“He travels the fastest who travels alone.”

―Rudyard Kipling

“However, he’s much less likely to reach his destination than those who travel in packs.”

―The Princess, observing a grasshopper eaten by ants

Not wishing to be manhandled by two individuals of shady character, the Princess elected to remove her armguards by herself, which was a grueling and trying task at the best of times as the suit was not designed to be disassembled by only one person working from inside. Since time was of the essence, she worked rapidly, twisting pins and pulling strips in ways she knew she’d likely regret afterwards.

Due to the many materials and components that went into their production, the hefty contraptions that were her armguards made an impressive din as they hit the ground, a sound not unlike plastic dice rolling on a metallic surface. The Princess had found the sound most distasteful as she associated it with vulgar pastimes such as games of chance or fantasy, both of which were decidedly bourgeois pastimes and unbecoming any person of quality.

Furthermore, the noise had the unpleasant side effect of rousing Audric to action. The loyal beast, ever helpful, elected to assist the Princess by distributing as many bites and scratches to her small torso as possible in the short amount of time before she banged her chest plate, silencing the little animal.

“I apologize for that. Now, these are the handles, what you have—” she began.

“I am well versed in inferior western technology.” Tanaka interrupted the Princess and picked up the slender but heavy armguards with ease, fitting them on his shoulders with one fluid motion, as if they were a scarf made of steel and polymers. His clever hands quickly found the manual controls and brought the machinery to life.

Deftly playing with gears and levers, the samurai ascended the wall with the grace of a gorilla crossed with a giant crab, leaving deep indentations in the smooth surface as he went up. A constant rain of ground marble and the thunderous sounds of crushing stone accompanied his movement.

Provided a modicum of privacy by noise and distance, the Princess felt she could freely conspire with Ivanov with minimal danger of Tanaka overhearing the proceedings. She opened her mouth and realized that the former thought was an exercise in self-deception. It was not the increase of distance between her person and Tanaka that prompted the conversation, but rather the decrease of distance between herself and Ivanov, metaphorically speaking. With the exception of his unfortunate Russianness, Ivanov was a proper gentleman, even if he couldn’t properly pronounce “gentleman,” “proper,” or any other Corporate English word for that matter.

“I don’t suppose anyone will fault us if Tanaka slipped and fell to his death.…”

“Fall will not kill him. Need nuclear bomb to kill this one,” Ivanov said while following Tanaka’s rapid ascent with an air of professional appreciation.

“I understand there are several nuclear bombs on this planetoid, and my ship is rather well stocked. If I still have a ship, that is.”

“I hope you don’t plan some spectacular suicide, your highness.”

“No, I rather hope for a hilarious homicide,” the Princess said, inching closer to the Russian count.

“Our shared tactical purpose changes nothing. After this, I still plan to deliver you to Kremlin.”

“You don’t stand a chance of winning the auction,” the Princess countered. “Your government is as poor as it is delusional. However, perhaps you could still achieve some of your aims through cooperation with myself as a local representative of my government.”

Ivanov opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the clamor of the Princess’s armguards tumbling down the wall and hitting the ground not two meters away from the pair. Ivanov picked them up and whistled. “Not a scratch. Good workmanship.”

“All this, and more, so much more, can be yours if you just …” the Princess’s words trailed off as Ivanov started the climb. He probably thought that the main point of this exercise was to stave off the chornoi. Some men just don’t have a sense of priorities.

The Princess took a few steps back to avoid being brained by falling debris and observed the Russian eagerly clamber up the tower, determined to prove that he could be just as nimble and twice as noisy as the Japanese. After some minutes, the Russian disappeared over the edge of the tower and soon after her lovely armor smashed against the ground for the second time. While a mere 50-meter fall was no threat to its integrity or functionality, even the smallest crack or dent cut her to the quick. She knew it was not the correct way of looking at battle gear, whose fashion value was only augmented by signs of wear, but she was a princess, not a space marine from the Old Brigade. Signs of wear and tear were never something she’d imagined seeing firsthand, let alone on her own attire.

