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From: Vulgar Argot <vulgarargotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Secrets of Kings, Chapter 1
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Date: Sat, 17 Jul 2004 20:10:02 -0400
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The Secrets of Kings, Chapter 1
by Vulgar Argot
(tags at bottom to avoid spoilerage)

Thule Roemer was exhausted. He thought he'd known what exhaustion was
last year when he was trying to graduate high school while juggling
two romantic relationships and uncovering a conspiracy that, the more
people dug into it, the bigger it got.

He'd been wrong. Exhaustion was being a small business owner and a
B-List celebrity during finals week at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology.

As such, it was with something other than enthusiasm that he greeted
the sight of a strange woman sprawled out on his bed.

"You're going to want to get up or move over," he said, trying to keep
the irritability out of his voice as much as possible.

The girl opened one eye, then the other, "Who are you?"

"My name is Bart," he said. "But, you can call me Baby Bear. I presume
you are Goldilocks."

Actually, the girl could not have looked less like Goldilocks. She had
classically Chinese features. Currently, they were glaring at Thule in
bland incomprehension. After a second, they softened.

"Oh," she said, sitting up. "You're Frank's roommate."

"I have that dubious honor," said Thule.

"He told me I could crash here," she said.

"How very generous he is to share my things so freely without a
thought for himself," said Thule, his voice deadpan.

She rose, "He told me he had an empty bed in his room because his
roommate never slept here."

Thule sat down on the bed, kicking off his sneakers, "He neglected the
word 'almost' in that sentence. I crash here once or twice a week when
I'm too tired to drive back to where I actually live."

"Hey," the girl said. "You're that guy on TV. What's his name? Thor!"

"That's me," said Thule, too tired to correct her. "God of Thunder."
He lay down and closed his eyes.

"I'm Lin Xiao," said the girl.

"A pleasure to meet you," said Thule without opening his eyes.

"Were you serious?" Lin asked.

Thule opened one eye, "About what?"

"About moving over," said Lin. "I would rather not get in Frank's bed.
He would probably get the wrong impression."

Thule opened his other eye, "If he comes in and sees you in bed with
me, he's definitely going to get the wrong impression."

Lin shrugged, "That impression I don't mind him getting. Frank Rose's
opprobrium doesn't bother me. His lecherous attentions would."

Thule closed his eyes again, "So, what are you doing in his room?"

"I needed a place to sleep," said Lin. "I'm stuck in a triple and my
roommates won't shut up during the day. They believe it is their
God-given right to deprive me of sleep because they sleep at night."

"How do you know you won't give me the wrong impression?" asked Thule.

"Look at you," said Lin. "You're too tired to even get through this
conversation. If you're dangerous, I think MIT has done a fine job of
neutralizing you. Besides, aren't you supposed to be a poster child
for women's rights or something?"

Thule grunted. He was, in fact, the star witness in the trial of a
notorious serial date rapist. As a result, he'd been approached by a
number of national anti-rape organizations to use his likeness for
fundraising purposes and agreed to let a couple of them do so. Of
course, they didn't know that he'd blackmailed one of his current
girlfriends into sleeping with him or handcuffed the other to his
weight bench before they had a relationship. But, they might not have
cared, so long as it wasn't common knowledge. In some things,
appearance was more important than substance.

Besides, Lin had been right about one thing. Thule was much too tired
to even know who was in bed with him. Wanting the conversation to be
over so that he could get to sleep, he said, "Suit yourself."

He didn't know whether Lin took him up on his offer or not before he
was asleep.

                                   -=-
                                   
Thule woke to the sensation of his cell phone vibrating. A quick
glance at the clock told him it was three p.m. He'd gotten four hours
of sleep. It was by no means enough. He had his last two finals
tomorrow and had gotten an average of three hours sleep a night all
week.

He would have ignored it, but a quick glance at the number told him it
was an international call. The country code said it was either his
father or Marigold. As a matter of coincidence, they'd both wound up
in the same country, halfway across the world, working on entirely
different projects.

"Thule," he said, putting the phone to his ear.

