Berry was chuckling now. "Can't even accuse you of adopting wayward orphans from God-knows-where. Been done."
"Which only leaves attacking the Captain directly," concluded the princess. "And that's more than a bit dicey, as a certain Manpower-financed raiding party discovered not too long ago. Although if you were going to try again, I suppose it'd make sense to finagle him out from behind his normal security. Draw him into unknown territory."
Anton shook his head. "Not all that much sense. Outside of Manticore itself-or Terra, where I still have lots of contacts-Smoking Frog is the last place you'd want to try to pull any stunts with me."
The blank look on the girls' faces made Anton realize he'd left something unsaid.
"Oh, sorry. Forgot. The lieutenant's link leads to Smoking Frog, in the Solarian League's Maya Sector. That's where whoever Lady North Hollow was then had her Komandorski identity created. Makes sense, when you think about it. Smoking Frog's a technically advanced planet. Their bio-sculptors are as good as any in the galaxy, except possibly those on Terra itself or Beowulf."
Ruth was still puzzled. "But I still don't see why it wouldn't make a good place to ambush you."
Du Havel chuckled. Anton glanced at him and said: "You explain it to her, Web."
The academic's smile had a grim feel to it. "It would make a terrible place to try to get rough with Anton-given his close ties with the Audubon Ballroom. There's no planet in the galaxy that has more Ballroom members living on it than Smoking Frog. Not even Terra, since Barregos became governor. The moment Anton arrives, he can provide himself with a bodyguard that nobody will want to fool with."
He shrugged. "Escaped slaves need somewhere to go, and there's always someplace that-for its own reasons-makes itself a refuge. Partly out of ideological commitment, but as much as anything simply to stick it to whichever establishment has irritated them. Barregos and Mesa are public enemies, so Barregos has nothing to lose by turning Maya Sector in general and Smoking Frog in particular into the modern equivalent of Boston at the end of the Underground Railroad."
"What's a Boston?" asked Berry. She pressed hands to her temples. "My head hurts."
Anton saw the princess hesitate, and realized that she'd seen the next variant quite clearly.
"Well, yes," he said, his deep voice harsher than usual. "The most likelyalternative-this'll be Ruth's 'third'-is that someone is trying to lure someone with me to Smoking Frog. It wouldn't be as easy for me to protect a companion as it is to protect myself."
Still holding her head in her hands, Berry began to shake it. "That doesn't make sense, Daddy. Sure, I'm your daughter now, but nobody's got a grudge-oh."
Her head popped up; her face turning to Ruth. "It's you they're after!"
The princess shrugged. "Who knows? But-yes-I think that's the most logical explanation." She turned to Anton. "Am I right?"
"Yes and no." His hand motion, this time, consisted of wiggling fingers. "You're right as far as it goes. But…"
He tried to figure out the best way to explain it. "You're good, Princess. Very good. But you're still young and suffer from the classic young agent's syndrome. Things make too much sense to you. You trust logic too much, which means you'll wind up oversimplifying in order to make things make sense. If you see what I mean."
He almost laughed. A young witch, frowning; wondering why her old crone of a mentor insisted on using messy bat's ears and toad's blood when the grimoire plainly said-
"Just trust me on this one, girl. The universe is a lot messier and murkier than you think it is. Logic's a good habit to develop, but don't trust it too far. It's a wild and dangerous animal, unless it's muzzled and leashed by facts. Of which-"
He planted hands on knees and sat up straight. "Of which, we don't have enough yet. So here's what we're going to do: I will go to Smoking Frog-this lead is just too potentially valuable to pass up-but you,both of you, will stay here on Erewhon." He glanced at the door, beyond which the Queen's Own stood guard. "Between them, and Erewhon's own security forces, you should be safe enough. Unless someone is prepared to risk a major diplomatic incident-and I can't see why anyone would-you ought to be safe enough until I get back."
Berry and Ruth exchanged looks. Clearly enough, warring impulses were at work. On the one hand, no youngsters with any spunk at all wouldn't enjoy the prospect of being on their own for a time. On the other hand…
"How long will you be gone?" asked Berry in a small voice.
"Maybe a month. Depends on what I have to do when I get there. I'll take the frigate, of course. It's only about fifty light-years from here to the Maya Sector-call it a week's travel in the Eta bands, if we push it a little-and Smoking Frog's five-point-five light-years or so inside the sector line. Call that another day or so. So, figure sixteen days' travel and two weeks there to dig up whatever I have to dig up. A T-month, more or less."
"Oh. Four weeks aren't so bad." The look which Berry and Ruth now exchanged had no warring impulses at all.
"No wild parties," growled Anton. "No orgies. Especially no wild orgies. If this hotel isn't still standing-no wreckage at all, mind!-when I get back-"
Berry had never been as feisty as Anton's natural daughter, Helen, true enough. She didn't have the same temperament. On the other hand, having Helen for a sister these past four years hadn't gone to waste either.
"That's nonsense, Daddy! Me?! And Ruth-a princess of the realm?" Somehow, she managed to flounce with indignation while sitting in a chair. "I never heard such a ridiculous-"
On and on. Needless to say, Ruth added her own flounces and indignation. On and on. Anton got gloomier by the moment.
Du Havel didn't help any. "That's it," he said, grinning. "The clever scheme unveiled, Anton. You're being lured off Erewhon so that the folly of young women can be proven to the galaxy at last."
"I'm counting on you to keep them steady, Web," Anton growled.
"Don't be absurd. I'm an absent-minded professor. They'll outwit me right and left."
Chapter 15
By the time Victor and Naomi managed to get Ginny settled in bed, Victor's annoyance with the Erewhonese woman had eased a lot. Catty and nastily competitive Walter Imbesi's niece might have been earlier, in the presence of the Solarian League Marine lieutenant. But Naomi had been charming and good-humored thereafter-never more so than when Victor had been faced with the awkwardness of having to drag a thoroughly plastered Virginia Usher away from the crowd before she committed sheer mayhem in the way of social embarrassment and public scandal.
Ginny had not been kidding when she'd said she couldn't handle liquor well. Victor had never seen her get drunk before, and, now that he had, hoped fervently that he'd never witness the event again.
It wasn't the puking he minded, in and of itself. Although he still retained a certain stiffness of demeanor, despite all of Kevin and Ginny Usher's efforts to rub it away these past few years, Victor was far removed from a prude. The Dolist slums of Nouveau Paris which had produced him were a poor culture medium for prissiness, after all. It wasn't as if he'd never seen anyone heave their guts, or been through the experience himself.
But he'd never seen anyone do it with Ginny's single-minded target selection. The moment her face had suddenly turned a shade of green and her eyes had widened-Victor had immediately recognized that unmistakable can't-hold-it-down sign-Ginny had started feverishly scanning the crowd.