Oh, well. No point in regretting the inevitable. Her time would be better served considering ways to get rid of that tenacious villain Tanaka. Certainly, it was better than considering the wear and tear she’d experience herself if she slipped and exploded like a watermelon on the ground or, worse yet, was caught by a yet functioning murder tree. Despite her armor and uniform, the Princess, deprived of the safety provided by her shield, felt more naked than she would have had she worn nothing but the fig-sized shield generator. She wondered if this was how simple people felt as they walked down the street or did whatever it is simple people do, without the benefit of an energy bubble protecting them from accident or malice.

She speculated what could be waiting for them on the roof. Given the fact that Tanaka was the first climber, she hoped it would be something quite nasty with plenty of barbed tentacles and a surprising familiarity with human anatomy. Assuming this was the case, as, being a princess, she assumed that what she assumed was fait accompli, the Princess climbed at a snail’s pace, taking the time to appreciate the landscape and share her impressions with Audric, who seemed quite pleased with the ordeal. Pleased enough, thankfully, as to avoid offering any further help to the Princess, who already had enough bite marks to offer a cosmetician a whole day’s work.

About halfway up the wall, a tiny drone, no bigger than a fly, landed on the Princess’s cheek and began ponderously climbing towards her eye. Its tiny metallic feet pierced her skin, sending unpleasant shudders through her body. She shook her head violently back and forth in an attempt to rid herself of the annoying newcomer. Seeing the futility of her attempts, and nearly losing her hold, the Princess allowed herself some remarks uncharacteristic of her station. Seeing her distress, Audric tried to swallow the thing, but it deftly dodged the ferret’s shooting snout each time, mocking the ferret’s insufficient acuity by constantly buzzing in front of his snout.

Each time the little machine dodged the ferret, it made a few buzzing circles and landed on her face again, once showing interest in her upper lip, another time trying to invade a nostril, and still another coming dangerously close to her eye. Her hands were occupied with controlling the pneumatics that allowed her to scale the wall, forcing her to use her head, in a manner of speaking, to fend off the offending machine.

While this was not the most effective way to kill a person, it was certainly the most aggravating. Why anyone would program a machine to do this was simply beyond the Princess. She wondered if the men had had to deal with the annoying drone and if they had, how they handled it. All the while, Audric was snapping at the air, missing the damnable thing by the breadth of a hair, but missing nevertheless.

This gave the Princess an idea. It was not a good idea by any standard, but it was, nevertheless, an idea. She stopped climbing, shut her eyes, and opened her mouth. The thing tried assaulting her ear, but Audric shooed it away, unfortunately removing a small bit of the Princess’s ear in the process. Now, it seemed, the efforts of the little beast would provide work for a plastic surgeon as well as a cosmetician. However, as long as it deprived the mortician of his pay, the Princess felt she was in no position to complain.

It landed on her nostril, but she exhaled it away. It landed on her cheek and the Princess waited. She shuddered as the little metal feet squeezed her lip one shade short of painful. As soon as she felt metal on enamel she violently closed her mouth with a loud crunch, hoping that in so doing she wasn’t creating a job opportunity for a dentist as well. The drone buzzed one last time, cutting both the inside of her cheek and the side of her tongue, and then went silent.

She opened her eyes and spat it out. The thing fell down, so small she neither saw nor heard it hit the ground. She turned her face to stare directly at Audric, who was sitting on her shoulder like a parrot.

“See dear? Even as a ferret, I’m better than you are.”

The little ferret said nothing. He only caught the Princess’s face with both his claws and licked the blood off her lips. The Princess doubted it constituted adequate medical care but appreciated the gesture nevertheless.

“Of course, if you bite me now, I’ll bite your head off. It’s only fair.”

Apparently Audric accepted her proposition. For the rest of the climb, he was as gentle as a proper royal pet. Soon, bored of an existence in which biting his lady was no longer possible, the ferret disappeared into her armor for a nap.