"Hey, sweetie," said Marigold. "Did I wake you?"

Thule gave an affirmative grunt.

"I know how much you need your sleep, Thule. But, we need to talk."

Thule started to sit up, but realized there was someone curled up
against him. He had a moment of cognitive dissonance. She was too
small to be Dawn, but Marigold was in Ghana. Still half asleep, he had
only a dim recollection of how she had wound up in his bed.

Still, of the many things MIT had taught him, the sanctity of sleep
was near the top of the list. So, careful not to disturb her, he
asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Nothing's wrong," said Marigold. "At least, nothing new."

Thule waited patiently for her to continue. As much as he wanted to
get another couple hours of sleep, he didn't rush her. Marigold had
seen how badly Thule needed sleep during the first half of the year.
If she was pausing, she must really need to pause.

Thule braced himself for whatever was coming next. The summer before
college, they'd spent nearly every waking moment with each other,
often with Dawn, who they were both seeing. But, Thule had always
considered the relationship precarious. He'd since discovered that
such arrangements were not entirely unprecedented. But, no two people
could seem to agree on what the protocols for such a relationship or
even more complex ones were, except that everything was negotiable.
And, while it had seemed like a good idea in theory, Thule had always
considered the situation precarious at best.

Their first semester at college had been somewhat rocky. It had taken
a while for Marigold to realize just how little time Thule had. MIT
tried very hard to kill its freshmen with workload, hoping that
students who were going to wash out would do it before they were too
old and worn out to go somewhere else. On top of that, Thule had the
trial to deal with and the media circus that surrounded it. That would
have been bad enough. But, after the attacks on the World Trade Center
and Pentagon, Thule had found that his plan for being a more or less
silent owner of a small firm specializing in security services was not
going to work. Suddenly, everybody was thinking about Security and
Thule's name was in the news. He'd originally planned to meet with the
people actually doing the work at the firm on Saturday mornings and
handle the decisions that required his sign-off.

By October, his Saturday morning meetings were stretching to all-day
affairs. Worse, he knew he was rushing some decisions because he just
didn't have time to give them the thought they deserved.

Since then, he'd rearranged his schedule and his staff so that he
could dedicate two hours a day to business matters. Those two-hour
meetings occurred at the house Thule and Marigold were living in,
forcing everyone involved to schlep out to Cambridge from downtown
Boston. 

But, the business had grown, seemingly every day. Their original
office space had been barely enough to hold one hundred people.
Counting field agents, Roemer Security Services employed almost five
hundred men and women, about seventy percent of which needed a desk at
any given time. And, that didn't count the two subsidiaries or the
joint venture with Tarr. Anders Harter, who had been a great FBI
agent, had turned out to be an even better business development
manager. While investigating a completely unrelated deal, he'd come
across a building where every one of the tenants was a struggling
dotcom. By the end of 2001, he'd leased all twelve floors of the
building, either directly from the owner or by buying up a distressed
lease from a bankrupt dotcommer who no longer had any use for the
space.

Even so, the company was again bursting at the seams. When the first
office had become too small, the people who found themselves coming
out to Cambridge every day unofficially set up a sort of satellite
office in the house. There was no reason not to. Twenty people could
have lived there and never interacted. When RSS had moved into what
was now unofficially called the "Roemer Building," the ersatz
satellite office had been shut down. But, as the new building had
filled up, they'd come back one by one. Plenty of the original, vested
employees were putting in sixty hour weeks or more by that point. A
few of them now slept at the house several nights a week. Jake, who
was in the process of a messy divorce, lived there more or less full
time.

When Marigold left for Africa, Thule insisted that RSS pay her
stepfather Jonas, who actually owned the house, a reasonable rent for
the space they used. It wasn't another expense they needed, but
Thule's sense of fairness wouldn't let him keep using the space for
free and, besides, if things between him and Marigold went sour, he
didn't want the company suffering too badly for it.

