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"The principalities," blurted Antaea. "It's a little shop in Gehellen--"

"We don't like Gehellen," interrupted Venera. "Or, at any rate, Gehellen doesn't like us."

Leal cleared her throat impatiently. "My lord, my lady, I am Leal Maspeth of the nation of Abyss. I've come to you with important news, and I've brought this woman, whom you know, to testify on my behalf."

Chaison looked down his nose at her; it was a rather priggish motion, but the sabre hadn't moved. "The last time I met Antaea Argyre, she trussed me up like a festival bird ready for the oven."

Patience, patience. The sun lighter Hayden Griffin had only praise for this admiral, Leal reminded herself--and he had told her that Venera Fanning was one of the most dangerous people he'd ever met. Coming from a man who had spent his adolescence among pirates, that was a recommendation to be borne in mind.

"My name is Leal Hieronyma Maspeth," she repeated. "I am a historian from Abyss, which is one of the sunless countries. Recently I spent some time outside of Virga, and the ... people I visited have news and an offer of an alliance for the people of Virga."

She'd said it all matter-of-factly, but how else was she going to do it? Months of rehearsal had yielded no better words.

And they seemed to have taken hold: Chaison Fanning was staring at her, his blade quite forgotten, and his wife was frowning, looking from Leal to Antaea and back again.

"Who are these people and what is this offer?" The admiral walked to a side table and poured himself a glass of water. He did not offer his guests anything, a tiny but pointed warning.

"There is a force that we sometimes call 'Artificial Nature,'" said Leal. "One of its factions is trying to gain access to Virga--actually, it's trying to get to Candesce at Virga's center. Lord and Lady Fanning, you have both had direct experience of its tactics and amoral nature." Chaison Fanning had been kidnapped and tortured by an agent from A.N.--a being that had taken up residence in the body of Antaea's sister, Telen. Venera Fanning had fought against another agent of A.N. inside the sun of suns itself and had later been pursued through the principalities by others. Neither could know--no one in Virga seemed to know--that there were factions within A.N. The emissary's claim that it was the virtuals who were responsible for the attempted incursions would be news to the Fannings, and vitally important news.

"The virtuals are preparing an all-out assault on Virga," Leal continued. "As long as Virga keeps A.N. out, our world stands as an example to others who resist final assimilation by their system. Those resisters have banded together, and they want to ally with the humans of Virga to defeat the virtuals, or at least to push them back."

Fanning squinted at her. "Interesting..."

"Not to mention preposterous. And why tell us?" Venera was swishing her sabre at her side in an unconscious but dangerous way. "Isn't this a message for the Home Guard?"

"It would be, yes," said Leal. "That would be why we're here."

Chaison put down his glass and walked up to Antaea. "Would that be why you're here?" he asked her.

She nodded. "The Guard has been deceived by the virtuals. It's not the first time--"

"How do we know it's not you who's been deceived? You come to us with offers of an alliance--with who? If they're friendly, why are they sending messengers instead of coming to us themselves?"

"The morphonts did come to us," said Leal. "Virga proved to be too toxic for them to survive here. That's why I had to leave, to visit them in their own airs. Anyway, if you don't believe me, maybe you'll believe Hayden Griffin?"

The Fannings exchanged a glance. "How's he involved in this?"

"He can confirm my story," said Leal, "he and a few top-ranking members of the Guard he's currently trapped with. Even if I'm wrong, I'm offering you the chance to rescue Griffin, which alone would be a feat with great propaganda value to Slipstream.... Considering your new relationship with Griffin's country, Aerie."

Antaea tilted her head, looking puzzled. "Which begs a question. Why are you two here, and not at the big party?"

"We'd be a bad memory," said the admiral with a shrug. "Can't say I disagree.... What do you mean, rescue Griffin? Trapped? How's he trapped?"

"That's a very long story," said Leal.

"Let's hear it."

Venera tapped Chaison's ankle with her sabre.

"Well," said Leal, "I suppose it all started the day a great voice began crying in the darkness beyond the city lights..."

Venera rapped Chaison's shin again. She made to do it a third time, but his blade was suddenly in the way.

"Dear," said Venera sweetly, "why don't we invite the nice people over for dinner? I think that would be the best time for lengthy stories, don't you?"

"No," he said, "I want to hear this now--"

Venera's sabre slid along his and nearly disarmed him.

The Fannings took a step away from each other as their swords came up.

"Really," said Chaison, "if this is as important as it sounds--"

She lunged and he bounced away. "Venera..."

"They've come a long way," she said, punctuating her words with casual cuts at his head, "and they're very tired. It would be impolite not to offer them some food and refreshments." She broke off, turned to Leal, and said, "Shall we say six o'clock? The admiralty staff can direct you to our apartments."

"Six o'clock would be fine," said Leal as she, too, backed away.

"Now really--" Chaison moved to intercept Leal, and Venera interposed herself, blade up. The two began to circle one another warily.

"Until six, then..." Leal waved for Antaea to follow her--Argyre was staring at Chaison Fanning--and she drew her out into the hall and closed the door even as the sound of clashing blades started up in earnest.

11

"YOU'RE TELLING ME that this terrible news is not true?" Antonin Kestrel, the unlikely prime minister of Slipstream's new government, glared up and down the table. "That it's a lie?"

Leal Maspeth nodded at the prime minister, who sat at the head of the table in Chaison Fanning's surprisingly small dining room. "He was alive when I left him," she said. "The stories out of Abyss are simply untrue."

"But why should we believe you, and not the government of Abyss?"

"Because," she said with a winning smile, "I know where he is. We can pick him up and you can ask him yourself whether he's alive."

From its position ringed by empty dishes, water jugs, and bottles in the center of the table, Leal's now-inert doll watched Kestrel curse and rub his lean chin.

Leal kept glancing at the doll while she talked--whether in embarrassment, or in hope that it might rise and speak, Keir couldn't tell. It faced Kestrel as a strange kind of centerpiece; flanking Kestrel down the sides of the table were Leal, the Fannings, Antaea, and Keir, who felt as out of place as the doll.

Part of that was feeling underdressed; they'd had only a day to prepare for this meeting, and so he wore the livery of a junior naval officer, minus any badge of rank or affiliation. The admiral himself was in a white dress uniform that looked carved rather than sewn. Antaea Argyre, whom Keir had seen before only in leather and trousers, was displaying her cleavage in a gold gown. The dress was gorgeous, but she obviously wasn't comfortable in it; here, Venera had her outclassed. The admiral's wife had squeezed into a long slinky black number made of a material so thin that Keir found his eyes drifting despite himself to trace every muscle and curve of her glorious body. She awoke something buried in him, a startling excitement; but he had no time to think about it right now.

Compared with the other women, Leal Maspeth looked dowdy in brown slacks and a white top. Dresses and skirts were admittedly rare in Virga (in some countries, he'd heard, only prostitutes would wear an article of clothing that was so revealing in freefall). While Slipstream clearly allowed them, Maspeth was just as clearly not used to seeing them, much less wearing one. She, too, kept surreptitiously goggling at Venera and Antaea.