A buzz of recognition went through the crowd.
Martine was tall and slim, wearing a military uniform of white and gold that accentuated his lean frame. His face was long, serious, with sad hound’s eyes and a prominent patrician nose. He nodded and put on a measured smile”Of course. The man who defeated Kerak’s assassin. It is good to see you again. Professor.”
‘Thank you for inviting me,” Leoh responded. “And congratulations on your election.”
Martine nodded gravely.
“I have been trying to convince the Prime Minister,” Spencer said in his heavy public-address voice, “that Acquatainia would benefit greatly from joining the Commonwealth. But he seems to have reservations.”
Martine raised his eyes to look beyond the crowd, out toward the satellite’s transparent shell and the golden planet beyond.
“Acquatainia has traditionally remained independent of the Commonwealth,” Martine said. “We have no need of special trade advantages or political alliances. We are a rich and strong and happy people.”
“But you are threatened by Kerak,” Leoh said.
“My dear Professor,” Martine said, raising himself slightfy and looking down on Leoh, “I have been a military man all my adult life. I had the honor of helping to efeat Kerak a generation ago. I know how to deal with militaiy threats.”
Far across the satellite, at one of the air lock entrances, Hector—wearing a stabilizer belt now—hovered above a crowd of latecomers as they came through the air lock, searching their faces. And there she was!
He mushed down into them, accidentally pushing three jeweled and cloaked businessmen into an equal number of mini-gowned wives, stepping on the foot of a burly Acquatainian colonel, and jostling through the new arrivals to get to Geri Dulaq.