"Fergus!" she said. After a second's hesitation, she stepped forward again. She and Reith shook hands.
"You know each other?" asked Foltz, glancing sharply from one to the other.
"Yes," said Reith.
"I do not know the so-charming Mademoiselle," said Marot. "Pray, present me!"
"Oh, ah," said Foltz. "Alicia, this is my colleague, Aristide Marot. Doctor Marot, my secretary, Dr. Alicia Dyckman. She does for me what Mr. Reith does for you: translating, dealing with the locals, buying, hiring, and so on."
Marot kissed Alicia's hand, but she barely acknowledged the gesture. Her eyes were on Reith. She said: "Warren didn't tell me who was coming over to dinner. Did you know I was here?"
"I thought you might be," said Reith. "I was braced for it."
"Sit down, everybody," said Foltz. "One more round and we'll eat." He looked alternately at Reith and Alicia, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. At last he said: "Things begin to fall into a pattern. Alicia, is Mr. Reith by any chance that former husband of yours T'
She nodded, staring uncomfortably at her knuckles.
Foltz continued: "You never mentioned his name; at least, not—so I didn't know—I mean, I didn't plan this as a surprise—"
"I'm always delighted to see an old friend," said Reith. "Lish, how are you doing? How come you're not barging around on your own, collecting anthropological data on the Krishnans?"
"They didn't renew my grant," she said. "At least, the letter failed to arrive on the ship it should have. I wasn't quite broke, but if I'd waited around for more grant money and none came ..." She shrugged. "When Warren offered me the job, I took it. Of course, I've been collecting my own data in my spare time, as well as keeping his records and coping with the Krishnans. How about you?"
"Still running guided tours, and in between times recovering from the last one and planning for the next. The job is really getting too big for one man to handle, but a couple of Krishnans I've tried to break in as assistants have pooped out."
"What was their difficulty?"
"One could never be on time, which is fatal in my trade. The other couldn't learn English well enough to be understood, let alone any other Terran tongues."
"Drink up!" said Foltz. "Here's dinner."
As the party progressed, Reith asked Foltz: "Did you have any trouble with the Bákhites?"
"No. Luckily, when I was in Jeshang, High Priestess Lazdai was up in the hills, filling her venom sacs. Did you?"
"No; she was still on vacation." Reith turned back to Alicia. "Tell me, Lish, where were you all that time during the last year, after—after we—after we lost touch? When I got back from my tour, you'd dropped out of sight. Not even Herculeu knew where you were."
Having finished his dinner, Marot took out a large cigar. He glanced at Reith and Alicia, utterly absorbed in each other and oblivious of their table companions. Foltz sat quietly frowning.
Marot rose. "Warren, my old one, let us take a little walk and a smoke to settle our stomachs. Perhaps we can do ourselves some good by pooling our observations of the local geology."
Foltz glowered, hesitated, then rose and walked off with Marot. Alicia told Reith:
"I went to Katai-Jhogorai to study their family system. It's an extreme example of disjunctive marriage, in which there's no connection between the practical ends of the union and affection between spouses. So long as the marriage serves its politico-economic functions, neither spouse cares how many love affairs the other has or who fathers the eggs; like royal marriages in pre-industrial Europe. One who demands exclusive sexual rights to another they consider a barbarian.
"The system fascinated me, and I might be there yet. But I ran into trouble and had to leave in a hurry."
"What happened?"
"You know that slavery is a sore subject there? Some anti-slavery societies have sprung up; but the masses fear and hate them. Shortly before I arrived, a mob lynched an abolitionist who spoke out of turn.
"One of these societies heard that Terrans were anti-slavery and sent a delegation to me, to try to enlist my support."
"Oh, oh!" said Reith. "I know what's coming."
"No, you don't! I know what you're thinking: There goes Alicia, meddling in Krishnan affairs and putting all the Earth-men on the planet in danger."
"I didn't say anything of the kind!"
"You didn't have to; I know you too well. No, I flatly turned down these good people and forbade them to use my name in their propaganda."
"Then what—?"
"They went ahead and used it anyway, publishing a synopsis of their interview with me. Then the soup was in the fire—"
"You mean, you did sound off on slavery, but supposedly off the record?"
"Well, they asked some straight questions, so I thought I ought to give straight answers. I thought I could trust them. I couldn't very well pretend to be pro-slavery, now could I?"
"You could have refused to discuss the subject at all. Lish darling, you're incorrigible, and it'll kill you yet. Let's be thankful you got out of that one with a whole skin."
Marot and Foltz returned to the table. Foltz sat down heavily and tossed down another drink. He said: "Renewing old acquaintance, I see. That's okay, so long as you don't go getting ideas."
"I beg your pardon?" said Reith, giving Foltz a coldly level stare.
"I said, don't go getting ideas."
"Ideas about what?" Reith's muscles tensed themselves.
"About Alicia, you—" Foltz seemed to have been about to say something like "you fool!" but choked it off. "She's my secretary, and I won't let anybody come between us."
"I believe the lady will have the last word on that," said Reith sharply.
"Not this time she won't." Foltz's speech showed the first traces of the thickening induced by alcohol. "I know she's no dewy-eyed innocent, what with you, and that black African, and the President of Qirib, and I don't know who else; but for here and now she's my—my—"
As Foltz groped for a word, Reith began slowly to rise, like an uncoiling spring. Alicia sent frightened glances from one to the other. Then Marot spoke up loudly:
"I fear that we must be going, my friends. We have had a long day. I most sincerely thank you, Warren."
"Oh, ah," said Foltz, recovering his self-possession. "Must you go? Think you can find your way back?"
"I am sure of it. Golnaz is nearly at the full, and we can always go down-grade until we strike the river."
"Sure," said Reith, also clapping on the mask of civility. "With these six-legged critters, you don't have to worry about their stepping into a hole and going arse-over-teakettle with you. Goodnight, Lish."
He and Alicia shook hands again, but continued their clinging handshake, murmuring: "When can I see you ..." "I want to hear more about ..." "Whatever happened to ..."
At last Marot touched Reith's elbow, saying: "Come along, Fergus. Faites une bonne nuit!"
Recalled to the present, Reith gave Alicia's hand a brisk squeeze and turned away, mounting his aya without further words.
When they had ridden away from the camp, Reith said: "Good thing you broke that up, Aristide. In another minute we'd have been kicking and gouging. The most damned uncomfortable dinner party I ever sweated through; like dining with the headsman the night before he shortens you."
"Ah, yes," said Marot. "I only regret that you did not shut me up more quickly when I talked indiscreetly of our find. When shall we learn never to commit these gaffes? But to speak of more pleasant matters, I was much impressed by your Alicia."
"Not mine any more, I'm sorry to say."
"I am still impressed. She seems to have more virtues than any one woman ought to have: the beauty, the intelligence, the charm, the energy ..."
"You'd have to know her better to perceive the less admirable ones, which are not really faults but virtues carried to extremes."