And suddenly there was a disturbance at the door.
Two passengers stood there, male and female, betas. The azi of the salon, so long without visitors to serve of evenings, took an instant to react. Then they hurried about preparing chairs and a table for the pair, taking their order for drinks.
The game continued. Jim threw two ships and a star. He won the ships and had twenty; Raen won the star and took game.
“Your hundred fifty-four,” she said quietly, “to your four hundred fifty-two.”
Jim nodded.
“Take first throw.”
He shook his head; one could refuse a courtesy. She gathered up the wands.
A chair moved. One of the passengers was coming over to them. Raen hesitated in her cast and then looked aside in annoyance, the wands still in her hand.
“I am ser Merek Eln,” the man said, and gestured back to the woman who had also risen. “Sera Parn Kest my wife.”
Raen inclined her head as if this were of great moment to her. The betas seemed to miss the irony. “Kont’ Raen a Sul,” And with cold courtesy. “Grace to you both.”
“Are you . . . bound for Istra?”
Raen smiled, though coldly. “Is there anything more remote?”
Merek Eln blinked and swallowed. “The ship must surely start its return there. Istra is the edge of the Reach.”
“Then that must be where I am bound.”
“We . . . are in ITAK, Istran Trade . . .”
“. . . Association, Kontrin-licensed. Yes. I’m familiar with the registered corporations.”
“We offer our assistance, our—hospitality.”
Raen looked him up and down, and sera Kest also. She let the silence continue. “How kind,” she said at last. “I’ve never had such an offer. Perhaps I’ll take advantage of it. I don’t believe there are other Kontrin on Istra.”
“No,” Eln said faintly. “Kontrin, if you would care to discuss the matter which brings you here—”
“I don’t.”
“We might . . . assist you.”
“You aren’t listening, ser Merek Eln. I assure you, I have no interests in ITAK matters.”
“Yet you chose Istra.”
“Not I.”
The man blinked, confused.
“I didn’t divert the ship,” Raen said.
“If we can be of service—”
You’ve offered me your hospitality. I’ve said that I shall consider it. For the moment, as you see, I’m engaged. I have four games yet to go this evening. Perhaps you’ll care to watch.” She turned her back on ser Merek Eln and sera Kest, looked at Jim, who waited quietly. Azi were accustomed to immobility when not pursuing orders. “What do you know of Istra?” she asked him.
“It’s a hive world. A contact point with Outside. Their sun is beta Hydri.”
“The contact point. I don’t recall any Kontrin going there recently. I knew one who did, once. But surely there are some amusements to be had there.”
“I, don’t know,” Jim said very faintly, quieter in the presence of the Istrans than he had been since the beginning. “I belong to Andra Lines. My knowledge doesn’t extend beyond the range of my ship.”
“Do these folk make you nervous? I’ll ask them to leave if you like.”
“Please, no,” Jim said hoarsely. Raen shrugged and made the cast.
It came up three stars. She took first throw. Twelve. Jim made his: two. Raen gathered thirty-six points. Jim took up the wands as if they were venomed, threw three whites. Raen won the dicing and automatically took game.
“Your luck has bit a sudden downward turn,” Raen said, gathering up the three wands. She passed them to him. “But there’s still margin. We’re at four hundred fifty-five to your four hundred sixty-two.”
He lost all but the last game, setting the tally at four hundred sixty-three to four hundred fifty-seven. His margin was down to six.
He was sweating profusely. Raen ordered a drink for them each, and Jim took a great swallow of his, all the while staring at a blank comer of the room, meeting no one’s eyed.
“These folk do make you uncomfortable,” she said. “But if you win—why, then you’ll be out among them, free and very wealthy. Perhaps wealthier than they. Do you think of that?”