And now, she was on the phone and needed to talk. He hadn't seen her
in almost six months. She'd dropped hints that there was a possible
romantic link for her there. He hadn't been happy about that, but in
between his having another girlfriend and not having time for either
of them, he hadn't felt like he had much in the way of grounds for
complaint. Besides, Marigold seemed determined to find out if the
palace of wisdom really was at the end of the road of excess and there
wasn't much he could do to stop her.

"Thule," she said finally. "I'm not coming back this week."

Thule felt his stomach drop. "All right," he said. "Are you coming
back at all?"

She laughed, "Of course. Oh God, Thule. I'm not leaving you. It's just
that the work here isn't done yet. The goddamned Pure Food League
convinced the people we were trying to work with that starvation was
preferable to planting genetically modified crops. But, they left
before we were beaten. We've got permission to distribute the seeds in
Burkina-Faso. But, there's so much work to do. I don't think Dr. Anton
can do it without me. I just want to stay until spring. That would be
September."

Thule sighed, "I can't say I'm happy with that. I was really looking
forward to seeing you."

"I know," said Marigold. "I was looking forward to seeing you, too.
But, it will only be until September. And, you said you would still be
busy during the summer."

"Yeah," said Thule, "but I would only be busy. Compared to right now,
busy is a vacation. We would have had hours together each day."

"Thule, this is important to me," said Marigold. "I hope you
understand. I thought I wanted to be a doctor because I wanted to help
people. But, that's one person at a time. This is millions of people
at once and it's literally the difference between life and death."

"I know," said Thule, but he couldn't keep the disappointment out of
his voice.

"Besides," said Marigold. "You'll have Dawn to keep you company. I
imagine she'll be more than a handful for a few hours a day."

Thule shook his head and stroked his brow. Dawn certainly was enough
of a handful to fill more hours in the day than he had. Still, he
could hear a hint of strain in Marigold's voice, not at the mention of
Dawn but on the words "a few hours a day." Thule had been stunned to
realize how much free time Harvard students had. And, while Marigold
rarely bridled at his inability to pay attention to her, Thule was
always a little bit nervous to see what she got up to when left
entirely to her own devices.

Everyone he talked to said that next year would be better. The trial
would be over. The media would have some new darling to harass.
Classes would be less rigorous. It was entirely possible that Marigold
had saved their relationship some irreparable strain by going where
Thule couldn't pay attention to her, even if he'd had the time to do
so. But, he missed her nonetheless.

Every once in a while, Thule wished that he could behave like the
nineteen year-old he was. For instance, right now, he wanted to rail
against the unfairness of a fate that he had actually chosen every
step of the way. Failing that, he at least wanted to pout. Instead, he
said, "When will you be back, then?"

"In time to register for classes," said Marigold. "So, sometime around
the first of September."

The girl curled up next to Thule chose that moment to mutter something
in her sleep. Marigold asked, "Is Dawn there already?"

"No," said Thule. "That's just a squatter who moved into my dorm room
while my back was turned."

"See?" asked Marigold, laughing. "You've found something to keep you
busy already."

Thule scowled, "Believe me. That's the farthest thing from my mind
right now. I just want to survive the next twenty-five hours or so and
then sleep for a week."

Lin raised her head and looked down at Thule quizzically. Pointing at
herself, she mouthed a question. Thule put his hand over the phone.

"Am I causing a problem?" Lin asked.

Thule shook his head, "Not at all. It's just a small
misunderstanding."

Taking his hand off the phone, he said to Marigold, "Are there going
to be phones where you'll be?"

"Part of the time," said Marigold. "We'll be working near the
presidential offices in Accra for the next couple of days. Most
likely, I'll be out of contact most of the time we're in Burkina
Faso."

Thule sighed, "All right. Call me when you have a number you can be
reached at. I'll get back to you some time this weekend."

Marigold laughed again, "I thought you were going to sleep for a
week."

"No," said Thule. "I want to sleep for a week, but I don't think
that's physically possible. Besides, I want to talk to you. I'll set
an alarm for Sunday."

"All right, Thule. I have to get going. We've got a meeting with the
agriculture minister in fifteen minutes. I love you."

"I love you too, Little Flower," said Thule. "Be safe."

When he'd closed the phone, Lin said, "I hope I didn't cause a
problem."

