Octavia Girl

Chapter Fourteen

People Who Don’t Like Jenna

Jenna had to meet with the doctor who was treating Rennett. His name was Arc Lawson and he was the sort of person Jenna never got along with. Which meant, he talked a lot without a lot of meaningful communication in his dialogue. His intent while talking seemed to be to keep Jenna in the room for as long as he could without telling her what she had come to discover.

They were in the Waterfall Palace, where Jenna was allowing Rennett to live, even though he hadn’t been crowned yet. She was trying to gauge whether or not it made sense to crown Rennett at all since his health was failing rapidly. How soon was he going to die?

Arc was not answering her questions quickly enough.

Finally, she’d had enough. “He was the candidate provided by the AAMC. Is his health good enough for me to crown him or will he not be able to perform any of his duties ever?”

“Well, it all depends on how well he takes care of himself. If he eats well…” the doctor hedged. It seemed he was going to continue explaining how to take care of a patient with poor heart health, but Jenna cut him off, hoping for a more direct answer.

“What is your medical opinion? Will he be well enough soon?”

The doctor pushed his glasses into his face so that the frames touched his eyebrows. “I can’t really say what he’s capable of.”

“Let’s get Admiral Lou Denver on the line and you can give him your professional opinion,” Jenna volunteered, getting Ixy to make the call.

The Admiral was not delighted with the timing of Jenna’s transmission and stared at the screen in a lesser version of his uniform. “Miss Fairchild,” he said, unimpressed. “This better be important. I have other things to do rather than meet with you at your whim.”

“Yes, I understand that. This is Doctor Arc Lawson. He’s here to talk to you about the suitability of your candidate.” She moved aside to give the doctor room on the screen.

“Uh…” the doctor said, getting more flustered by the second. “It’s an honor to be talking to you in person.”

Jenna glared at him. He’d obviously already spoken to the Admiral and the Admiral had already told the doctor what he wanted him to say… which was nothing. He was supposed to stall for as long as he could.

Jenna listened to them exchange more of what she’d already heard from Arc. That Rennett may or may not be a proper candidate. It all depended on how his rehabilitation went over the next few weeks.

Jenna scowled. Even though she had given in so much by allowing a crown to go to Iker (one of the terrible AAMC majors who had broken into her bedroom the night Sardius went dark), the Admiral was still going to do everything he could to stall the negotiations.

“Should I crown him or not?” she blurted in the middle of Arc’s weak explanations.

The Admiral took on a patronizing demeanor that suited his pink face and encouraged her to be patient. “Just wait a few weeks and we’ll see where he’s at then.”

“How many weeks?” she demanded.

“Three to six weeks,” the doctor replied.

She glared at both of them. “Thank you for your time and advice. I shall be sure to follow it to the letter,” she said to the Admiral before signing off.

Without saying anything further to the doctor, Jenna stormed out of the room. Footsteps assured her that he was following her.

“When can I schedule his next checkup?” he called in a voice that was almost mocking as Jenna left the palace and stood on the deck.

By then, the walk had helped Jenna regain some of her composure and blow off some of her adrenaline. To be more specific, she looked more calm on the outside but felt as frigid as Death himself on the inside. The doctor was still behind her and waiting for her reply.

Jenna turned to him, put an innocent look on her face, and prepared to be a thousand times eviler than the poor doctor expected. “Dear, Doctor Lawson, your care for him during this troubled time is so appreciated.”

The doctor launched into another lengthy narrative explaining things he had already said before, but Jenna refrained from telling him he had already said some things three times and this was the fourth. Instead, she looked up at him with her defenseless woman’s eyes.

Then she bit her lip and said gently. “You’re such a caring doctor. I want you to always have the ability to treat him. You live on the seaside, don’t you? Why don’t I move his palace so that it is docked outside your house?”

The doctor sputtered. That hadn’t been what his dialogue intended and he thought it would be convenient to come to the cluster of floating palaces whenever Rennett needed something. But he was the sort of man who didn’t realize that most women phrased commands as questions.

