” she said. “There was an incident a couple of years ago with a young man… He tried to force me to marry him.”
“Did he survive the attempt?”
Illioa flushed. “We both survived with our honour intact, and merely a few rumours. He… I think he thought I would go along with the attempt, so when I fought back and got away he didn’t follow. And his father is politically imporant…”
“I see. But that would perhaps have scared off other young men.”
“That and my father. He has a bit of a temper…”
Mid-Ranker Clarence Tolliver-ana almost shuddered at the memory that he had tried to get out of this duty. Praise the creator the Top that who assigned him the task had been adamant.
He stared out at the crowd, specifically at Hero Tomirosh and his new lass. He, Mid-Ranker Clarence Tolliver-ana, was never going to have to buy his own drinks at a military bar again. As long as anyone there knew who he was, knew he had been present when Hero Tomirosh had snapped up the daughter of the Sector Govenor, snapped her up despite her obvious, stupid, disdain. What an ignorant lass she must be not to know who…
“Evening,” he said, cheerfully as a young couple with a littlie walked passed him out the door.
But when he turned back to the room his pulse raced, because Hero Tomirosh and his lass had stopped dancing. She was staring at Hero Tomirosh, and he was staring… at the family that had just left?
And then, instead, Hero Tomirosh was staring at him, Mid-Ranker Clarence Tolliver-ana! He sat upright and did his very best to look official. He saw Tomirosh say something to his lass, and his lass, too, turned to look at him, Mid-Ranker Clarence Tolliver.
As they walked over to his table the entire room stilled, and the Middy in charge of the music stopped it, rather abruptly.
“We have a marriage to register,” Hero Tomirosh said. “I have gained the permission of the lass’s guardian, and her consent.”
“Name?” Clarence asked, his voice sounding very loud in the silence, and almost breaking. The lass stood there looking alternating angry and desperate, and the poor fool of a commander who had been her guardian stood a few steps back, looking panicked.
“Leader Cladin Tomirosh, 119087, Tenguan V, 5/6/05 previous.”
“Finger here, please,” Clarence continued, indicating the genetic scanner, and the hero inserted his right index finger into the slot and then withdrew it, the DNA scanner having painlessly acquired some skin cells.
The machine beeped and confirmed his name and rank and Clarence, his excitement beyond bearing, turned to the lass, “Name?” he squeaked, his voice clean breaking. Oh, his own wife was going to love this story! He wouldn’t have to tell her his voice broke.
“Illoia su-Tarreno I, Tarreno I, 5/8/03 previous.” The lass said, after a long pause.
“Finger please.”
Hero Tomirosh released her hand, and the lass inserted her finger into the slot.
When the machine beeped and confirmed her identity Clarence turned to back to Hero Tomirosh. “Acknowledge, please,”
“I, Leader Tomirosh, 119087, do hereby acknowledge invoking and accomplishing Article 17 with the female, present, formerly of the name of Illoia su-Tarreno I.”
Clarence then turned to Illoia, “Confirm, please.”
“I… I…” the lass started to say, but was interrupted by a voice from well behind her,
“What is this nonsense? He can’t just 17 her! She’s the governor’s own daughter…!”
The sound stopped as if, a hand had been clapped over a mouth. Clarence spared the briefest of glances to see an older lass holding a struggling younger lass and whispering urgently into her ear. No one could hear her, but everyone knew what she was saying: that she was coming dangerously close to treason.
“Confirm, please, Miss,” he repeated, turning back to the hero’s lass. She took a deep breath, and seeming to have gained courage from the interruption, snapped out, almost angrily, “I confirm. My guardian offers no objections, nor do I, to this match so I, formerly Illoia su-Tarreno I, acknowledge that I have become, per Article 17, Illoia Tomorish-ah.”
“You are registered,” Clarence said. Raising his voice he called out, “All hail the Dictator!”
“All Hail!” the entire crowd responded.
As the lass numbly allowed herself to be pulled to door, Clarence stared at Leader Eukles and his lass, who were holding hands and staring after them. “Next?!” He asked, frowning at their hands. Hand holding was rather a violation for unmarried couples, except during a dance as part of an official step or progress.
Leader Eukles let go of his lass’s hand with a start. “Ummm, no. I mean I haven’t…”
His lass grinned at Leader Eukles, winked at Clarence, took Eukles hand again and said, “My guardian is right over here. I believe we need to discuss our situation with him.”
Clarence scanned the crowd, but none of the other couples seemed ready to register, so he sat back and tried not to grin. He had been the one to register them! He, Mid-Ranker Clarence Tolliver-ana!
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Links
Article 17
Article 17 is a military science fiction story with aliens and romance. It is set in a future reminiscent of Napoleon era Britain. The war was going very poorly until the military installed a dictator. This story follows one of the dictator’s great men: Cladin Tomirosh, Leader, and thrice decorated hero.
Intro // Podcast Version
She was pretty, popular, snobby, and a planetary governor’s daughter. He was the son of shopkeepers, a social misfit, and a decorated hero. She thought she was there to dance. He had other ideas.
A Dance // Podcast Version
As a governor’s daughter, Illoia usually avoided such events, but when the captain made the announcement that there was to be an Article 17 dance, she, too, was forced to attend. If only the scum hadn’t been there too.
The Unbridgeable Chasm // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones, brave military leaders, quail at the idea of crossing the gulf between themselves and asking a lass to dance.
There He Is // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and Aleshia and Illoyia gossip about him.
Look at the Young Hero // Podcast Version
The young hero comes in, and greets Eukles and Meriones… and announces his intentions.
Target // Podcast Version
Tom, Leader Cladin Tomirosh, sets his sights on the governors daughter. She isn’t impressed.
Fuming // Podcast Version
Tom and Illoia dance, while she desperately tries to get him to go away!
Now’s Our Chance! // Podcast Version
Eukles and Meriones use Tom and Illoia as a distraction and stalk their own girls.
To Slap or Not to Slap // Podcast Version
Meriones introduces himself to his new wife with a slap on the backside.
No Sane Man // Podcast Version
Illoia insults the young hero, and he proposes.
Never You, Darling // Podcast Version
Illoia finds herself unable to turn down his proposal.
A Wild Dance // Podcast Version
Illoia finds being Tom’s Consented Wife hard… with wild New Irish dances and immodest ones.
And it's done. What *will* her father think? 😉
I think there needs to be a better transition to the registrar's viewpoint. As it is, it seems like we're about to get a view of the lass's back story, and suddenly we're in this guy's head.
Just study the hands