energy, a jerky wave, almost robotic, but at least he was doing it under

his own power.

They had a big platform made out of polished redwood up at the plaza,

with a crowd of VIPs already there. As the car approached, everyone made

room for it, and when it halted just in front of the platform Carlotta

 

hopped out and guided Uncle James's chair down the car's wheelchair ramp

and into the open.

"Ned Townes," a fat sandy-haired man with a thick brown mustache told

her, pushing his face into hers. "Imperial adjutant. Splendid of you to

come. What a grand old soldier he is!" He gave Uncle James a sidelong

glance. "Can he hear anything I say?" He leaned down next to Uncle

James's ear and in a booming voice he bellowed, "Welcome to San

Francisco, General Crawford! On behalf of His Imperial Majesty Norton the

Fourteenth, welcome to-"

Uncle James shot him a withering scowl.

"You don't have to shout like that, boy," Uncle James said. "I can

f.u.c.king well hear better than you can."

Townes reddened, but he managed a laugh. "Of course. Of course."

Carlotta said, "Is the Emperor here yet?"

"In a little while. We're running a bit late, you understand. If you and

the general will take seats over there until we're ready to call him up to

receive his medal-- well, of course, he's seated already, but you know what

I- ".

"Aren't we going to sit on the platform?" Carlotta asked.

"I'm afraid it's reserved for city officials and dignitaries."

She didn't move. "Uncle James is a dignitary. We came all the way

from Berkeley for this, and if you're going to shunt him into some corner

for hours and hours while you-"

"Please," Townes said.

"He's a hundred forty-three years old, do you realize that?"

"Please," he said. "Bear with me." He looked ready to cry. "The

Emperor himself will personally decorate him. But until then, I have to ask

you . . . "

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