Jenna continued like she hadn’t heard him. “If he’s just outside your house, you’ll be able to keep a very vigilant eye on him at all times. Nothing will happen to your patient without your full knowledge. And all the responsibility for his care will rest squarely on your shoulders.” She patronized him further by looking at his shoulders like they were capable of far more than just managing Rennett’s care.

“B-but…” he stuttered.

“You were a doctor recommended by my colleague, Philip, but you obviously have the endorsement of the Admiral as well, don’t you? From that conversation, he has all the confidence in the world in you. I’m sure you’ll be able to take care of everything to everyone’s satisfaction.”

The man looked horrified as Jenna patched him through to Ixy who explained that there was no reason to call for a transport. The Waterfall Palace would move by itself to take him home. Arc’s face grew paler with every added detail.

He said everything except the words, ‘I was asked to be a spy for the Admiral and if I have the patient at my home, I can’t spy on you!’

If he had said that, he would have gotten a lot further with Jenna. Instead, he said everything else, like a child stacking sand on a marble hoping that if he stacked enough sand on top, everyone would see the sand heap and no one would know the marble under it all. His excuses sounded childish and Jenna had had enough of him.

Jenna stepped off the gangway of the Waterfall Palace and waved to him in a way that would have been pleasant and friendly if she hadn’t already proven herself to be the Devil. “Thank you for everything!”

“But, Madam Diplomat,’ he stuttered, trying to run after her, but now an ever-widening stretch of ocean was between them. He couldn’t chase her.

Dr. Arc Lawson definitely did not want General Rennett docked outside his home. He did not want to check up on him every hour of every day or have his health be his top priority.

Jenna was happy to toss everything in Arc’s lying, stalling, cheap, sell-out hands. Jenna herself didn’t know if Rennett was well enough to be crowned. At first, she thought it didn’t matter. Sardius said she should crown him whether he was well or not and if he died, she could just crown whoever she wanted afterward. It turned out that his living was the problem.

She was going to have to renege on her deal with Fallcet. She promised him three seats to the AAMC, but the AAMC was no longer sending her candidates and she couldn’t crown Rennett the way things were, especially when Admiral Denver had told her to wait and be patient.

She needed another candidate. To get eight, she needed to crown someone else rapidly, but crowning her next choice, Phane, posed all kinds of problems.

Looking around as she crossed a floating palace and came on board another, she reflected on how much had changed since she first came to Octavia Prime. She passed the Lotus Palace. That was where Scion lived. To Jenna’s surprise and relief, he had done everything they had agreed upon with flying colors. He redid his interviews with Celestina and brought his approval rating up, speaking up for the program and extolling the virtues of cooperation in the universe. He claimed he adored Jenna and did so so convincingly that she wasn’t sure if he was lying. He seemed legit, which worried her a little.

Rold, Scion’s father, had chosen a first wife for his son and she was being delivered in a few months. She was a daughter of an AAMC commander and the intention of the union was to strengthen his bond with the AAMC.

Scion’s face briefly twisted as he spoke of it as part of his interviews.

Jenna longed to ask him what that was about but refrained. That twist in his face meant something… something no one had any business asking about.

Regardless of Jenna’s hesitation, it was a union to be publicly celebrated, and so Celestina had her hands full preparing for it. Scion had opened their filming to a whole new demographic of people who loved the AAMC and wanted to see what their next moves might be. That meant Celestina’s ratings were up.

The next palace Jenna passed was the Rainmaker Palace. She had given it to Iker. He had not arrived yet, but the palace had been docked next to Scion’s in preparation for his arrival. Jenna could see the temporary staff Sardius had hired hard at work cleaning it.

Across the gap created by the removal of the Waterfall Palace, Jenna could see the Salt Palace (she was saving it for Phane). She had brought it back after Lucy and Armen departed. It was right beside the Stone Palace, where Excelyn and Philip lived.

Jenna stepped onto Celestina’s Sun Palace dock and moved to get to her own palace when she saw Sardius coming toward her.

