“Ran Colville,” he said with a smile. “And if you can tell me—is there a hotel around here? I don’t look forward to getting back to the ship tonight, and if I did I’d get rousted before my head hit the pillow. Also I could use a meal.”
Hatton looked at him sharply. “Yes, there are hotels,” she said. “And restaurants, though I don’t know what’ll be open with things—the way they are. I can take you past one on my way home, since I’m leaving now myself.”
“Ah . . . ?” said Ran. “Could I offer you dinner too?”
Hatton sniffed. “And have it look as though Trident bribed me to provide guards? Not likely, sailor.”
“Trident isn’t picking up the tab,” Ran said. The comment didn’t bother him, but he injected a touch of acid in his voice to make the blond woman feel guilty. “I’m off duty, I’m in a strange city, and all hell’s breaking loose. I was just hoping for the company of somebody who’s acted like a friend.”
Hatton grinned ruefully. “Sorry,” she said, “it’s been a long day. Sure, let’s have a meal—but Dutch treat. And—”
Her face hardened.
“—I want it very clear: we’re having dinner together. We’re not going to bed.”
Ran chuckled. “Milady, I don’t doubt you’ve had a hell of a day, but believe me, it’s not a patch on mine.” He crooked his arm for her to take it. “There’s some things that’re just beyond human limits.”
Which was perfectly true. Though in that one particular category, Ran Colville hadn’t found his limits yet
* * *
The parking lot beneath the embassy building smelled of oil and damp concrete. The cars were an odd mix of Terran, Nevasan, and a scattering of models built on various other planets where embassy personnel had been stationed previously.
“Be careful out there, Ms. Hatton,” warned the attendant. He was slim and dark, a Nevasan native. “Mostly they’re acting happy—but people are scared, and you can’t tell what’s going to happen.”
“Thank you, Lee,” Susan said. “I’m leaving my car here. From what I see out the window, it wouldn’t be possible to drive out anyway.”
“As you wish, Ms. Hatton,” Lee said. He looked Ran over. “And good luck to you too, sir,” he added.
“Thank you,” Ran said formally. “I and my employers are very appreciative of the embassy’s help in this crisis.”
Of course Lee’s comment had a double meaning. Of course Ran Colville knew better than to embarrass a lady in front of her staff.
Lee stepped into his kiosk at the head of the exit ramp and threw a lever. Motors winched up the armored door.
“Come!” Susan directed, tapping the back of Ran’s hand, and they darted through together. The door crashed shut, leaving them with the glowing Nevasan night.
A crowd filled the street—not solidly but by small groups and individuals, the way jellyfish swarm to the surface of a calm sea. No one spoke loudly, but the air hissed with conversation and the miniature radios that more than half of the people carried. Occasionally a cheer would rumble from far away, like angry surf.
“All the government ministries are within a few blocks of here,” Susan explained. “People want to know what’s going on.”
“They could learn more by staying home and watching the news,” Ran said. He was keyed up, though the day had wrung him out too thoroughly for his jitters to be obvious. “They’re like kids before they run a race, too nervous to sit still.”
Susan nodded them to the right at the intersection with the boulevard fronting the embassy. The park across the way was full of people. Buildings facing the park were brilliantly floodlit, and someone was speaking through an amplifier. Ran couldn’t make out the words, but the crowd responded with waves of sullen enthusiasm.
“Parliament and the presidential palace,” Susan said. Then she added, “If they understood what was going to happen, they wouldn’t be cheering.”
Ran shrugged. “It’s going to happen anyway,” he said. “Whatever ordinary people think, whatever they do. They might as well be happy while they can.”
On one of the helmet recordings Ran found after his father died: