"War. Continual war."
"Yeah. With their population problem it's hardly surprising. Bruno, do you suppose it's possible to find the man who invented the condom? He deserves a statue somewhere."
Bruno laughed a long, throaty laugh. "I've missed you, Kevin."
Food arrived. Kevin listened while they ate, a habit so old that he'd have had to concentrate not to listen. At the next table some lordling was complaining bitterly about... what? Fishing rights up in the upper Python River. His family had had exclusive rights, and they'd been rescinded. Something about the salmon breeding cycle: some lowborn bureaucrat had decided that the Dinsmark family wasn't keeping the upstream route sufficiently open.
His companion was insufficiently sympathetic. Kurt Dinsmark wouldn't have had fishing rights anyway, he was a younger son...
And on the gripping hand, Renner thought, they're talking privileges instead of duties. How common is that? "We pay the nobles one hell of a stiff fee for running civilization," he said.
"I rarely hear it put that way. So?"
"Oh, I like to keep track of whether they're doing their job. In fact, it's part of my job, which is nice, because I was doing it anyway. But what I'm hearing about is privileges."
"Give ‘em a break. They're off duty. There was another museum."
Renner nodded slightly. "Yeah. That one's hearsay, and from Moties at that. The Moties killed the midshipmen who stumbled onto it. This one wasn't your ordinary museum. The idea was to help the survivors rebuild civilization."
"Heh." Cziller drained his glass. "If I hadn't got stuck trying to rebuild New Chicago..."
Renner made sympathetic noises. "Understand you did a pretty good job, though. Hey, I just had a thought. I'm on duty myself in a couple of hours, but... do you get nostalgic for spaceports? And spacecraft?"
"Sure. The new port is in the old crater where the Halfway Dome blew up, and sometimes I go out there just to- What's your thought?"
Renner put down his fork, fished out his comcard. "Get me Horace Bury."
He set the comcard on the table while he finished his meal. It took a while, but presently the card said, "What is it, Renner?"
"I had a thought, Excellency."
"Praise Allah, my training has not been for nothing."
"We're taking Buckman and Mercer up for dinner tonight. Would you consider another guest? It's Bruno Cziller, retired as admiral. He was my captain before he handed me to Blaine. Turned MacArthur over to Blaine, too. The Earl's first ship. I've been trying to tell Bruno about Mote Prime, but hey, why not let him listen while you and I and Buckman reminisce? An appreciative audience can be a good thing."
Momentary pause. Bury too was rank conscious. "Good. Put him on, please."
Renner passed the comcard across. Bruno Cziller said, "Excellency?"
"Admiral, we'd be delighted if you could join us for dinner tonight aboard Sinbad. The next Viceroy of Trans-Coal Sack will be present. Jacob Buckman is the astronomer who traveled with us to the Mote. We became friends on that trip. You'll hear as much about the Mote system as you can learn outside the Institute."
"Capital. Thank you, Excellency."
"Will you be accompanied?"
"Thank you, no, Excellency. Mrs. Cziller has appointments for the evening."
"Admiral, I'm handing you over to the computer to order your dinner. We'll want a chance to put food stores aboard."
Cziller's eyebrows went up. Rennet said, "Bury's got a good chef. Test him out."
Cziller nodded, and did. Presently he passed the comcard back. "Kevin, you never used to be subtle."
"I may have picked up something in a quarter century with Bury. Mercer will be happier if a higher rank is there. And Bury might tell you how he spent his time on Mote Prime. He's never told me."
"Oh?"
"Moties scare him. He'd rather not remember. It's worth a try. Besides, I've got to get to the spaceport early to get the shuttle ready. Why don't-"
"Why don't I come with you to supervise."
"Right. And now I have another thought."
"Expound."
"A month ago we thought we'd found Moties loose in the Empire."
Melon arrived, and Kevin talked while they ate. He had Bruno Cziller chortling. "Now Bury wants to visit the blockade, be sure it's leak proof. So do I, Bruno. Maxroy's Purchase was scary."
"And?"
"Rod Blaine has vetoed it. I'd like to give Bury a shot at changing his mind."
Bruno Cziller was studying him like a lab specimen, or perhaps like the man across from him at a poker table. "I'm the man who gave the Earl his ship and his Sailing Master. I also wished a prisoner on him. Horace Bury was traveling as a prisoner on MacArthur. Do you know why?"
"Nope."
"After twenty-five years?"
"I might not have liked it. I've got to live with him, Bruno."
"The question is, why should I get involved?"
"I haven't thought of that part yet."
The coffee arrived. "Real cream,' Renner said.
Cziller smiled faintly. "I'd be glad to get used to basic protocarb milk if I could go to space again."
Renner studied his coffee for a moment. "Look, shall I tell Bury you already turned me down, so you don't have to go through this twice?"
Bruno said, "Yes." And they moved on to other matters.
"Smooth," Jacob Buckman said.
Horace Bury looked up in momentary puzzlement, then nodded. The transition to weightlessness had been quite smooth, but Bury was used to Renner's skillful management of the shuttle, He felt tiny accelerations, then the chimes announced they were docked with Sinbad. The connecting hatchways swung open. A crewman brought a towline from Sinbad into the shuttle and made it fast. "All correct, Excellency," he said.
Bury waited a moment to allow Nabil and his assistants to go ahead, then disconnected himself from his couch. It was good to fly free of the travel chair. "Welcome," he said. "Does anyone wish assistance?"
"Thank you, Excellency," Andrew Mercer Calvin said. He unsnapped his seat belt and allowed himself to drift into the center of the passenger bay. He grasped the towline and tugged himself toward the ship.
Bury followed. As he did, the connecting hatchway to the pilot's compartment opened. Cziller and Renner came out. "My congratulations, Kevin," Bury said. "Dr. Buckman remarked on the smoothness of our ride."
"Not my doing," Renner said.
"Guess I haven't lost all my skills," Cziller said smugly.
In fact there was little for humans to do beyond giving directions to the computer. Or- Bury wondered. Had Cziller flown by direct control? Would Renner have let him, given who their passenger was? Yes. Yes, he would.
They clung to a score of handholds while Sinbad spun up. Then Bury led the way into the interior, moving smoothly if not quickly in 60 percent of standard gravity. Aaah.
"When I was twenty-six years old," he said to nobody in particular, "the natives of Huy Brasil took exception to some of my policies. They attacked me in the desert east of Beemble Town. I beat them into town, doubled through some alleys, and was back in the desert heading for my shuttle. I outran them all. Sometimes I do miss being young."
"Amen," Cziller said.
"I had to outrun an earthquake once," Buckman said. "I got downstairs and out of the observatory before it shook down on me. I think I could still do it. I run every day." He stopped walking. "Roomy. I knew you were rich, Bury."