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Authors: Scott Westerfeld
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headed toward her. The purpose on his face was unmistakable. He gripped his champagne glass with all five fingers, as if it were a club, and his eyes locked hers.
A group of officers had surrounded him since his arrival, cutting him off from the rest of the party in a display of protectiveness, and perhaps pride that one of theirs had been elevated so young. The handlers in Nara Oxham's secondary audio listed names and academy years as she moved an eyemouse across their faces. All were older than Zai. Senator-Elect Oxham suspected that their claim on him was newly minted; the hero of Dhantu would make a fine addition to their clique.
For some reason, though, Zai had moved to extract himself from their attentions. The young lieutenant-commander almost stumbled as he left them behind, as if pulling his feet from some invisible tangleweed on the marble floor. Nara Oxham fingered her apathy wristband ruefully. She would love to feel what was going on in Zai's mind, but the party was too crowded to dare a lower dosage.
Oxham's entourage parted slightly to admit the young officer.
Although the senator's empathic powers were currently suppressed, for most of her life she'd been able to compare facial expressions with what her extra sense told her. Even with the wristband at full strength, she was extraordinarily perceptive. When Lieutenant-Commander Zai stood before her, she could see that he didn't know what to say.
Vadan greeting, she subvocalized.
Five appropriate salutations appeared in synesthesia, but in a flash of instinct, Nara ignored them all.
"You don't look very happy, Lieutenant-Commander Zai."
He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Turned back.
"I'm not used to crowds, ma'am" he said.
Nara smiled at the honorific. He must be without a handler to have used ma'am instead of excellency. How did the Navy ever win wars, she wondered, when they couldn't manage a cocktail party?
"Stand here by the column," she said. She held her glass up to the light. "There's a certain security in having one's back covered, don't you think, Lieutenant-Commander?"
"Sound military thinking, Senator-Elect," he answered, finally smiling back at her.
So at least he knew her rank. But her politics?
"These columns are stronger than they look," she said. "Each is a single diamond, grown in an orbital carbon whisketter."
His eyes arched up, no doubt considering their mass. Making huge diamonds was easy in orbit. But getting an object that big down the gravity well safely—now that was a feat of engineering. Oxham held her glass of champagne up to the light.
"Have you noticed, Lieutenant-Commander, that the shape of the glasses matches the column's fluting?"
He looked at his own glass. "No, Excellency, I hadn't."
Excellency, now. The officer's etiquette training was kicking in. Did that mean she had made him comfortable enough to remember his manners? Or was he feeling her rank?
"But I suppose I personify the analogy," he continued. "I had begun to feel rather like a bubble floating aimlessly. Thank you for offering a safe haven, Senator-Elect."
Out of the corner of one eye, Oxham had watched the rest of the officers in Zai's group. With a glance here, a hand on a shoulder there, they were spreading the news of Zai's defection. Now, an older man of captain's rank was watching. Was he headed over to rescue the young lieutenant-commander from the Mad Senator?
Captain Marcus Fentu Masrui, Elevated, Oxham's handlers informed her. Nonpolitical as far as we know.
Nara raised an eyebrow. Nothing human was nonpolitical.
"I'm not sure how much of a haven you've found, Lieutenant-Commander." She let her attention over Zai's shoulder become obvious. "Your friends seem disturbed."
Zai glanced down at one of his shoulders, as if arresting a turn of his head back toward the officers. Then his eyes met hers again.
"I'm not sure about that, ma'am."
"They certainly look upset." Captain Masrui was still hovering nearby, unwilling to
A group of officers had surrounded him since his arrival, cutting him off from the rest of the party in a display of protectiveness, and perhaps pride that one of theirs had been elevated so young. The handlers in Nara Oxham's secondary audio listed names and academy years as she moved an eyemouse across their faces. All were older than Zai. Senator-Elect Oxham suspected that their claim on him was newly minted; the hero of Dhantu would make a fine addition to their clique.
For some reason, though, Zai had moved to extract himself from their attentions. The young lieutenant-commander almost stumbled as he left them behind, as if pulling his feet from some invisible tangleweed on the marble floor. Nara Oxham fingered her apathy wristband ruefully. She would love to feel what was going on in Zai's mind, but the party was too crowded to dare a lower dosage.
Oxham's entourage parted slightly to admit the young officer.
Although the senator's empathic powers were currently suppressed, for most of her life she'd been able to compare facial expressions with what her extra sense told her. Even with the wristband at full strength, she was extraordinarily perceptive. When Lieutenant-Commander Zai stood before her, she could see that he didn't know what to say.
Vadan greeting, she subvocalized.
Five appropriate salutations appeared in synesthesia, but in a flash of instinct, Nara ignored them all.
"You don't look very happy, Lieutenant-Commander Zai."
He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Turned back.
"I'm not used to crowds, ma'am" he said.
Nara smiled at the honorific. He must be without a handler to have used ma'am instead of excellency. How did the Navy ever win wars, she wondered, when they couldn't manage a cocktail party?
"Stand here by the column," she said. She held her glass up to the light. "There's a certain security in having one's back covered, don't you think, Lieutenant-Commander?"
"Sound military thinking, Senator-Elect," he answered, finally smiling back at her.
So at least he knew her rank. But her politics?
"These columns are stronger than they look," she said. "Each is a single diamond, grown in an orbital carbon whisketter."
His eyes arched up, no doubt considering their mass. Making huge diamonds was easy in orbit. But getting an object that big down the gravity well safely—now that was a feat of engineering. Oxham held her glass of champagne up to the light.
"Have you noticed, Lieutenant-Commander, that the shape of the glasses matches the column's fluting?"
He looked at his own glass. "No, Excellency, I hadn't."
Excellency, now. The officer's etiquette training was kicking in. Did that mean she had made him comfortable enough to remember his manners? Or was he feeling her rank?
"But I suppose I personify the analogy," he continued. "I had begun to feel rather like a bubble floating aimlessly. Thank you for offering a safe haven, Senator-Elect."
Out of the corner of one eye, Oxham had watched the rest of the officers in Zai's group. With a glance here, a hand on a shoulder there, they were spreading the news of Zai's defection. Now, an older man of captain's rank was watching. Was he headed over to rescue the young lieutenant-commander from the Mad Senator?
Captain Marcus Fentu Masrui, Elevated, Oxham's handlers informed her. Nonpolitical as far as we know.
Nara raised an eyebrow. Nothing human was nonpolitical.
"I'm not sure how much of a haven you've found, Lieutenant-Commander." She let her attention over Zai's shoulder become obvious. "Your friends seem disturbed."
Zai glanced down at one of his shoulders, as if arresting a turn of his head back toward the officers. Then his eyes met hers again.
"I'm not sure about that, ma'am."
"They certainly look upset." Captain Masrui was still hovering nearby, unwilling to
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