“I don’t know how much longer I can live like this,” she confessed under her breath when he arrived. He looked so good with broad shoulders, his shirt hugging his torso, his stride thick with purpose. She licked her lips. He looked like chocolate on ice cream, with cherries and nuts and salted caramel and shaved gold.

She was clearly going insane.

When he got closer, she said to him, “If you’re in charge of security, can’t you arrange for a place where you and I can be alone for a minute?”

He winked at her and matched her pace as they walked toward the Dahlia Palace. “I’d like that too, but I’d hate it if a fleet of angry aliens arrived to get revenge on me before you’ve reached quorum. That would be a shame.”

Did that mean he was planning on leaving when she got her eight diplomats? She didn’t dare ask him.

“Yes, it would be,” she agreed, letting her gaze downward.

He shook his head. “No. You need to look available. Can’t you see how many bonus boxes your availability is helping you open? You’re not selling these guys diplomacy, you’re selling them what you are. Hey, wanna be like me?” he said, doing a mock impression of her.

Jenna stuck her nose in the air. “I’m not like that, but aside from Fallcet being stupid, none of these other guys are keen on me.”

“It’s not that they’ve got the hots for you. It’s that they want to be like you. They want your shine and polish, and part of that is being in close enough proximity for you to sprinkle some of your glitter on them.”

“Well, Rennett isn’t going to get any of my polish. I just sent his ass…I mean… his palace away.”

“Where did you send it?”

“Beside Dr. Arc Lawson’s house.”

Sardius stopped. “You’re not going to crown him, are you?”

“Probably not. It’s okay. I’ve got a few other options.”

“If Iker can get here in a reasonable time,” Sardius said.

Jenna agreed. “That reminds me. Where the hell is Iker? I thought he was supposed to be here already.”

“He’s supposed to be arriving the day after tomorrow. The AAMC swears up and down that his delay was not intentional, but just a sad collection of mismanagements.”

Jenna ruffled her hair. “They just make themselves sound incompetent with excuses like that. It’s particularly yucky because they’re trying to gum us up. I take it you got him on board an Octavian ship?”

Sardius nodded. “Eventually. They’re faster and less annoying. Temptic is monitoring it himself. Oh, and Jenna, there is one more tiny, crucial, thing,” Sardius said, holding her back. “Dr. Brazel Russell is waiting for you in the great hall of the Dahlia Palace.”

Jenna’s face brightened. She needed Philip’s mother, Brazel, to do the surgery on Phane so he could join them on Octavia Prime.

“Is she?” Jenna asked cheerfully. “Did you talk to her? Was she delighted with the gift?”

“I didn’t see her. Vash invited her in, knowing that you wanted to see her whenever she showed up. I don’t know if it went well. Vash told me she came bearing a large box with Misha’s logo on it, so I’m thinking she didn’t like the dress as much as we would have hoped. He thought came to return it.”

Jenna blew a bit of her hair out of her face and charged into her palace. With a swish of her skirt and a bob of her head, she entered the great hall. With a hundred-watt smile, she greeted Philip’s mother.

“Good day, Dr. Russell. I’m so pleased you could visit me today. How was your journey to the floating palaces?”

“I hope I won’t be leaving with one of them,” she commented dryly.

Jenna dropped her smile 50 watts. “Did you see Dr. Lawson leaving via palace on your way in?”

“Yes,” the older woman said without elaboration.

Jenna had been taught what to expect when she met her. Brazel was a master cosmetic surgeon and even though she was 60, she looked like she was 30 without any of the hangups of too much plastic surgery. Her mouth wasn’t stretched too wide, the corners of her eyes didn’t tilt upwards, and every part of her face was mobile and not a little bit frozen.

Otherwise, she was Philip’s mother. She had pitch-black wavy hair, olive skin, and flashing green eyes. The dress Misha had made for her would have made her look ravishing. What had been the problem? But Jenna didn’t ask, even though she saw the box sitting on a table by the door.

“Might I invite you to sit down?” Jenna crossed the room and led the way to a cluster of chairs and sofas.

Brezel didn’t move. Instead, she had eyes only for Sardius, looking him up and down and then up and down again.

