that we all want to believe that someone, somewhere, is free, even if that person is grinding our own freedom into the muck. Because the alternative is that no one, anywhere, is free--and do you really think you could live with that?' She looked up. 'Ah! I happen to be good at this dance. Surely one of these handsome officers will take a turn with me.'
She left, and Antaea saw that Hayden had been watching them. She walked away herself, not seeing the gardens, the azure sky and dancers. Half-consciously, she reached up to unclip the locket that hung around her neck. She hefted its tiny weight in her hand.
In it were two tiny photos of her sister, Telen. The first showed her in happy times. The second, hidden behind it, showed Telen tied to a chair, bruised and apparently terrified. Gonlin had given it to Antaea, as proof of the leverage he had over her.
She couldn't hate Gonlin. He'd had the best of intentions. He'd felt he had to do what he did in order to save the world.
So did Leal Maspeth.
She stopped, holding the locket, and searched the dancers until she spotted Maspeth. The former history tutor was dancing with Chaison; seeing that, Antaea's mouth thinned, and she turned and took a shadowed and empty path away from the light and music, and everyone she knew.
* * *
CHAISON FANNING WAS being very polite to Leal, and she couldn't fault his dancing; but she knew he was angry. As they stepped across the floor he kept glancing at one edge of the crowd, where Inshiri Ferance posed with a glass in her hand. She was laughing gaily with a bevy of courtiers.
The admiral stumbled, and stopped for a moment. Leal hesitated, lifting her hand from his shoulder, but then he scowled and took up the dance again.
'Admiral...' she ventured.
'A talking tree?' He glared at her. 'A four-pawed statue? Travis said they walked and talked outside of Virga, but if they're not going to do that here, what good are they?'
She ducked her head. 'They want us to meet them at the walls--'
'That's not going to happen!' He tripped again but recovered and spun her around, rather roughly. 'Maspeth, I've risked everything on your say-so. Not just my career, but the reputation of my people, my country's relationship not just with Aerie but all these states--and my...' His fingers tightened around her hand.
The day had swung one way and another like an off-balance town wheel. It was a miracle that so many nations had sent delegates at all, but their overall level of skepticism had been high, and hadn't come down by nightfall. Many of the delegates had to get over centuries of myth-based prejudice about what the greater universe was like, and, despite the best efforts of Hayden and Lacerta, many still refused to believe Leal's story. Nicolas Remoran's tale and his appeal for a simple change to Candesce had irrevocably won over half the crowd; and Inshiri Ferance was openly mocking the whole affair.
'You promised that your allies would back us up,' said Fanning. 'Instead, they've delivered us a practical joke. It's a disaster, Maspeth, and I don't see how we're going to recover from it.'
'Travis brought documents, too, didn't he? They wrote us books...' In fact, it was Gallard, Keir's old friend from Brink, who'd brought the books. He and Keir had sat together and talked intensely for an hour; afterward, Keir had told Leal that Gallard and Maerta were worried about him. 'It's the neotenization process,' he'd told her. 'Apparently they ran some sims, and they think ... well, they say if I stay in Virga, it's going to kill me.'
After Loll's arrival and the stresses of the day, that news had just been too much for Leal; Keir had become an anchor for her. Without him she felt adrift, nationless. So, she didn't protest now when Fanning said, 'Books? Those books are so technical it'll take us years to decipher them. And anyway, a book proves nothing.'
Was Keir going to leave? Virga had seemed to amaze and delight him at every turn; would he be the same person if he left, or would he revert to the child he'd been when she'd met him?
Immersed in these thoughts, she barely heard the admiral going on about how the whole emissary visit could be just some sort of elaborate hoax--until his voice trailed off. She snapped back to attention. He was staring at something over her shoulder.
As they spun, Leal followed his gaze. A man in a naval uniform was speaking urgently into Inshiri Ferance's ear. For the first time all day, she wore a frown. Then, as the officer continued to speak, she glanced at the dance floor. --At Chaison Fanning and Leal.
Then she was gone in a swirl of silks, and up and down the crowd, her whole entourage could be seen breaking off their conversations and fading into the crowd.
Leal and Chaison stopped dancing. Without a glance at Leal Chaison walked quickly to where a knot of Slipstream uniforms was working its way through the crowd. Leal followed, her heart suddenly pounding.
'What's going on?' he demanded of his men. A panting airman in flying leathers leaned on one of the tables; as Fanning strode up he straightened and saluted.
'Two of our ships docking at the axis, sir. They're the
Leal put her hand to her mouth. Those were the escorts for Venera's yacht. But where was ...
'The
'Apparently they've been trying to shake pursuit and spent the past few days hiding in a sargasso. They just managed to shake whoever it was and get here--'
'Ferance!' snapped Fanning. 'She's trying to sneak away, damn it, stop her and her people from leaving.' Two men took off at a run. 'And locate the Abyssals as well,' he added to another officer. 'I'm just about ready to imprison the whole damn lot of them.'
'Sir, our territorial agreement--'
'Then get me the prime minister! Damn it, man, it's my wife!'
