That line of consideration brought Daniel’s mind uncomfortably back to Adele. He wished again she was here; or, even better, that he himself wasn’t.
“I’m not surprised, Leary,” Gerson said. “You’re quite the celebrity since the Kostroma business. Certified heroes rarely appear on Sexburga during peacetime.”
And just how peaceful is this gathering? Daniel thought, though all he said aloud was, “I was particularly pleased that the admiral is giving a separate party for the crew, using a depot ship docked in the slip beside ours so that even the anchor watch can get a taste of it.”
“Oh, Admiral Torgis is an old space rover, all right,” Gerson said. “You two should get along swimmingly, Leary.”
If Gerson was trying to hide his bitterness, he was doing a very poor job. Was the man drunk?
“I certainly hope I will,” Daniel said, turning slightly as he spoke as though he was being drawn by the view out the windows. The Strymonian guests had formed a group beside a statue that looked like tall hands reaching up from the floor. They spoke in low voices, their eyes on Daniel instead of on one another.
Gerson affected Daniel like a bad smell: bearable if necessary, but something to be avoided whenever possible. Daniel said, “I wonder if I could find a—yes, thank you!” to the servant who came by with a tray of drinks. He snatched one that turned out to be pink and frothy; sweet as well, but when it hit the back of his throat he had to admit it was sufficiently potent.
Delos Vaughn had noticed the awkwardness. His brow furrowed, then cleared in an ingenuous smile as he said, “Captal, the lieutenant here is a naturalist of note. Why don’t you tell him of your explorations on South Land?”
“Why yes, I’d heard that mentioned, Mr. Leary,” the Captal said as he turned toward Daniel. “A man could make himself famous by exploring the ruins of South Land properly. They are beyond question the remains of a prehuman civilization!”
He picked up a slender, arm’s-length rod from a display of knickknacks and sliced it absently in a figure eight. It took Daniel a moment to realize that other items on the table included thumbscrews and manacles with spiked protrusions on the inside.
“Really, sir?” Daniel said. “I hadn’t heard about that. Have they been studied?”
The Captal tapped the table with his rod. Daniel had taken it for translucent plastic at first; now he realized it was the penis bone of a carnivorous mammal or mammaloid that must weigh tons. Or be hung like a horse, of course.
“Not at all, sir!” the Captal said. “This is a crime, and I believe you are the man to right it. Would you care to see for yourself? I’ll provide you with an aircar and a guide.”
Daniel sipped, careful not to drain the bit of his drink remaining. He held his liquor as befitted an officer of the RCN, but this pink fluff was deceptively strong. He didn’t know how long the party was going to go on, and he was quite sure that he didn’t want to blurt something in an uncontrolled moment.
Blurt what, he had no idea. All he knew for certain was that these people had an agenda of their own, and that Lt. Daniel Leary was a pawn they were maneuvering for purposes that weren’t his own.
“I appreciate the offer, sir,” Daniel said, “but I don’t believe that’ll be possible. I need to stay in Spires until the arrival of the squadron to which the Princess Cecile has been attached. After that time my whereabouts will be at the disposition of the squadron commander, Commodore Pettin. I very much doubt he’ll wish me to go—”
He almost said, “haring off,” but caught himself in time.
“—exploring on Sexburga, however much I might like to do so.”
The Captal’s face became a mask of cold fury. He lashed the table with the penis bone, a snap! like nearby lightning.
“I wholly agree with you that there should be proper examination, sir,” Daniel continued. “I’m sure you’ll be able to carry it out yourself more ably than a transient RCN officer could do.”