“Is my bodyguard of particular interest?” Jenna asked, feeling mildly territorial.

Sardius looked at the doctor while she looked back at him, not really looking at his face, but more at his neck. “I shouldn’t,” she muttered under her breath. “I really shouldn’t.” But in direct opposition to what she didn’t want to do, she stepped closer to him and looked at him even closer. “May I look at him?” she finally asked Jenna, even though it seemed like she was asking after the fact. Hadn’t she already looked at him?

Sardius lolled his head toward Jenna. “I know what she’s doing. I don’t mind if she does it.”

Brazel clicked open her handbag and pulled out a bottle of what looked like hand sanitizer, which she sprayed onto her palms before she worked it down to her fingers.

Jenna joined them by the front door. “What’s going on?”

“She’s looking at my cosmetic surgery scars,” he replied with an eyebrow waggle.

Brazel grabbed him by the chin and was openly looking at lines Jenna hadn’t even noticed.

“Yeah,” Sardius admitted as Brazel opened his mouth and started looking inside.

“He’s had more surgery on his face than anyone I’ve ever seen before. How many times have you had your face redone?” She let go of his chin so he could answer her.

“Maybe twelve?” he answered.

“More like sixteen. What have you been doing with your life that you needed that much surgery? How old are you? All your teeth have been traded out. How many times have you done that?”

Sardius bit down. “This is my third set of teeth.”

Jenna groaned. “Is that how many times you’ve had all your teeth knocked out?”

“Well, yeah. At first, I lost too many because they were pulled out when I was being tortured. After that, the dentist thought I’d do better to have the rest pulled and have them replaced with implants. Those were broken out during fights. Not prize fighting, but revolutionary fighting. That was the first thing I paid for with my prize fighting money. I spent the rest on body enhancements.”

Jenna felt a little weird, but she refrained from saying anything.

“Mind if I see under your arms?” Brazel asked, pulling out a pair of glasses that looked more like twin magnifying glasses than reading glasses.

“It’s only if Jenna says it’s okay,” he said, turning to Jenna for her guidance.

“Wait…” Jenna said. “Why do you want to look at him in the first place? He isn’t the gentleman I want you to work on.”

“I know. I apologize,” the doctor hummed. “Lately, I have been studying the effects of multiple surgeries and their ramifications. I wouldn’t have noticed how many surgeries this man has had, except that I was looking at case studies this morning. He’s been cut open and replaced many, many times. I intended to come and tell you, Jenna Fairchild, that I do not approve of what you did to meddle in the life of my son. I did not open the gift you sent me. I don’t want to help you with anything…” She trailed off and began looking at Sardius again. Forgetting herself completely, she took his hand in hers, flipped it over as if she were reading his palm, and began to trace invisible lines down his forearm.

“Maybe we could come to an arrangement,” Jenna said slowly.

“How many times have you had your whole muscular system replaced?” she asked, staring up at him with a too-large gaze because of her glasses.

“Five times,” he said.

“Have you had other things replaced as well besides your face, teeth, and muscle groupings?”

He nodded.

She took off her glasses. “Do you consider yourself to be still yourself since you’ve had so much of yourself replaced with other parts that are not you?”

“When I take other body parts, I claim them as mine while the parts of me that are discarded cease to be me once they’re cut free,” he explained rationally.

“Is that your real face?”

He chuckled. “Of course not!”

“All right. I phrased that badly. Is that what you looked like before you started getting banged up and having to have your face replaced?”

“Not exactly. It’s close. It’s what I should have looked like.”

“How old are you?” she asked, firing questions off left and right.

“I don’t remember,” he said, matching her grit. “I’ve passed through too many star systems and lived in too many strange places to keep something that trivial straight. Without the teeth I was born with, it’s really hard to tell.”

“It wouldn’t be if I had my tools to look properly in your eyes and ears…” she paused again. “Your eyes are false.” She grabbed his cheek and pulled one of his eyes more open.

Jenna saw the red edging he told her about. That was his real eye.

“Take out your lens,” the doctor ordered thoughtlessly. She was completely and inappropriately in doctor mode.

