Vagabonds Page 5

  Mingling. The word got her hackles up, even if no one could see them. Having to praise someone because they managed the political equivalent of putting their pants on all by themselves was a necessary part of the job. One she wouldn’t be able to change even should she become the ruler of Yosel. Or even the world.

  And if she heard that she was “Head and shoulders above…” one more time, she was going to lose it. Everyone thought they were so witty, ha ha, yes! She’d cover her mouth with a hand and force a practiced, cordial laugh. The smile was real, but only because she imagined what they’d look like missing their arms and legs. She was going to need a refill in her glass of wine much sooner than anticipated.

  During one particular exchange in which she was teetering on the edge of irreparably damaging her political ambitions, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Mercy had arrived.

  “Tess! How good to see you,” Sejit said, then cut off the man she’d been speaking with mid-sentence, “Apologies, minister. While our conversation has been scintillating, I have other things I must discuss.”

  The man attempted to argue the importance of his discussion, but the way Sejit was smiling made him reconsider. For once he got the hint, nodded, and left.

  “Sorry I’m late, had some shit I needed to see to,” Tess said, glancing around Sejit towards the man as he meandered off to bother someone else.

  “I appreciate the save. It is amazing how some can think themselves of such importance when they do so little.”

  “What’s he the minister of?”

  “Oceanic resource management,” Sejit said with a dour expression.

  “Amazing. He must be capable if they believe one man can oversee nearly, what, 200 miles of coastline? How does he manage?”

  Sejit sighed, “Yes, the mind does boggle. When I come to power, there will have to be changes.”

  “Be careful of too much change all at once,” Tess said, pausing to give Sejit a once over, “I’m surprised to see you in a suit. Figured you’d have opted for something a little more traditional to garner all that conservative support.”

  “The traditionalists are on the way out. People want change. Those of keener sense in the government are aware of this.”

  “If they want change, then why not, say, appeal to them?” Tess said, tilting her head and allowing a sly smile to spread as she showed off her dress. It was a little black number, hugging close to each swell and curve, and seemed to defy gravity until the eye left the bare skin that ran uninterrupted from shoulder to waist and noticed where the material disappeared behind her nape, reappearing at her bust. Cocking a hip, Tess revealed an almost scandalous amount of leg, the dress splitting almost to the upper thigh. None of the luscious material seemed to betray the existence of underwear beneath, either

  “You’ve certainly got the legs for it,” Tess said, appraisingly, “Not many heads of government have had multitudes wanting to fuck them.”

  “You look like a courtesan,” Sejit said, flatly, “All that is missing from your ensemble is an old man.”

  Tess leaned back and crossed her arms under her appreciable bosom, “And what’s wrong with that? Fucking your way to the top is a tried-and-true method.”

  Sejit shook her head, “Why do you do this?”

  “Because if you want to build your power base after they vote for you, you’ll need to remove the tree lodged up your ass.”

  “And you believe they want someone who has had half the government inside her?”

  “It’d give your fanclub a bit of hope, seeing as how you’re the youngest-looking woman in Yosel politics by a mile.”

  The glass in Sejit’s hand had been empty far too long. She knew this because Tess was beginning to make sense. “Every day I wonder how you have become one of the most successful names in the world. I do not believe I will ever find the answer.”

  “Just means I know what I’m talking about,” Tess said with a sly glint.

  “There is more than one—”

  Sejit’s response was cut off as an inebriated fellow in a suit that had been tailored for someone slimmer bumbled up to the pair, though his focus was on Tess.

  “Miss Isolde!” He began, raising his glass to her, “You honor us with your presence! And already meeting with our future Marshal!” The man beamed, cheeks glowing in drunken warmth.

  “Ah, Minister of Finance Redsketh,” Sejit said in the best political voice she could manage after being interrupted, “Seraphina and I were having a conversation.” She smiled. To anyone of sober mind, they would have taken the warning and departed.

  It wasn’t so much that he was stupid. After all, the internal finances of the state were not too badly off, all things considered. No, he was just a politician who did love his politics and had a worrying inability to pick up on basic mannerisms. Such was the nature of those in finance.

  He leaned in towards Tess, which had the effect of forcing him to look up even more than he had to when he first ambled in. “You look simply marvelous! Might I ask what has brought you to our humble gathering?”

  Tess extended her hand towards the Minister’s with all the trepidation of someone who had to touch a puddle of mystery slime. “Thank you. You look… Like a minister.”

  “…I shall leave you two to discuss monetary matters,” Sejit said, no longer quite so irritated at having been interrupted, “I require a refill.”

  Tess pleaded with her eyes, to which Sejit responded: “I seem to recall you mentioning a method to reach the top?”

  The angry scowl from Tess was enough to buoy Sejit’s mood and she maneuvered away, disappearing into the throng. Inviting Tess had been the smart play, after all. Most already knew she was one of the major sponsors of the museum, so having Tess assist with the mingling and being seen together would elevate her position. Having to rely on outside aid was a less-than-attractive situation, but she’d waited long enough to enact her plans.