"No problem," said Thule, sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Was that your girlfriend?"

"No," said Thule. "It was my florist. I just really, really like him."

Seeing the scowl on her face, he said, "Sorry. Sleep deprivation makes
me pissy and sarcastic. Yes, that was my girlfriend. She's in Africa,
saving the world."

Opening a cabinet over the room's single, long desk, Thule looked
inside and muttered, "Crap."

"Something wrong?" Lin asked.

"I'm out of Tylenol," said Thule. "It's no big deal. I'm just getting
a headache."

"I can run down and get some," offered Lin. "I need to stretch my legs
and I'm not ready to hit the books again yet."

"Thanks," said Thule, reaching for his wallet. "Would it be too much
to ask you to pick up coffee, too? I need to get back to work."

"Sure," said Lin. "Buy a girl a cup?"

"Of course," said Thule. "Where are my manners?"

As he handed her a twenty, Thule heard Lin's stomach growl
emphatically. He said, "Uh, maybe we should just get something to
eat." Seeing a conflicted look on her face, he added, "My treat."

"Your florist won't mind?" Lin asked.

                                   -=-
                                   
It didn't take long for the conversation to take a turn that all
conversations between MIT freshmen seemed to take.

"I can't remember the last time I wasn't tired," said Thule.

"At least we're almost done," said Lin. "They threw their worst at us
and we're still standing."

"I'm sitting," Thule pointed out. "Standing might be a bit much. Are
you done?"

"One more," said Lin. "Physics. You?"

"Two tomorrow," said Thule. "Physics and calculus."

"Ugh," said Lin. "What a double whammy."

"Not really," said Thule. "I took the calculus as a slough course.
It's a slam dunk. I really haven't learned anything new in it."

"Damn," said Lin. "What high school did you go to?"

"Heh," said Thule. "I didn't learn it in high school. I had a personal
interest in heuristic mathematics and Bayesian analysis."

"Wait a second," said Lin, her eyes widening. "You're Bartholomew
Roemer, aren't you?"

Thule nodded, "Yeah."

"I hate you," Lin said, but she was laughing.

"Why?" asked Thule.

"My math teacher was obsessed with you. He was constantly talking
about how you're this mathematical wunderkind. He made us all try to
get our work published in peer-reviewed journals because of you." She
glared at him mischievously, "You have a lot to answer for, mister."

"Just what I need," Thule deadpanned. "Something else to answer for."

"Wait a second," said Lin again. "You're Bartholomew Roemer, but
you're also that guy on TV. Thor?"

"Thule, actually," he corrected her. "I'm afraid so."

"You're a celebrity."

Thule chuckled, "Yes, but they promise me it's not fatal. I like to
think of it as the fifteen-minute flu."

"You're involved in the Vandevoort trial, aren't you?" she asked. "How
in the hell do you manage it?"

"Like I said, I get very little sleep," answered Thule. "I'm also
juggling a new business in the mix."

Lin let out a low whistle of admiration. Thule didn't know how to
respond. He was saved from having to by his cell phone vibrating in
his pocket again. Seeing it was from Matika, he answered.

"Hey, Thule," said Matika. "I hate to wake you, but..."

"Actually, I'm awake," said Thule. "But, I thought I said I absolutely
could not handle business matters until after tomorrow."

"I know," said Matika. "And Helene threatened to choke me to death
with my phone cord if I called you before then."

"And?" asked Thule.

"I have a cellular phone," said Matika. "Besides, I can take Helene."

Thule sighed, "I presume whatever you called me for must be
important."

"You could say that," offered Matika. "We have a client who insists on
talking to you directly. He really doesn't want to wait."

"He's going to have to," said Thule. "Or he's going to have to talk to
somebody else. Jake has the same haircut I do. Just pretend he's me."

"He's offering fifty thousand dollars for an hour of your time."

Thule let out a deep sigh. RSS's growth had been explosive, but it
also meant that a lot of their assets were still projected. The firm
was heavily leveraged against accounts receivable. Still, he said,
"The earliest I can squeeze him in is Saturday morning."

