Her husband looked innocuous enough in his own fashion choices. From what Tal had heard, it was possible he didn’t want to compound the error he had made in marrying Elizabeth Mard.
She said now, “Of course, we all understand that you asked for the invitation.” Her smile remained wide and fixed as she spoke.
Fischer and the Duke both looked annoyed. She smoothed her skirt and let her bracelet jingle pleasantly.
Duke Peter said, “And we’re pleased that you honor us by accepting.” He spared a brief glare for his sister, whose zombie-smile did not waver.
While the Duke and Fischer exchanged the required pleasantries, Tal scanned the assembly. Far down the false beach, long past the true ending of the room, a black stallion played in the surf. From the Arbrith coat-of-arms, he remembered. No doubt there were state security people on hand in the group here; no doubt, too, Republican agents were present. Perhaps that plump herald was one—there was something off about her accent when she spoke. Still, for all he knew, nine-tenths of the people attending were on the Baret One payroll, and as long as he was careful, what was it to him?
Empire nobility and servants, mainly … some prosperous looking traders … his gaze stopped suddenly. The sector-gate must have opened recently. What were Elaphites doing here? He stared at the golden couple across the room, sharers of half his biological heritage. Without warning the male met his eyes, and Tal resisted a sudden urge to turn and face the wall.
Elaphites. He had never liked them, never gotten along with diem. Humans fell all over themselves catering to the golden people, rhapsodizing about their appearance, their manners, their good nature. Their eyes.
Their stupid yellow eyes that were supposed to be so gentle, so compassionate, so insightful—
They were a waste of evolution. Never had he met a species more pointless and ineffectual—he forced himself to move his gaze onward.
Consider the crowd. Think. What do they tell you about the pattern of things here? More aliens, over near the dais. A family of Tamatri, continually spraying each other with water. Well, they didn’t look much like Republican agents, anyway. Besides, while the Republic claimed to welcome all species, it was pretty well known they only trusted fellow humans. And not even them, really.
The sector-gate open. What factors did that bring in? The connections from Baret Station were Tubol, Bakanadanaraka—no point in even thinking about them, they had nothing to say to humanoids—Limis Three and Four, and Carthenat, a hub with twenty-three routine connection points. Tubol and Limis, being in the same sector as a hub, would be prosperous, industrialized places; being one gate away from a hub was enough to make Baret System a relative backwater. Being two gates away would mean a frontier world, overlooked or even forgotten by the mainstream of Empire/Republic life. Adrian claimed the Three Cities picked up a fair amount of trade from the forgotten worlds; it was the advantage, perhaps the only one, of bypassing the gates.
What were Elaphites doing on Baret Two? Possibly they were from Carthenat; hubs often had a diversity of population. Anyway, there was no reason to think they had anything to do with him. No reason to think of them at all.
He brought his attention back to the dais, where Fischer was winding things up with the Duke. Peter and Elizabeth, good Redemptionist names. Did the masses not really care that their rulers were “Blood-Christians?” Not that they let it stand in their way, apparently. The tiny blue box attached to Duke Peter’s chest showed that he was under a medical monitor, a technology forbidden in the Cities.
Fischer bowed and withdrew from the dais, followed by the rest of the trade team. Everyone seemed to be breaking up and heading for the food spread out on tables around the edge of the room … or knee-deep in the surf, depending on how you looked at it. Tal noticed that the Elaphites seemed happy to stay on their side of the room; good. The male picked up a small silver fish and fed it to the female. Everyone around them seemed to find it a charming thing to do.
He found himself near the chief herald. At this range, the lines in her face were even more pronounced. Her hair was in a little bun on top of her head. She had filled a great goblet with the local wine they called “tiko” and at this particular moment she was gazing intently at the smoked fish, as though the table held the mystery of the universe. Tal walked closer and said, “Herald? Excuse me, herald, but I’m a commoner of the Cities.”
Knowing now the way to address him, she turned at once with a smile. “Thank you, cyr, for your consideration. May I recommend this fish to you? It’s native-derived, and excellent with hard bread and a bit of cheese.”
“Thank you, but I’m going out for dinner later. In fact, it’s about that that I’d like to consult you.”
“Ah! You’ll find no better tour advice, I assure you. I know the pleasures better than a native, for I came here myself from Tubol not five standard years ago, and I’ve tried all the places one should try.”
“Yes, I thought you might not be native-born.”
She seemed briefly surprised.
