Chapter 7
1150 Words
CHAPTER 7
King Carrodias’s throne room was sparsely decorated. A long, purple carpet with a golden trim led to the throne, and banners with the kingdom crest hung from the vaulted ceiling. The green throne sat on a raised pedestal with an asparagus guard standing on either side.
King Carrodias took his seat, followed by the Cabinet, who sat in ornate wooden chairs that flanked the throne. Lady Duxelle stood at the edge of the pedestal and motioned to the guards at the entrance.
“Bring in the Gourman,” she said.
The guards left, and everyone waited impatiently until they returned, pushing the stranger ahead of them.
The Gourman was a milkshake wearing a lab coat and glasses. His eyes were sad, and the expression on his face reminded Lady Duxelle of a fish. His yellow-and-white insides frothed as he walked, and his presence made the room smell like bananas.
Lady Duxelle placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. She hadn’t expected this nerdy, scientist-like Gourman. She had expected a silent-but-deadly Gourman, like the mysterious hotdog she had heard so many rumors about. But scientist or not, this Gourman still made her nervous.
The milkshake walked in silence as everyone stared at him. He wrung his hands together and stopped when the guards motioned, standing just before the pedestal. He looked around the throne room at each of the Cabinet members and swallowed hard when he settled on King Carrodias, who stared back at him as if he were an alien.
A moment of silence passed. When the Gourman still didn’t say anything, Lady Duxelle yelled, “You are in the presence of His Majesty of the Vegetable Kingdom, Daucus Carrodias IX. Show respect!”
The Gourman jumped at Lady Duxelle’s voice and bowed in a quick, jerky way.
“Erhm, I—my apologies.”
“My apologies, my lady, is the correct response,” Lady Duxelle said. She drew her sword. “State your business. Now.”
The Gourman began to sweat.
“I’m getting impatient,” Lady Duxelle said. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
“That is enough, Lady Duxelle,” the king said. “Gourman, please answer the questions.”
The scientist put his hand on his chest and said, “Your Majesty, my name is Dr. Geoffrey B. Foster. Until this morning, I was the chief food scientist for the Triumvirate. I have come to your kingdom to seek asylum from New Eaton.” His voice was deep and sonorous, eloquent and respectable.
The Cabinet murmured, but the king kept listening.
“I also offer my services to you, Your Majesty. You may use them however you wish.”
“Your timing is curious, Gourman,” Lady Duxelle said. “Your race just won the most decisive victory in the history of the war. Why do you want to live among vegetables?”
“My life is in danger.”
The room went silent, and not even Parson had a snide comment to make.
“I am the cause of your kingdom’s present woes,” Geoffrey said. “I am the inventor of Nutrizeen.”
“What is that?” King Carrodias asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough. It could destroy this entire kingdom.”
Lady Duxelle leaned toward the king. “He’s not making any sense.”
The king nodded. “Why are you in danger, Dr. Foster?”
“I have had…a revelation, Your Majesty. I can no longer tolerate the actions of the Triumvirate. My conscience will not allow me to continue working for them. I have abandoned my job, something that is unheard of among Gourmans. If I return to New Eaton, they will kill me.”
“Then let him die!” Parson shouted. The rest of the Cabinet grumbled in agreement.
“If it were just me, I would understand your anger,” Geoffrey said. “After what I’ve done, I don’t expect your kindness. But I’m not here because of my selfishness. I’m here because of my children. Mint! Graeme! Introduce yourselves to the king.”
The guards ushered in two children. One was a yellow graham cracker shake; he looked just like Geoffrey but had a childish face. The other, the older, was a green and brown mint chocolate chip shake. The guards held the kids by their straws to stop them from running away.
Parson rose. “Bah! This is the joke of the century.” He turned to the king. “Why can’t we just launch an attack on the Gourmans already?”
Spudseth agreed. “This is a joke. I refuse to participate in this madness. It’s an obvious trap. Now the Gourmans are using their children for warfare.”
Lady Duxelle whistled and quieted the Cabinet.
“You’re lying, Gourman,” she said. “Tell us why you’re really here.”
“I am not lying,” Geoffrey said. “If you won’t accept us, please tell me so we can move on.”
King Carrodias whispered to Lady Duxelle, “I don’t think he’s lying.”
“He has to be. Gourmans aren’t capable of good. Kick him out, Your Majesty. I have a bad feeling about him.”
The king stood. “Very well. Dr. Foster, I grant you the asylum you desire.”
The Cabinet rose in anger and Lady Duxelle glowered at the king. “But, Your Majesty—”
Ignoring the uproar, King Carrodias stepped down from the pedestal and knelt before the children.
“Children, how old are you?” the king asked.
“I’m fourteen,” Mint said. “Graeme is ten.”
“Do you know where you are?” the king asked.
“The vegetable kingdom,” Mint said. She looked away from the king and refused to meet his eyes.
“That’s partially correct, Mint. But, most importantly, you’re in a kingdom that welcomes everyone, regardless of who they are or where they’re from. I don’t know what your father has done, and I don’t know what the two of you will do when you get older, but I hope that you remember this day—that you remember me—and realize that this war is silly. It’s pointless.”
“Now is not the time for philosophy!” Lady Duxelle shouted.
King Carrodias gestured widely across the court.
“Silence, Lady Duxelle. You are wrong. This is the perfect time for philosophy. When did my Cabinet become so bloodthirsty and unwilling to see this war for what it really is? We, the vegetables, must be the better foods. We must not become divided over racial tension. We can’t keep killing each other, we can’t keep living separated. It’s time to change the conversation.”
“So this is what you’ve been brooding about?” Lady Duxelle asked. “Is this really the time to spout your new revelation to us, on the eve of our extinction? I will not be silenced, Your Majesty. You are making a mistake. These Gourmans will ruin us!”
Mint and Graeme hugged each other.
“We will leave,” he said, brushing his children’s lids.
King Carrodias flashed his winning smile. “No, you won’t. I own an empty residence on the outskirts of town. You can live there. I personally guarantee that my citizens will not harm you. If they do, I will exile them from this kingdom.”
“Your Majesty, you can’t exile your own subjects,” Parson said.
The king sighed. “There are many things I haven’t done that I probably should have. Kicking you off my Cabinet might have been one of them.”
Parson shrank into his chair and gripped the arms in shock.
“I’ve seen weakness,” he whispered to Spudseth, “but this is just pathetic.”
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