"Are you sure?"

Thule nodded unnecessarily, "People who throw around that kind of
money are used to getting what they want. It will be a good exercise
for him to learn patience. Besides, any meeting that he's offering
that kind of money for is obviously leading to something big and I
don't want to start a contract by jumping through hoops. It sets a bad
precedent."

"All right," said Matika. "You're the boss."

After Thule had closed his phone, Lin narrowed her eyes at him, "Was
that a real phone call?"

Thule nodded, "Yeah. Why?"

"You're not just trying to impress me?"

Thule shook his head, "God is my witness."

The look of suspicion didn't leave her face, "Do you believe in God?"

Thule laughed and raised his right hand, "I swear on the soul of Paul
Erdos that was a real phone call."

Lin looked thoughtful. Thule was content to watch her eat. Despite her
diminutive stature, she ate more than he did. Besides, conversation
was an effort. Thule wasn't the only person who seemed to think so.
With maybe three hundred people in the dining hall, it was almost
deathly silent.

When they'd finished eating and were walking back towards the dorms,
Lin asked, "Want to study for the physics exam together tonight?"

Even before Thule could answer, she said, "That's not really what I
meant to ask. Listen, I know you have a girlfriend, but would you like
to go out some time?" After she asked the question, she bit her lip.

Thule resisted the urge to laugh. With his name in the headlines, he'd
gotten far more explicit propositions than that from women he'd never
even met. He said, "I'm flattered..."

"I had a boyfriend in San Francisco," said Lin as if he hadn't spoken.
"He was a nice, middle-class kid. I dumped him because he started
dealing drugs. He told me, 'Nobody says no when they wave enough money
in your face.' It's something that's developed into kind of a theme
since then. I told myself that, if I ever found a guy who could say
no, I'd ask him out."

"If it makes any difference," said Thule, "I didn't really say no. I
said, 'Your time is not worth that much more than mine.' I don't know
who this guy is, but I'll lay you good odds he'll wait before he goes
away. I know his sort."

"It doesn't," said Lin. "You also said it would be a good exercise for
him to learn some patience. I don't know what you were being offered,
but you stood up to money and said no."

Thule walked for a bit and didn't say anything while he gathered his
thoughts. He needed more complications like he needed to be ritually
disembowelled, but something about Lin intrigued him.

"Actually," he said. "My girlfriend Marigold is in Africa until
September, but our girlfriend Dawn is coming up to Boston next week."

"You're poly?" Lin asked.

"Not really," said Thule. "I'm just in love with two women at the same
time. But, I'm a duogamous guy at heart."

Lin shrugged, "Ah, well. Can't blame a girl for trying."

As they reached the door of the dorm, Lin said, "I could still use a
study partner for physics if you're up to it."

                                   -=-
                                   
Thule awoke to the sound of a throat being cleared. He ignored it,
hoping against hope that it would go away. A few seconds later, it was
cleared again more emphatically. He knew whose throat it was and had
to restrain the urge to wrap his hands around it.

Waiting until he heard the exaggerated intake of breath that indicated
a third clearing was coming, Thule opened his eyes and said, "You
should really get that looked at. It might be the plague."

"You, me, hallway, now," said Thule's roommate, Frank.

Thule scowled and looked around for what could have his roommate so
upset. It could be virtually anything. Thule used the room an average
of eight hours a week, nearly all of it sleeping. But, Frank seemed to
find something to be annoyed about every time he was here. Sometimes,
he seemed to be saving things up from when Thule wasn't even there.

For all his belligerence, Frank was just about the least threatening
individual Thule had ever met. The first time they'd met, he'd been
scared out of his skin of Thule. To his eternal regret, Thule spent an
inordinate amount of time convincing Frank that, just because he was
built like a jock, it didn't mean he was going to torment his roommate
for sport.

In hindsight, he wished he'd done a little bit less convincing. Once
Frank realized that he wasn't going to be bullied, he'd turned into a
tin-plated dictator. Thule didn't particularly like being pushed
around by the skinny, little nerd. But, in terms of things that were
worth his time, getting into a conflict with him was way down on
Thule's priority list.

