As with all things on Misty, it amused Fortis the odd mixture of simplicity and complexity which characterized the small dining room. While the wood was always the finest quality, the design of things might be entirely rustic. Eating was indeed a peaceful social occasion, but the furniture was not at all like the luxurious dining settings on other planets. It was entirely functional, with mere hints of ceremonial decoration at most. The Johnston clan banner was displayed on one wall, but there was nothing else to indicate who was sponsoring the voyage, unless you spotted the banner fluttering in the top of the sails. The fabrics on the chairs were rather drab moderate gray, as were most such chairs Fortis had seen. The table settings were simple, a mixture of wood and ceramic. However, the food was extraordinary.
Fortis remarked, “So this follows the pattern for mass space travel. When there’s little to do, food makes the voyage.”
“Crews are easier to get and train if they gain at least some advantage for leaving the comforts of home. What little culinary efforts exist on Misty are aimed mostly for ocean travel,” George explained. He turned at the entrance of someone through the side door and stood quickly.
Fortis took it as a signal and rose, too. A man of obvious importance quickly announced, “Please, be seated. I apologize to you all for being late.” Before taking his seat, he stopped near George, who had naturally remained standing to greet him.
“Captain, it’s good to see you again.” He bowed from the shoulders toward the somewhat younger man, then they shook hands. He presented Fortis, who copied the bow. The captain hurried around the table to an empty place in the center. He sat, then George, with Fortis following. He realized this was the usual simple ceremony which opened the working relationship between men of rank, after which very little ceremony was observed again. In this case, the man’s name was immaterial.
“I was just complementing your chef, Captain.” Fortis took a bite with obvious relish.
“I’ll be sure to let her know. My wife seldom disappoints anyone with her cooking.” Then he grinned and winked at George.
Fortis chuckled, then swallowed. “Compact crew.”
“They are all family — literally,” George observed.
Fortis nodded. “I’m beginning to understand how well that works. The sheik’s staff are cousins, nephews, even his own children. The faculty at the academy weren’t all related that closely, but the other staff were always family of someone else there. The rest of the galaxy calls it ‘nepotism,’ but here it’s an essential element of life. It’s marvelously stable, given no one here wears an implant to control any part of their behavior.”
The Captain smiled. “Frankly, we pity you here being so alone.”
Fortis paused, then, “I doubt many of my relatives would be so comfortable, but I consider myself greatly blessed. I also doubt I’ll ever be able to leave, family or not.”
“I take you never married, then?” the Captain inquired.
“No, sir. It simply never presented itself. Perhaps I need a course in romance, too.” He chuckled at the thought, as did the Captain.
George interjected, “Romance in that sense we understand, but all marriages are arranged on Misty. That shouldn’t surprise you. Nor should it surprise you if someone offers you their daughter, sister or other close relative as wife.”
“Indeed,” the Captain agree. “Given the political situation, at least a half-dozen offers will be made during this journey. Several clans are suffering some disadvantage right now, and latching onto your fame and presumed influence would serve them well.”
Fortis blushed. “I have little measure of my influence right now, so ‘presumed’ is the right word.”
“Nor do we know,” the Captain affirmed. “I don’t want to deceive you, Fortis. You are certainly going to need those bodyguards in some places, along with your own fighting skills, such as they may be. For once, I fear for the safety of my crew. This business of restarting interstellar trade is a volatile issue, for more reasons than one.”
Fortis looked at George, hoping to gauge how much he was at liberty to discuss. George saved him the trouble. “The Captain was chosen by the Sheik himself for his wisdom and discretion, along with his expertise in the politics of this planet.” To the Captain, “We have yet to identify the ranger captain who troubled us when I brought Fortis to Johnston Island.”
The Captain nodded, then stared at his plate for a moment, lost in thought.
George went on, “Having such skill with a glider kite, the resources to construct and fuel a small warm air pocket — it all adds up to an extensive organization. It would be hard to imagine they have that much pull with any sheik’s court. We are left wondering if they have managed to construct their own production facilities hidden somewhere.”
“Well, the recruiting will be a great cover. All the more so since it’s also a genuine mission in itself.” The Captain rose, signaling them to stay seated.
Fortis realized the man had eaten rather quickly, even though with good table manners. Glancing around, he decided if anyone overheard, it was the Captain’s choice whom to trust. Then again, George kept saying transparency was the first working assumption. So far, they had only been sneaky on two items — keeping his face hidden in the village and trying to depart quietly before dawn.
“Those who walk in the light have little to hide.” George was intuiting his thoughts, again.
“And I’m altogether uncomfortable with hiding, anyway,” Fortis noted.
“Consider this,” George turned to face him. “The Council of Sheiks already knows more about this than you and I. They all have too much to lose by hiding participation. And again, the biggest threat is not the rogue rangers and their resources. The only real problem there is resource waste which may be costing someone who can’t afford it. Think of it as an illegitimate tax. But the greatest threat is from the ideas long ago rejected by our founders. Democracy is a cancer, based on lies. So is centralized government.”
Fortis understood, having seen it up close. “So when you warned me about leaving and saying something destructive to Misty, you had in mind the concern I might send back someone who would want to bring such ‘enlightened’ ideas here.”
George smiled. “We would gladly allow anyone to depart who felt life could be better under any other system. We hope we can arrange such things.” Then his face showed deep sorrow, “But no one breathing anywhere in human space as any business fixing something here which isn’t broken. Mankind had plenty of time to show off how well it works — and it doesn’t. When we left Terra, it was past time to return to ancient truths. We can’t force the dissenters here to see the light if they refuse to open their eyes, but we also can’t afford to let them spread that darkness to others.”
“So remaining transparent is going to expose the lies.” Fortis believed it, but wanted to see more of it in action, but without seeing too much action of the other kind.
George had that glow, again. “Our Creator is always watching. He can make of this anything which suits His whims. But in general, His promise is to back His own revelation. If we conduct ourselves accordingly on this mission, we have every reason to expect things to go well, even if sometimes harrowing.”
“So we keep our eyes open, but simply stick with the ostensible purpose, and the skulduggery will take care of itself. That’s certainly a lot easier than playing at espionage.” Fortis was feeling better about it.
“Exactly. Those working in darkness will be forced to act, and it will expose them. God will either protect us from harm or take us home to be with Him. Nothing could be simpler.”
Fortis grinned. “At least you didn’t say ‘easy’.”
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