been hostile, in which case he could have cleared a path very quickly indeed.
The sailors in the crowd were already dodging away when the
Piet Ricimer had turned from the group of town and guild officials inside the station when he heard the shout. 'Stephen?' he said. He blinked in pleased wonder. 'Stephen!'
'I went to the tailor my uncle recommended in Ishtar City,' Stephen said in embarrassment. 'He decided brighter colors would 'soften the image,' as he put it. I feel like an idiot.'
Piet laughed melodiously. 'Nothing in this world or the next is going to make you look soft, my friend,' he said. 'But you look very striking indeed.'
When Stephen Gregg consulted an expert, he abided by the expert's advice; a courtesy he expected from others when they asked
The only part of the outfit he'd refused was the holstered pistol. 'Just for show,' the court tailor had explained.
Stephen didn't wear weapons just for show.
Piet squeezed his elbow. 'Glad you made it,' he said. 'I'd hate to greet Councilor Bruckshaw without my right arm present.'
Air rammed hissing through the station ahead of the train warned of the Councilor's arrival. Intercommunity travel on Venus had been by subsurface electric trains as far back as the first pre-Collapse colonies.
Within communities-even Ishtar City, the largest by far, with a population climbing above 200,000 souls in the past decade-people walked. Corridors cut with difficulty through the planetary crust were too narrow for vehicular traffic. Wealthy folk who thought to ignore the laws as a form of ostentation found themselves overturned within minutes. The mob accepted class distinctions, but it had a firm grasp also of the distinction between citizen and slave.
The train sighed to a halt, then settled with a
Staff members, ordered by precedence, walked behind their chiefs in more-than-military order. Each councilor had a good dozen folk in his entourage. The first man out of the train behind Duneen was Jeremy Moore, Factor Moore of Rhadicund, and an old shipmate of Piet and Stephen.
Piet strode forward and made a full bow. 'Councilors,' he said, 'you honor Betaport with your presence. Please permit me and the chief men of our community to guide you to your destination.'
With Stephen to his right and the Betaport magnates falling in behind, Piet Ricimer walked out of the train station. Four of the
A cheer greeted Piet and Stephen. When the councilors came out of the station a moment later, a claque of carefully briefed sailors bellowed, '
Piet leaned close to Stephen's ear and whispered, 'After this, I don't think the commander will doubt the loyal willingness of Betaport to accept the decisions of Governor Halys.'
'I don't think he'll doubt the loyalty of Betaport's first citizen, either,' Stephen whispered in reply. 'How do you like the red carpet?'
'
'Excellent quality,' Piet said. 'I wasn't expecting anything more than a roll of cloth. How much do I owe you?'
Stephen chuckled. 'I pointed out to Haskins of Haskins Furnishings that he could double the new price to every social climber in Beta Regio-and
'Where would I be without you, Stephen?' Piet murmured. His smile drooped slightly, unintentionally.
'Long life to Commander Bruckshaw!'
It was seven blocks from the train station to the Blue Rose Tavern across from the transfer docks. The tavern had been Piet Ricimer's unofficial headquarters since the days he was an ambitious teenager, mate on an intrasystem trader.
The first wealth from Piet's successful voyages had bought him a ship of his own, but the next stage of his climb was Betaport real estate. He'd bought the ground lease of the Blue Rose before even buying a house for himself. The front room was still a working tavern, but the back and upper floor of the building had become the center of Betaport's operations against President Pleyal and those who would support his tyranny.
Piet had raised a meter-high temporary dais in front of the Blue Rose. He paused at the steps, bowed again, and gestured the governor's councilors to precede him onto it. The Wraths made sure that none of the Betaport magnates tried to increase their dignity by hopping up with the three principals. As for the councilors' staff members-many of them courtiers of high rank themselves-Stephen Gregg stood at the base of the steps, grinning, and no one at all tried to push past him.
'People of Betaport!' Commander Bruckshaw said. He had a high, reedy voice, which nonetheless carried well across the packed street. 'Free citizens of Venus!'
The immediate crowd quieted. The sough of folk more distant, chopped to verbal silage by the twists and corners of the corridors, continued as it always did in the cities of Venus.
'I appreciate the honor her excellency the governor did in appointing me commander of her fleet,' Bruckshaw continued, 'as I appreciate the honor you have done me on my arrival. I know as well as you do that there's a great deal I have yet to learn about crushing the tyrant Pleyal's minions in space, however.'
Bruckshaw had an ascetically handsome face. The commander didn't look to be a terribly dynamic personality, but there was no lack of firmness and authority in his countenance. Not only was he a cousin to Governor Halys, members of Bruckshaw's direct lineage had in their own right been powerful figures on Venus for all the thousand years since the Collapse.
'I know also that there are no folk better able to teach me how to pay out the Federation than the sailors of Betaport can,' Bruckshaw said, 'and the-'
The roar of bloodthirsty triumph from the crowd drowned even the thought of intelligible speech. Bruckshaw and Duneen smiled; Piet Ricimer beamed like a floodlight on the people of the community that raised him.
Bruckshaw raised both hands for silence, still smiling. When the cheers muted to a dull rumble he resumed. 'The sailors of Betaport, and the greatest space captain of all time, Factor Ricimer of Porcelain!'
The roar this time made even the previous cheers seem puny. Only the hoarseness of minutes of unrestrained shouting brought the silence for which the commander gestured again.
'In appreciation of Factor Ricimer's unequaled skills and his former services to the Free State of Venus. .' Bruckshaw said.
He paused. Councilor Duneen stepped forward, holding a box inlaid with wood and nacre imported to Venus at obvious expense. Duneen opened the case. Bruckshaw removed a necklace from which depended a porcelain medallion in the form of Venus seen in partial eclipse: Governor Halys' crest.
'. . I have appointed Factor Ricimer as my deputy commander,' Bruckshaw said, draping the necklace over Piet's head. 'He will be my closest advisor, as he has been for so many years the greatest enemy of Federation tyranny!'
The three men on the dais raised their hands together, Piet between the two councilors. They ducked quickly and slipped into the Blue Rose to plan the defeat of the Federation armada that would surely destroy Venus as a free society if they failed.
As Stephen Gregg followed the chiefs through the familiar door of the Blue Rose, he wondered if President Pleyal's officers had ever heard a sound to compare with the cheering. The walls of living rock trembled to the roar.