  The weight of her empty glass beckoned. One of the servers had to be around somewhere—and, as it happened, she spotted Sophia with a tray in hand, doing her best to navigate the crowds. She was doing well, only bumping into every other person instead of all of them.

  Sejit pushed through the masses like a tractor plowing through a field of wheat.

  “Sophia,” she said as she broke through a wall of well-heeled guests.

  “Ah! What? Oh, Se-Jasmine,” Sophia said, the tray nearly tumbling from her palm. She was quick to catch it, but Sejit was even quicker to snatch a full glass as several skid towards the edge, just in case. “How are things going?”

  “As well as expected,” Sejit said, carefully placing her empty on the tray as to not upset the delicate balance. She took a sip of the champagne. “And now they are slightly better.”

  “That’s great,” Sophia said with half-lidded eyes, “Oh, since you asked, things are shit with me.”

  “I do not recall asking, but go on.”

  “Not only are these assholes rude, but they’re also—”

  A man swapped his empty for a full glass, and at the same time, threw Sophia a wink and gave her behind a pat. She stared daggers at him, but he just laughed and melted away, his black suit camouflaging him amongst all the others.

  “They’re also touchy!”

  “So long as you remember not to touch back.”

  Sophia shot an angry glare, but the effect was diminished when she realized her frilly white headband was canted and straightened it out. “You wouldn’t tolerate having a bunch of crusty old men touching your ass, so why do I?”

  Sejit swirled her glass, “What makes you think I do not allow myself to be debased and insulted on a daily basis? Even tonight I have had to crawl through mud and cake myself with their filth. Do not forget that without discipline, we would never accomplish our goals.”

  “You say that,” Sophia grumbled, “But we shouldn’t have to deal with this to get ahead.”

  “It is ‘we’ now, is it?”

  “Yes, we.”
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br />   Sejit simply looked at Sophia, then upended her glass, downing it in one go. She placed the empty glass with its companions.

  “You stretch my patience more than any mortal alive,” Sejit said in her usual calm, though a hint of a smile played across her features.

  Sophia remained unimpressed. “See, you’ve threatened me too much, it’s stopped working. Besides, if I really do piss you off, I could just run away before you murder me horribly. Maybe.”

  “Indeed, but that plan hinges on me not following you.”

  “Why would the great goddess want to bother with little ol’ me?” An attempt was made at a cute, innocent face, which didn’t work out so well for a multitude of reasons.

  “Satisfaction.”

  “I’d be flattered,” Sophia said, pressing a hand to her chest.

  Sejit’s smile spread and she plucked one of the few remaining full glasses from among its empty brethren. “As you should be. To get back to the point, you say we should not have to endure such degradation,” she said, pausing to gaze into the golden, bubbling liquid within her glass, “But it is human nature.”

  “What, to want to grab my ass?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. There is no mortal who is not prejudiced; there will always be favorites, outsiders, and those who are viewed so poorly as to become objects.”

  “That’s…” Sophia hesitated, “…not untrue, but…”

  “But?”

  “But if anyone gets friskier, that’s it!” Sophia said, storming off, or storming as much as she could storm while wearing a frilly maid outfit and carrying a tray.

  Sejit watched the girl leave. Normally, Sophia would have attempted to argue like she did with everything. There was hope for her after all.

  Meanwhile, across the party, Tess shivered as the minister went on and on. Three times now he’d touched her exposed thigh. Well, she’d exposed it for that reason, just her bait had hooked the wrong kind of fish and no matter how many times she threw it back, it returned without fail. She wanted someone young, preferably inexperienced—and the banquet was packed full of just the sort of meals she enjoyed. Anyone well-to-do was married, and they all had children. Many of them sons in their teens and early 20s, full of that haughtiness that came from their background, but without any actual experience to back it up. Few things compared to the delights of bending them to her will until just before they broke.

  She could see them milling about, fighting the currents of the mob instead of flowing along with it. Made them stand out. Easy pickings.

  Then Sophia bumped into her.

  “Ah! Sorry, sor—Oh, Tess!”

  “What, you’re suddenly not sorry when you know it’s me? Why are you a waitress here, anyways?”

  “That’s not what I meant, I’m just… Sort of glad to see you, is all. And this is my punishment,” she said, shoulders slumping, “for a little slip-up at the museum.”

  “Again?”

  “Well then, who is this young lady? I take it you two know each other?” the minister chimed in, looking at Sophia in the way that suggested that his mind was busily removing her maid outfit.

  Sophia groaned and rolled her eyes, “Great, another one.”

  “Yes, we do,” Tess said to the minister, then shifted her attention back to the girl, “I take it you’ve been popular this evening?”

  “It’d be nice if I wasn’t. Did you know Se-Jasmine told me it was something I have to endure?”

  “Endure?” Tess said, quirking a brow, “I get the feeling you missed something.”

  “I dunno, she was pretty clear.”

  Matters of possible nuance and hidden meanings aside, an idea percolated into Tess’ mind. Dispense of the unpleasant old man and teach the girl an important lesson.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” The minister said impatiently.

  “Want to know how to deal with guys like this?” Tess said, ignoring him.

  “What, shoot them?”

