“Madam,” said Daniel, deliberately turning his head and lifting it slightly to look down his nose at her. “If there’s information which the Republic needs to know, then I’m sure that the proper parties know it. You’ll have to direct your questions elsewhere, however, because I’m not one of those people myself.”
But Adele is, unless I’m very badly mistaken.
He fixed Governor Sakama with his gaze. Daniel knew perfectly well that the fellow could have him taken out and shot, or perhaps shoot him personally with that sub-machine gun; it was a working weapon, not a gilded and engraved toy.
Daniel said in a firm voice, “So, your excellency—I’m honored that you requested my presence to clear up that little misconception. If you have questions that I can answer, I’d be more than happy to. Otherwise, I won’t impose on your time. Eh?”
It didn’t do to show weakness, except with the girls who thought weakness was the same as sensitivity. In Daniel’s experience weakness was usually the same as self-absorption, but he was willing to wear any suitable camouflage on a hunt. Which he’d be doing as soon as he got back to the Princess Cecile and made sure she was settled to a degree that allowed her captain to take some liberty himself . . . if he got back alive.
“We didn’t request Mr. Leary’s presence in order to hector him, Ayesha,” the Governor said with a frown. The catch in his throat made the words sound harsher than perhaps they were meant, but Sakama’s look wasn’t one that Daniel would want an autocrat directing at him.
The woman, Ayesha, must have felt the same way. She fell to her knees and prostrated herself, catching Daniel’s ankles before he could jump back. “Your pardon, gracious lord!” she said, speaking into the rug-covered floor. “My life is yours to command.”
“Get up, please!” Daniel said, shocked and disgusted. The woman was twice his age, powerful, and—judging from the words if not the tone of her complaint—obviously intelligent. She shouldn’t be abasing herself!
To the Governor he added, “Really, your excellency, we in the Republic of Cinnabar pride ourselves on a frank exchange of views. I took no offense.”
Neither part of that disclaimer was wholly true. Had the woman as ambassador to Cinnabar used that tone on Speaker Leary, he’d have had her flogged on the Senate floor while his fellow Senators applauded. But Ayesha’s fear seemed to be of worse than a flogging, and that was uncalled for.
You could never tell what wogs would do. They might even decided to murder the son of a powerful Cinnabar politician. . . .
Sakama leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on Daniel. “Captain Leary?” he said in a whisper that made Daniel think of a cat playing with something alive. “You say you’re sure that proper persons are dealing with the matter of the Alliance building a naval base on Gehenna. How are you sure?”
“Your excellency,” Daniel said, “I know as little as you do about the workings of the Republic’s high political levels. Less, perhaps, because it was never a matter of interest to me even when I was on polite terms with my father. Which I have not been for these past seven years.”
He paused for effect. He’d let his voice rise slightly as he fell into the rhythms of a speech to the Sissie’s crew, convincing his listeners of the importance of what he was saying and his utter sincerity in saying it.
“But I do know that the Republic of Cinnabar has for a thousand years supported her friends and defeated her enemies,” Daniel continued. Sometimes those enemies were the friends of the past who’d found the burdens of friendship with the Republic too onerous; but this was a stump speech, not a lecture. “If there’s something that the rulers of the Republic should know, they know it. I have no idea how that’s accomplished, but I trust the system that has risen from strength to strength for a millennium!”
If the Governor and his advisors decided Daniel Leary was a rabid Cinnabar patriot with nothing in his head but the formless assurance that his country would triumph, they would send him back to his proper business . . . as Daniel intended they should. If Sakama recognized that Daniel had been speaking cold, rational truth as well—that wasn’t a bad thing either.