The source of Frank's ire seemed readily apparent. At some point,
while studying, Thule had dozed off again. Still lying on his bed, Lin
had apparently done the same. With her head down by his foot, she was
wrapped around Thule's leg.

Thule considered his options at this point. He suspected that any
threat of physical violence would make Frank crumble. But, for some
reason, he didn't want to confirm Frank's low opinion of the
physically fit. They were roommates for another 24 hours or so, but
their disciplines overlapped enough that they were bound to have to
deal with each other again.

Still, he could only take so much. Sitting up, he said, "Frank, if you
would like to talk to me in the hall, I suggest you take a civil
tone."

Then, unbelievably, Frank reached out like he was going to grab the
front of Thule's shirt. Instinctively, Thule caught his wrist and held
it.

"Civil," Thule said quietly. "And, you are never to try to lay a hand
on me again."

When he released Frank's wrist, the other boy rubbed it dramatically
as if Thule had injured him. Shaking with anger, he turned on his heel
and stormed out of the room.

After the door slammed, Thule said, "Well, I could have handled that
better."

Lin yawned, "Well, it wasn't as impressive as standing up to money,
but it was consistent."

"He's waiting outside the door right now," said Thule. "He expects me
to follow."

"I heard stories about him," said Lin. "But, he was relatively nice to
me. Fawning--but nice...in a creepy sort of way."

"If you want to get any sleep tonight, you'll probably have better
luck back at your room. Once he gets in a snit..."

"Yeah..." said Lin rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. "About
that. When I said I had a triple, what I really meant was that I'd
been staying in a room with a friend at the sufferance of her roommate
and sort of wore out my welcome."

Thule rubbed his forehead, "You don't have a room?"

Lin gave an embarrassed smile, "Is there a Plan B?"

Thule shook his head in the negative, but said, "I've got a place in
Cambridge. We can probably rustle you up a bed of your own."

Lin smiled, "And I was just starting to get comfortable with the
sleeping arrangement."

Thule shot her a warning glance. She laughed at him.

                                   -=-
                                   
Thule woke to his cell phone vibrating. Glancing at the clock, he
cursed quietly. The alarm would have gone off in another four minutes.
Fumbling for his phone, he saw it was from Ioke. She was one of the
few social contacts who had his direct number. Until now, she'd never
used it.

"Hey, Ioke," he said quietly. "What's up?"

"Thule, it's Kale," said Ioke's fiance. "Ioke is missing."

Thule sat up fast enough to make himself dizzy, "What?"

"Ioke is missing," said Kale. "I hadn't heard from her in a week.
Neither had her parents. They went to her apartment. Her fish were
dead. I didn't know who to call. Your number was in her phone. I
thought you might be able to help."

"Where are you?" Thule asked.

"New York," said Kale. "I flew out."

"Shit," said Thule. He reached up to run his hand through the long,
straight hair he'd cut off a year ago. "Kale, as much as I want to
help, I have people that work for me who are much better at this. I'm
going to tell one of them to call you in the next five minutes or so.
I have my last two finals today. I'll follow up on this tonight. I
promise. Are you sure she's not just on vacation or something."

"No," said Kale. "She was kidnapped. And, I know by who."

"Okay," said Thule grimly. Already, his mind was racing to think who
would have kidnapped Ioke. Her family was well off, but not rich
enough to make kidnapping likely. She was, simply put, one of the
nicest people Thule had ever met. The idea of her having enemies
seemed absurd. And, while Thule had once had a world-class crush on
her, he'd told very few people about it. Still, his stomach sank at
the idea that it would be someone trying to get at him through her.
With Jonas's help, he'd arranged for a certain amount of discreet
security for both Marigold and Dawn. But, it had never occurred to him
that Ioke would be in danger. "Who did it?"

"Sean Medeforte," said Kale.

Thule reached for his pants, "Who?"

"I don't know," said Kale. "But, she's got some weird paperwork here
from him."

"Weird paperwork?"

"Yeah...It's going to take some explaining. Do you have time?"