Sardius pulled his face out of her grasp. “No. You didn’t come here to give me a checkup.”

Brazel took her glasses off. “Indeed. I came here to tell off Jenna Fairchild and I still haven’t…” She suddenly grabbed Sardius’ ear in an iron fist and looked directly into it with her magnifying glasses hanging from her fingers. “You’re young. You’ve just had the crap kicked out of you for decades.”

“What’s your definition of young?” he replied before pulling his head free.

“You’re young enough to be my son,” she replied. “If you were my son, I’d be sick right here and now. Because even though I have performed multiple surgeries on him to keep him looking slick and beautiful, I would never have allowed him to undergo this many. How many times have you had your face bashed in?”

“A fair few. I imagine there will be more.”

“Are you looking for any improvements? You clearly had someone talented working on you, but I can see at a glance that I’m better. They cheaped out on your neck and… I still want to see under your arm.”

“You can’t work on him,” Jenna interjected, putting her foot down.

“Why not?” Brazel asked with wide eyes.

Jenna crossed her arms. “Because he’s mine and I’m not giving him to you without your help with my other man. I need you to do the surgery on him yourself or give another doctor authorization.”

Brazel clicked her tongue ten times in rapid succession. “Tut, tut, tut. That man, Phane, has never been worked on. We’d be lucky if it ended up being only eight surgeries. He’s not young and his skeleton is as brittle as tile. It’s risky and I don’t want to do you a favor. I want you to apologize to me for what you did to my son.”

“I’m sorry. Did I make your son marry Excelyn the first time?” Jenna said without remorse. “Cause I know I didn’t make him marry her the second time.”

Philip’s mother frowned and accused, “You provided the opportunity for them to reconcile.”

“I did not. They were meeting that night anyway because of Philip’s stipulation in their divorce. He wanted to see her once a year, every year, for the rest of their lives. I did not make them do that either. I did not play a meaningful role in their revived romance and I will not let you pin it on me. Do you want Octavian and Adamis talks to be stalled?”

Brazel clenched her teeth and put her glasses back in her purse, but said nothing.

Jenna went on. “I don’t need you to do the surgery on Phane personally. I just need you to sign a document permitting me to get another surgeon to do the work he needs in Octavian air space.”

Ixy put a copy of the document up on the screen by the sofas.

Jenna pointed to it. “Unless you have a major objection to Octavian diplomacy, I suggest you sign it.”

“What will you do to me if I don’t?” Brazel asked with half a snort.

Jenna went through the options in her head, feeling that it was not a wise idea to say any of them. She could request to have Brazel’s permit to practice medicine revoked. That was a terrible idea considering that she was an Adamis doctor. It seemed like an act of aggression against the Adamis medical personnel on Octavia Prime, which Jenna did not want to be the origin of.

There were plenty of other things Jenna could do that could sweep the rug out from under Brazel. She could have the law changed, so she didn’t need Brazel’s approval for the surgery. She could have her citizenship revoked. She could cook up a scandal about her and let it loose, but none of those things would make Philip happy. By extension, none of those things would make Excelyn happy, even if she did not enjoy her mother-in-law one bit.

She resorted to returning to plan A.

Jenna crossed the room and picked up the parcel with Misha’s seal on it. She pulled at the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a dress the color of midnight navy. Jenna took it by the shoulders and lifted it out of the box. The shine of the luxurious material filled the room as Jenna held it up against herself.

“Well, whether you sign the permission form or not, you returned my gift,” Jenna said, flaunting the fabric. “Ryatt, where could I wear a dress like this?”

Sardius cleared his throat. “A hospital fundraiser.”

Jenna looked between him and his cut forearms and Brazel and her sudden interest. “That’s what Misha thought when she made this dress for you, Brazel, but I understand if you don’t want it. You’re a doctor and rich as a witch. I understand if something like this is below your notice. It was only meant as a token of friendship and you’ve refused it. I suppose I could wear it to a hospital fundraiser. Do you think it would get people to come and open their wallets?”

“Put that dress back in the box,” Brazel commanded.

Jenna smirked. She’d got her.

