Of course he wanted to pry. This place was defended like an outpost on the edge of Alliance territory.
“Well, yes, the Captal had some help deciding,” Vaughn said. “But his support on his home world, Lusoes, was still strong. The new government voted him a hefty pension on condition that he . . . stay retired. It was the most cost-effective alternative.”
Daniel nodded. The pension was cost effective if it wasn’t practical to assassinate the pensioner. That explained the compound’s defenses.
The elevator door rotated open, a section of the gleaming metal vanishing into itself like an oil film. The guests already within the large room stared at Daniel appraisingly; the servants paused.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Vaughn, “our guest of honor, Lieutenant Daniel Leary who brought me here from Cinnabar!”
There was a dusting of applause. Those who held drinks tapped the fingertips of their free hand on the wrist of the other.
Servants began to circulate again with trays of drinks and finger food. It was obvious that Daniel had been given an arrival time—which he’d met within thirty seconds—later than that of the other guests.
He stepped out of the cage, his face stiff in his determination not to give anything away. He didn’t have enough information to know what was going on, but he was in no doubt that something was happening beyond Vaughn proving he could crack the whip over Daniel on land as surely as Daniel had done to him on Cinnabar. He’d learned that much about politics by being Speaker Leary’s son.
“Though the lieutenant wears the uniform of the Cinnabar navy,” Vaughn continued as though he were reading Daniel’s mind, “he is of course the only son of Speaker Corder Leary.”
“There’s no ‘though’ about my uniform, Mr. Vaughn,” Daniel said, controlling his irritation as well as he could. “I’m a serving officer in the RCN and much more proud of that fact than I am in being a Leary.”
He heard what he’d said and frowned. At any rate, he hoped that was true. Pride was a funny thing, especially when you were in the middle of a lot of foreigners.
“This is our host, the Captal da Lund,” Vaughn said, gesturing Daniel toward the tall man in the black coat. He was in his sixties, with short hair, gray eyes, and a face whose fleshy lips were the only hint of softness. “An old friend of my family.”
The Captal and Daniel gripped elbows, forearm to forearm. Daniel was surprised to note that so ascetic-looking a man wore perfume.
“Mistress Zane you already know,” Vaughn went on, nodding to the woman Daniel had met on Cinnabar. “This is Mr. Angele, who’s in transit trade out of Cove Harbor. He was one of my godfathers. . . .”
Vaughn went around the gathering, introducing Daniel to one Strymon national after another. Some, like Angele—a heavy-bodied, hard-eyed fellow who spoke mainly in grunts—were expatriates with businesses on Sexburga, but Zane and most of the others present were normally resident on Strymon itself.
This was obviously a gathering of conspirators. The Captal was involved either through family friendship as Vaughn claimed, or simply the desire of a born intriguer to keep his hand in, even if that meant meddling in others’ affairs for lack of his own.
The question remaining as Daniel embraced his way around the room was why he was present.
The last guest was equally anomalous, a man of thirty-odd in clothes of closely tailored Cinnabar cut. “And finally, Mr. Gerson,” Vaughn said, “who’s on the staff of the Cinnabar commissioner here, Admiral Torgis. Were you able to see the admiral, Lieutenant?”
“He was occupied when I called,” Daniel said, clasping Gerson and stepping thankfully away. “He was kind enough to send a courier to the Princess Cecile before I left for this party, inviting the officers to a gathering at his residence tomorrow, however.”
Gerson looked healthy enough, but his muscles felt doughy and his breathing was fast and shallow. Was Gerson a Cinnabar spy? Supposedly the Office of External Relations always had someone on a resident’s staff, and a strategic port like Sexburga might attract other organizations as well.