“Lady Mundy,” Enrique Pansuela said when he at last noticed Adele. He was drugged again, walking stiffly and talking with a complete lack of affect. His addiction allowed him to function with his normal intelligence, but he showed no more emotion than the concrete quay.
“Patron,” Adele said, nodding crisply. It’s by his choice, just as I carry a gun by my choice. The sight gave her a twinge of sadness nonetheless. “Lady Pansuela.”
Flora acknowledged with a toss of her head; makeup couldn’t hide the bruise on her right cheekbone. Her hair was teased high onto a series of combs, hand-carved from some opalescent material. Fish scales? Or perhaps bones? Something to look up as soon as Adele could with propriety bring out her data unit.
The Klimovs reached the quay, Valentina leading the Count. She offered Enrique her hand while eyeing his wife with cool amusement. Enrique touched the Klimovna’s fingertips and dipped his head in a scant bow, seemingly oblivious of any emotional currents.
Count Klimov cleared his throat. He kept his eyes on the concrete except for quick glances at the others around him, the way a mouse might look from its hole to a roomful of people.
“You’ll be returning to Todos Santos?” Enrique asked with bland friendliness. He glanced at the sky without any sign of concern that he’d be riding back to his house in an open car.
“No, Captain Leary has suggested a planet called Morzanga,” Klimov said to his boots of tooled leather. “It’s not on the way to anything, but time isn’t of concern to us. His uncle found the wreckage of a starship there which the Captain now thinks might be John Tsetzes’ yacht. Since we know Tsetzes passed this way, from the buckle.”
“Yes, you’d explained your interest in this John Tsetzes,” Enrique said. “We’d like to give you a present. Flora dear, will you make the presentation?”
His wife colored under her dark skin. “No, you do it,” she said, looking away from everyone.
“As you please, dear one,” Enrique said. “Ector, bring the gift forward.”
The servant stepped between the Pansuelas. Enrique flicked off the damask and opened the box, still in the servant’s hands.
Count Klimov began to tremble; Valentina laughed. Adele leaned forward, expecting to see John Tsetzes’ belt buckle. Instead the box held the pistol Father Rosario had been using. Now that she had time to examine it, she realized it was of platinum with the Novy Sverdlovsk flag picked out in gold on the receiver.
“I hope this will make amends for the difficulties of last night,” Enrique said. “It seemed a suitable gift, all things considered.”
“No,” said the Count in a choked voice. “No, no, you keep it.”
“On the contrary, Georgi, dear one,” said the Klimovna. She took the pistol from the box, pursing her lips at its unexpected weight. “I think this is a wonderful gift. And think of the story we’ll have to tell when we return home.”
She looked at Enrique and bowed. “I wish there were something we could give you in exchange,” she said. Her eyes turned minusculely to lock on Flora. “But perhaps my husband already has, darling . . . ?”
Thunder rolled. Daniel called something cheerful. The spacers holding the lines pulled his inflatable raft toward the quay.
Adele looked at the two couples. She said nothing and showed nothing. But she was glad the Princess Cecile would be lifting from Tegeli very soon.
CHAPTER 17
While the Princess Cecile continued to orbit eighty miles above Morzanga, Daniel locked the frozen image of the village adjacent to their intended landing place on his display, then increased the magnification to where he could see the poles supporting the individual houses. A central circle contained about half the fifty-eight dwellings, and the remainder straggled away into the jungle in several directions.
Natives walked among the houses and tended fish weirs in the broad, mud-brown river nearby. A border of jungle concealed the village from anyone in the channel, but the weirs were a dead giveaway to its presence.
“According to Commander Bergen’s logs, he landed the RCS Granite in the slough just east of this village,” Daniel said. Ships, even exploration vessels like the Granite, didn’t land in moving water if they could avoid it. Besides, landing directly in the river would destroy the weirs and very possibly incinerate some fishermen as well, not a good way to make friends of the locals. “It doesn’t appear to have changed in the twenty-seven years since the Granite landed. Now, you’ll notice here—”