"All right, we have a minute," Ariel said. "Do you have any questions about protocol? Have you been to any Spacer functions?"
Coren set aside his growing distraction. "Um…when I worked for Special Service, there were occasions, but I've never been a guest. "
Ariel nodded. "I have no idea yet what the occasion for this dinner is, but I have no doubt several guests will be recording it. This will be a working dinner, so business will be done. Not openly, not blatantly, but arrangements will be made. There's a hierarchy which you'll pick up on as the evening progresses. Who sits where at the table, who is served what kind of drink, even who gets to go home for the evening with whom-all this is a matter of protocol and negotiation. Don't argue with anyone. Prod, suggest, imply, insinuate-that's not only allowable but expected. Anything but an open disagreement. Follow my lead."
"Anyone I should be particularly wary of?"
"Gale Chassik, the Solarian ambassador. He has allies who mayor may not be sifting for information for him. The Keresians, for one. "
"Gale Chassik…I've come across that name recently."
"So have I. He's involved in Nova Levis."
"Uh-huh."
"Both of them, I believe. The colony and the lab."
Coren blinked at her. "The lab?"
"It's in the disk," Ariel said, smiling. "I've been doing a little homework. Anyway, one other you should know about. Jonis Taprin will be there."
"Senator Taprin?" Coren frowned. "That could be awkward."
"Don't worry about him using your presence there against Looms. Terrans will resign office before admitting to petitioning Spacers. He sees you there, he'll be more worried that you'll use it. If you do, then he'll retaliate, but in my experience it's automatic detente."
"Why is Taprin going to be there?"
Ariel smirked. "Looking for favors, sifting for data. Even the most rabidly anti-Spacer politician, if he or she is at all intelligent, knows that Earth can't do without us. The trade with the Settler colonies is too important to risk losing our shipping fleets as subcontractors. Besides, there's the implicit threat of blockade. Earth also isn't out there with the Settlers; we are. If there's to be any kind of control-"
"There are Terran fleets," Coren interrupted. "We aren't all cloistered agoraphobics."
"Compared to the Fifty Worlds, Earth's presence is a token. You can blockade one world, maybe two, cause enough damage to upset the balance of power, but…" She let it hang like that. Then: "In any case, exercise discretion and say nothing about baleys. That's nothing but a sore point among all of us. If it comes up, I'll deal with it."
"Why did you ask me here?"
"Efficiency. Setaris is playing a game and I don't know what it is yet. I haven't exactly been in favor this last year. Now all of a sudden I'm being asked to embassy fetes again. You 'II act as a wild card in the game. Accompanying me will suggest a lot to them. "
"And explain nothing."
"Exactly. Then afterward we can talk about our-we're here."
Coren had not noticed the car slowing. The door slid aside and let them out in a wide arcade.
The air smelled different. Coren slowed as he neared the edge of the overhang, sensing the change before he saw anything.
Through a dimly-seen parkland with slim trees and thick grass, light came from the residence, warmly tracing the outlines of the intervening flora. The sounds of conversation, occasional laughter, and the nearly overwhelming rhythm of music drifted, muted, toward him.
He forced his hands to unclench and stepped from beneath the shelter.
A breeze brushed his face.
He took a dozen steps and looked up.
Stars salted the night sky, and for an instant he caught his breath. They seemed so close that they formed a roof as solid as the urban shell beneath which he had lived all his life. Far more beautiful, though, and he understood why people wanted them, wanted to go to them, even why they wanted to see this same view from other worlds. There was certainly nothing to fear.
Between one step and the next, leaves fluttered in the comer of his vision and his perspective changed. Abruptly all of above became an infinity into which he felt he might fall.
Coren jerked his gaze to the ground, shuddered briefly, and made himself look only at the light ahead. Ariel had stopped halfway across the grass, waiting for him. He walked stolidly toward the party, pleased that he had not reclenched his fists. Ariel smoothly took his arm, and they continued on together. He touched his face, and his fingers came away dry.
Good. He stepped from grass to flagstone. He risked one more quick glimpse skyward. The light around him occluded the view of stars and he relaxed.
He blinked at the startlingly clothed people.
The styles ranged from strips and patches of fabric that barely covered, and often intentionally failed to cover, to blousy, opaque suits that seemed large enough for two people. The dance of color, shift of cloth and skin, the moil of distinct tastes from several cultures somehow blent into a single attribute: Spacer.
Even the Terrans dressed in one or another Spacer fashion, though they still stuck out. Coren thought he knew why: Terrans dressed for personal status while Spacers dressed purely for personal taste. On a Spacer, the quality and expense of the clothing said nothing of their place in the hierarchy, which kept Terrans continually unable to rank them on sight-something Terrans did among themselves habitually.
"Coren."
He followed his name and found Ariel looking at him. She stood with three people: two Spacers, the other Terran. He recognized the Terran.
"Coren," Ariel said, taking his arm, "may I introduce Ambassador Sen Setaris of Aurora."
Coren bowed slightly and Setaris returned it. She was Spacer tall and austerely attractive, her hair glowing white around a seamless face. She could be fifty, or one hundred and fifty for all that Coren could tell.
"Welcome, Mr. Lanra," she said. "I trust you aren't in any distress?"
"No, thank you. I'm fine."
"Good. Make yourself comfortable, this is an informal gathering. Should you wish, my house is open. "
"I appreciate that, Ambassador."
"And this, " Ariel moved on, "is Ambassador Gale Chassik of Solaria. "
Chassik looked very different from Setaris. Heavier, dressed in the thick Solarian manner, his head was nearly smooth. He smiled broadly and the lines in his face were deep. Coren began to extend his hand, then remembered the Solarian aversion to being touched. He bowed again.
"Ambassador."
"Pleased, Mr. Lanra. It's good to see Ariel out of her shell again. We've missed her."
Ariel smiled. "I've missed you, as well." She turned to the Terran. "And this is Senator Jonis Taprin of Earth."
"I recognize the Senator, of course," Coren said, extending his hand. "How do you do, sir. "
Taprin was pale and middle-aged, lines in his forehead qualitatively different from those in Chassik's. He was thin and nearly as tall as Setaris. He clasped Coren 's hand. "This must be an unusual occasion for you, Mr. Lanra. I understood you worked for Rega Looms. "
"That's true, sir."
"What would he think of you consorting with Spacers?" Taprin grinned at Chassik and Setaris, including them in the joke.
"No more than he would of you doing so, Senator," Coren said.
The Spacers laughed softly. Coren noticed the quick resentment in Taprin 's eyes, gone just as quickly.
"Honestly, though," Coren said, "I'm here at Ambassador Burgess's invitation. I'm currently on leave from Mr. Looms' service. "
"Isn't that unusual?" Chassik asked. "You are his chief of security, are you not?"
"I am. But I have very capable people handling his day-to-day operations. On the road as he is, I have to look after the home office. But even I get a few days off from time to time."
More polite laughter.
"Enjoy yourself, Mr. Lanra," Setaris said. "If you'll excuse Ariel and me…?"
Setaris took Ariel's arm and the two drifted off.
"Ambassador Setaris sets a marvelous table," Chassik said. "The buffet should not be missed." He gestured toward a long table near the entrance to the house.