Thule sighed, "Not really. My calculus final starts in twenty-five
minutes."

"All right," said Kale. "I'm sorry to..."

"Don't be," said Thule. "Ioke's been a friend of mine for a long time.
I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Thanks, Thule," said Kale. "That means a lot."

"All right," said Thule. "Keep her phone on you. You'll be getting a
call as soon as I can explain what's going on to Anders."

Thule managed to get dressed while holding his phone to his ear. On
the other end, Anders Harter listened quietly. Then, he said, "This is
going to have to go to Bonderman. Is it a corporate expense?"

"No," said Thule. "Have them bill it to me directly. I'll take care of
it."

"I could probably find a business justification..." said Anders.

"We've already got a lot of resentment at Bonderman without using
their services for personal matters and not paying for them. Just bill
me."

"You're the boss," said Anders. "Speaking of which, your dick-waving
seems to have worked. Medeforte agreed to meet you tomorrow at ten
thirty. Want it to be here or at the house in Cambridge?"

"The house in Cambridge," said Thule. "I...Wait. What's the client's
name?"

"Sean Medeforte," said Anders. "He's a big international finance
wunderkind. Why?"

"That's who Kale thinks kidnapped Ioke," said Thule. "Did he say why
he wanted to meet with me?"

"A matter of some delicacy," said Anders. "His secretary wasn't real
forthcoming."

"Shit," said Thule. "All right. I'll meet him here tomorrow at one.
But, I want security on the grounds. And I want it to be really
blatant--uniforms and everything."

"You've got it," said Anders.

                                   -=-
                                   
Thule managed to get through his calculus final, but he couldn't let
go of the thought: What kind of kidnapping required you to fill out
paperwork first?

                                   -=-
                                   
Waiting outside the building where the physics finals were being
given, Thule ran into his roommate, Frank.

"What the hell is your game, Roemer?" Frank demanded.

"If I had time, I'd like to take up poker...and maybe golf," Thule
answered.

"That little blonde bimbo isn't enough for you?" asked Frank. "I had a
shot at the hottest girl I've ever met and you steal her?"

Thule considered all the things wrong with the accusation, but didn't
bother to catalog them. He could see that Frank was beyond reasoning
with. So, he said, "Try not to blow a gasket, Frank. You've got one
more final to get through. If you want to talk about this after..."

Frank was shouting now, flecks of spittle coming off his lips, "You
will rue this day, Roemer. I swear you will." He turned and stormed
away. But, since he was taking a final in the same building, he could
only storm as far as the end of the line.

"Who the hell uses the word 'rue?'" asked Lin. "I thought they made it
up for soap operas."

"Were you here for all of that?" asked Thule.

"I was about six steps behind him," said Lin. "I was going to try to
talk to him."

"More power to you," said Thule. "I don't think he's ready to listen,
though."

"I think you're right," said Lin. "I don't think a guy's ever called
me the hottest he's ever met before, though."

Thule grunted noncommittally.

"He's wrong, though," Lin went on. "He never had a shot."

Thule's mind kept wandering during the exam. When he got it back, he
would find two easy mistakes. But, he passed. And, as a freshman at
MIT, that was all that mattered.

                                   -=-
                                   
"Is there any chance I could continue to impose on your hospitality
for the weekend?" Lin asked. "I was supposed to look at rooms for rent
today, but I'm just not up to it."

"Sure," said Thule. "However, I should mention that people work in
that house. So, it's not always quiet."

"I noticed," said Lin. "But, I never heard them where I was sleeping.
Besides, there could have been a tuba quartet in that room and I
wouldn't have noticed."

"Fine, then," said Thule. When Marigold had been there, she'd always
seemed to have three or four people staying at the house. Thule hadn't
had such long-term guests, but he'd often let people crash after an
all-night study session had left them too tired to go home.

Thule called Kale on Ioke's cell phone, but got only voice mail. He
left a message to call back whenever Kale got the message.

When they got to the house, Thule saw a car he recognized in the
driveway. At the door, he was met by a pair of uniformed security
officers.