  The minister frowned. “Pardon?”

  Tess laughed, not her usual, unnerving laugh that sounded, to some, like someone choking, but a polite, lady-like titter. All that was missing was a raised hand to cover her mouth. “No, though that could be a solution. It’s much simpler: Be aggressive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like so,” Tess said, turning to the minister, who had been growing irritated. Now that the focus was upon him, his plastic smile returned.

  “This is Sophia,” Tess said, taking a step closer, “She’s a silly, young, naïve thing. Don’t mind her.”

  “It’s nothing. Just how young ladies are,” said the minister, smile sagging under the weight of lechery.

  Tess slid in close enough to drape an arm around the man’s neck and pulled him close, forcing him to look into her eyes. “We know each other well.”

  The lecherous grin was still there, but the confidence was fading. He was confused, but hopeful at the prospect, alternating his gaze between them.

  “We could… get to know you as well,” Tess breathed into his ear. To cap her words, she grabbed his package through his pants and squeezed. “How about it? There’s bound to be some empty rooms around here somewhere.”

  He made a shrill noise and squirmed. Tess released him and he stepped back. She winked and licked her lips.

  “I, uh, just remembered something important I have to do,” he said in a rush and disappeared into the crowd.

  “What the hell was that?” Sophia said, voice full of awe.

  Now Tess allowed herself a typical gakakaka. “That’s how you deal with his ilk. Turn the tables, make them the prey, and they’ll run away. Well, most of the time. It can backfire every now and then, but hey, then you’ve found someone who appreciates being devoured. Those sorts are always so much fun.”

  “I… don’t think I can do that.”

  “You didn’t think you’d be able to handle a gun, yet after what, a year, you can empty an entire magazine into a bullseye in as many seconds.”

  “That’s different! Guns don’t try to grope me.”

  “Yeah, they just kill people. You’re one strange little girl.”

  “If you say so…”

  Sejit was fast approaching the breaking point. With every passing second, with each word uttered by the mortals crawling about her, their very presence grated on her a little more.

  The PA system crackled to life. “Attention, dinner will be served in just a few minutes. The Marshal requests that the guests of honor please make their way to the head table. All the other guests, please find your way to your assigned tables. Thank you.”

  Excellent!

  There would be more mingling after the dinner, but she dearly needed the respite. A stomach full of meat and wine would replenish her tolerance and prevent any undue incidents.

  Making her way up, she took her seat to the right of Marshal Julian, though her chair was significantly shorter than the others and his had been made that much taller. She didn’t quite appreciate having her knees at stomach level to assuage his ego, though it was likely the media was just as much to blame, if not more so. Photographers were already moving into position.

  Once everyone had taken their places, Marshal Julian stood and struck a fork to the side of his glass several times, spreading a hush through the gardens like a ripple through water.

  “Ladies and Gentleman, I thank each and every one of you for attending this evening,” he said, gesturing wide with his arms, then clapped his hands together, “It has been far too long since we have been able to dine together, to enjoy these luxuries that were once taken for granted. Indeed, were it not for the skills and wherewithal of those present tonight, I have little doubt we would still be mired in ruin and despair. Against the odds of the world bank, of nations who deigned us as needing support, we have not just recovered, but we are on the path to prosperity!”

  He held his arms up as a signal, and as if he were their conductor, applause went up through the tables. As
he lowered his hands, quiet returned.

  “Of course, some have risen so far above the call, have contributed so much to our nation, to our people. It is my honor to formally thank Jasmine Reith!”

  Sejit stood, bringing herself to her full height and gazed across the sea of people. Soon, they’d be hers. She executed a precise, polite bow of her head. “I thank the Marshal for his kind words, but I have done nothing you would not, would it be that you had the same resources.”

  A broad smile behind the words, a round of quiet applause.

  “A question often asked of me is why I have poured such a great deal of money into Yosel, a nation otherwise relegated to the position of “also-ran” in the world. My answer then, as it is now, has always been the same: Because I believe in my homeland.”

  Sejit spread her arms wide and her politician’s smile even further, though she’d have to be careful not to make it too thin, lest it be seen through. Another brief round of hands. The script was flowing along, checking all the boxes. Even the audience was playing their part, despite having never rehearsed.

  “I believe in the foundations of this nation. I believe in the potential of its people. That belief has been vindicated, for already we have recovered. We have grown beyond all expectations set by the rest of the world with no signs of slowing. I believe we will be a power to be considered, a force to be reckoned with in due time. It is my goal—my passion—to see the dream through. I wish to thank everyone here, even if I am unable to personally, for your continued support. Together, we will become strong. Together, we will prosper.”

  And you leeches will become even wealthier.

  Rhetoric and ideals worked on the common folk. Those assembled, however, cared little for such things. But, in a sense, that made them even easier to coerce.

  Her speech ended, she stood at military ease with her hands clasped at her back as she surveyed the crowd and their applause. In particular, the two senior generals were delighted by the crisp precision of her actions and stern bearing. Winning them over to her side would be ideal since the support of the military was vital to her plans once she was head of state. With their pledge her first-line goals could be met in months, if not sooner.