“We are enormously concerned—” This was sera Ren Milin, head of Agriculture, “enormously concerned for your personal safety. Dissidents and saboteurs are presently confined to attacks on depots, but one more deranged than the rest.”
“I do appreciate your concern. You have heavy arms . . . for onworld security . . . surely. I’d appreciate it if a goodly number were delivered to my estate, say, sufficient for a thousand men.”
Faces went uniformly stark with shock.
“Precaution, you see, against dissidents, saboteurs, and deranged persons. If it’s generally known that we’re armed, ITAK being so inclined to general broadcast channels, there will be less temptation. I certainly hope not to use them. But you wouldn’t like the consequences of a Kontrin killed here . . . by your own locals. No. You’d be surprised how even Houses at odds with mine would look on that: the Family . . . would be forced to make a very strong answer to that. The facts of policy. Kindly see that the arms arrive. They’re quite safe in my hands. My security, after all, is yours. And enough, enough unpleasantness. I’m quite delighted by your courtesy. I’ll extend you my own hospitality as soon as I’m decently settled and housed. If there’s entertainment to be had, I’d appreciate knowing. I suffer from boredom. I do hope there’s some society here.”
The pallor did not entirely depart. They murmured courtesies, professed themselves honoured and delighted by the prospect of her company socially. She laughed softly.
“And Outsiders!” she exclaimed ingenuously. “Seri, I saw an Outsider ship at station . . . an ordinary sight for you, surely, but profoundly exciting for one from innerworlds. I’ve met these folk, had some chance to talk with them. Do you include them in your society?”
That brought silence, a moment of awkwardness.
“It could be arranged,” sera Dain said.
“Excellent ” Raen finished her drink and set it aside.
“We’ll be pleased to provide what we can in all respects,” ser Dain managed to say. “Would you care for another drink, Kont’ Raen?”
“No, thank you.” She gathered herself up and waited for Jim, deliberately slipped her hand within his arm. “I’m quite content with your courtesy. Very pleased. Thank you so much. And don’t worry about what I shall uncover. I know that you’ve been driven to unusual methods, unusual sources. I give you warning that I know . . . and I shall refrain from seeing what perhaps shades your license. The maintenance of order here under trying circumstances is a tribute to your ingenuity. I don’t find fault, seri. And do forgive me. My next call will be entirely social, I assure you.”
Men moved to reach the door, to open it for her. She smiled at them one and all and walked out, with Jim beside her, in a crowd of security agents who made turmoil in the outer offices.
The agents, armoured police, and Dain senior himself insisted on staying with them, in the lift and out into the foyer. She lingered there an instant, with the crowd milling about, looking up to the glass sculpture.
“Find me the artist’s address,” she said to Dain. “Send it to me this evening. Would you do that?”
“Honoured,” he said. “Honoured to do so.”
She walked on. The crowds broke and closed.
“You would find interest, perhaps,” ser Dain rambled on, while the police in advance of them pushed folk from before the doors to clear passage, “in an example I have in my own house, if you would do me the honour to—”
Shadows moved beyond the tinted-glass doors, out beneath the pillars, about the car . . . too-tall shadows, fantastical.
“Sera,” Jim protested.
Under her cloak she drew her gun, but ser Dain put out his hand, not touching—offering caution. “The police will move them. Please, sera!”
Raen paid him no heed, stayed with the rush of the agents and the police as they burst outside.
Greens. Warriors. They swarmed about the entrance, about the car. “Away!” a policeman shouted at them. “Move away!”
Auditory palps flicked out, back, refusal to listen. The majat did move back somewhat, averaging a line, a group.