"Hey, Jerry," he said. "This is Lin Xiao. Make sure she's added to the
list of authorized guests. Also, add Kale...Shit. I don't know Kale's
last name. Just list him as 'Kale, the Man-Mountain.'"

"Yes, sir," said Jerry. "For how long?"

"As long as they need," said Thule. "How long has Dawn been here?"

"About forty-five minutes."

"Thanks," said Thule. "I'm going to get some sleep. Leave word that
I'm to be awakened immediately if Kale calls or there's any progress
on the Ioke matter. Anything else can wait."

"You got it, sir."

"How's your wife, Jerry?"

Jerry smiled, "About ready to burst. If she doesn't drop by Wednesday,
they're going to induce labor."

"We have a standard security detail?"

"Yes, sir."

"Jerry, do you remember when your son, Andrew, broke his arm and you
stayed on for an hour and fifteen minutes waiting for your
replacement?"

"Err, yes sir."

"If your wife goes into labor, you're to go to the hospital. This
detail is just a formality. Eleven armed guys in uniform will make the
same impression as twelve."

"Yes, sir," said Jerry, grinning. "Thanks, Thule."

Thule nodded, "Let me know when you're a dad again. All right?"

"Will do."

Lin asked, "Do you always have this much security?"

"Not at all," Thule reassured her. "I just have a meeting tomorrow
that may require a show of force."

Lin looked alarmed, "Anything I should worry about?"

"No," said Thule. "I don't think so. It's the money guy. He agreed to
meet with me tomorrow."

"Just like you said."

Thule nodded, "Can you find your way back to your room?"

Lin hugged him, "Absolutely. Thanks so much, Thule."

Practically ready to collapse, Thule made his way to the part of the
house he jokingly referred to as the residential wing. Once he passed
beyond a pair of double doors, everything beyond was his, Marigold's,
and Dawn's private rooms. The area was slightly larger than his house
back in Mannsborough. No matter how many people were staying in the
house, it was still possible to feel like the three of them lived
alone--except that the three of them had been there together only
once, the week of Christmas.

He found Dawn's suitcases stacked in her bedroom unopened. Dawn he
found curled up on his bed dressed in blue jeans and a Boston College
t-shirt. Her hair, which she'd been letting grow, spread out like a
cloud on the pillow. Leaning down, he kissed the side of her neck.

"Mmmmm," said Dawn. "That's nice. But, you'd better hide. My
boyfriend's going to be here soon and he's big and scary." Rolling
onto her back, she smiled up at Thule. "How did your tests go?"

"Exhausting," said Thule. "And I've got a million things to do this
weekend. But, right now, I intend to sleep for as long as humanly
possible."

"Sounds good to me," said Dawn. "I know it's not comparable, but
traffic was awful. It took me eight hours to drive up here. I'm beat."

Thule kicked off his shoes and lay down next to her, "I thought you
were spending a week with Scott before you came up here."

"That was the plan," said Dawn. "But, he went and got himself a
girlfriend."

Thule hugged her to his side, "Oh, Wildcat. I'm sorry. I know you were
looking forward to seeing him."

Dawn kissed his neck, "I was, but it's definitely simpler this way. I
was going to tell him this week that I was...I don't know what I was
going to tell him. But, it was time for things to go back to the way
they were before he and I were sleeping together."

"Still," said Thule. "It sucks to be beaten to the punch."

"Oh," said Dawn. "I wouldn't worry about that. I'm still going to
punch him."

Thule laughed and kissed her on the mouth. Dawn's lips parted for the
kiss to deepen. Even as he kissed her, Thule could feel the drag of
sleep. When Dawn's hands went to his shirt, he said, "Wildcat, I am
really tired."

"I know," Dawn said. "I just want to lay my head on your chest and the
buttons keep poking my cheek."

"All right," said Thule. "But, if you're planning to take advantage of
me, try not to wake me, please."

Thule fell asleep before she'd gotten to the last button.

The Secrets of Kings, Chapter 1
by Vulgar Argot
(rom, MF, nosex)

--Vulgar Argot
  http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?id=2020
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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