“Come and sit with me on the couch and tell me about Philip,” the doctor said, taking a seat on the couch. “Were you really not involved?”

Jenna did as she was commanded because Brazel had that tone and she was old enough to be Jenna’s mother. From the sofa, Jenna said, “I was not even aware that your son and Excelyn had been married. I was recruiting him regardless because of his personal excellence as a traditionally practicing doctor and I thought he would provide a different voice to balance Excelyn’s.”

Brazel nodded, but she did not believe Jenna until Ixy brought up the research material Jenna had analyzed before offering Philip a crown. Once she had seen everything Jenna had read (she went through it quickly because she was aware of what had been written about her son), she leaned forward and said without pretense, “Now, tell me about Phane. Who is he and why is he so important?”

Jenna sucked a breath in. “He’s a starship pilot and the very opposite of an AAMC man.”

“I see,” the doctor said. “I’ve seen some of the footage Celestina has released lately and you have been forced to accommodate three of their goons.”

“It’s actually four. I have been forced to accommodate four of their goons. However, I might be able to squeeze this guy in if I can crown him before I have to crown General Rennett. It’s on the rocks as to whether or not I’ll be able to offer him a position as a diplomat. However, Captain Phane is vital to protecting Octavia against an Adamis invasion.”

“You’re going to put his life in danger. The AAMC men won’t stand for a man like him making comments alongside theirs. They like to control the narrative, which is one of the reasons they don’t like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had multiple meetings with him and I’m very fond of the perspective he brings. I want to crown him badly.”

Brazel looked at Phane’s medical charts. “If I did the surgery on him, it would be as though the god of gravity had touched him. I’m very skilled at what I do, but he might need longer to recuperate than Rennett. I can’t guarantee that he’ll be ready to crown in time. You must be aware of this.”

“I need to crown more than eight diplomats regardless of the timeline. Don’t worry about when he’s ready. Will you do it?”

Brezel nodded slowly. “But I have conditions.”

“Name them.”

“First, I want to be able to do the first four surgeries in orbit before we bring him down. I will need someone like Favel to arrange that for me. I don’t have good enough connections, as that is not normally how it is done. Normally, the people we work on are people like your bodyguard who have spent time on the surface of a planet and then lost all their muscle mass traveling through space. They know what surface gravity is like and they just need their muscles to respond to it. Phane isn’t like that. He’s never lived on the surface of a world. He needs time to adjust.”

“I’ll see if I can accommodate you,” Jenna said, loath not to give her consent immediately, but she really did need to see if that was plausible before agreeing.

“Secondly, I would like to work on your bodyguard. Ryatt? Is that his name? I’d like to work on him as part of the research I’m doing. Finding another person with as many scar lines as him is nearly impossible.”

Jenna hesitated. She didn’t like the idea of Sardius getting cut even one more time.

“I’ll do it,” he said easily. “I could probably use the tune-up anyway. And some feet.”

“Shut up,” Jenna said to him without ceremony before she turned back to Brazel. Then she did a double-take, having finally registered what he said. “Did you just say that you don’t have feet?”

“Yeah, I lost my feet ages ago. That’s why I almost always wear boots,” he said, ruffling his own hair like he was a scampy kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and not like he was an amputee.

Jenna stared at him. That was why the Fallcet’s boys hadn’t removed his super-all-utility boots. They couldn’t get them off because they were his feet. Jenna stared at him a little longer. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

He crossed his arms. “No one cares if a man has feet or not, as long as he’s got his—”

“Hush up!” Jenna hissed, interrupting what was surely going to be something she’d rather he didn’t say in front of Brazel. She took a few cleansing breaths and was grateful that she’d cooked up something softer to say instead of ‘shut up’. She turned back to Brazel, having regained her composure. “Do you have any other requests?”

“None,” she said, stifling a smile.

“I’ll have to take my time and consider your offer,” Jenna said smoothly.

The doctor nodded. “Of course. I’ll look forward to hearing from you about the orbital surgeries. Lastly, I’m taking that dress with me and I’m leaving now.”

Jenna agreed.