Brim pursed his lips. "I did that, Captain," he said—a little proudly, in spite of himself.
"You're absolutely right you did," Collingswood said. "And don't you ever forget it."
"But the price," Brim said, wincing at the thought. "Universe..."
"That part belongs to me this time," Collingswood answered. "Because, in effect, I ordered you out there on an impossible mission. I set the price I was willing to pay not you, Wilf Brim." She smiled. "Of course," she said, "I didn't expect to pay the whole wager when I put you in charge. And I didn't."
Brim could only shake his head.
"Oh, don't try to talk, Wilf," Collingswood said. "Simply think about what I have said. Objective and price—those are the touchstones. When you work them out for Truculent's last mission, you'll find you accomplished my objective at a bargain. You not only saved a city—with all the lives that involves—but a treaty, too. And there's no telling how many lives that treaty will eventually save." She laughed and sipped her meem. "Then," she said, "there's the matter of the enemy ships. Your score stands at one ship for two—actually one for three, since the last one would probably have gotten away had you not disabled him before Benwell arrived at the scene. Not a bad score in anybody's book, I should think.
How do you really feel about that battle, Wilf Brim?"
"Well..."
Collingswood laughed: "Wilf," she said, "I think I have made my point. If you continue to let this Truculent thing bother you, then it is clearly your own doing." She turned her head toward Admiral Pluton. "I, on the other hand, have urgent matters on my mind, so if you will excuse me, Lieutenant, we shall see each other next at your decoration ceremonies tomorrow."
"Aye, Captain," Brim said. "And I th-thank you for including me in Defiant's crew."
Collingswood smiled warmly and shrugged. "If you still want to sign on with me, after what I have put you through," she said, "then I am quite gratified to have you aboard."
Shortly after that, Collingswood and her admiral took leave of the Sodeskayan table amid wishes for safety, prosperity, and long life from each to all. Not much later, Borodov also rose, stretching his arms sleepily. "Is an early metacycle for elderly Bears," he said, glancing at his timepiece. "I think I shall turn in now. Tomorrow promises long metacycles of wakefulness—for I accompany the Prince back to Avalon." He looked at Brim and grimaced in mock anticipation. "Even Bears are sometimes afflicted with hangovers, Lieutenant," he said. Then he disappeared with Pro'tif on his arm.
After a final goblet of meem, Ursis accompanied Brim to his room. "Since you started on Sodeskayan meem," the Bear explained, "this Sodeskayan has the responsibility to insure you find the way to your room, eh?"
Brim shrugged. Were the truth known, he felt a little woozy on his feet—besides, the Bear's room was nearby, and he felt his own responsibility toward his friend. In the end, they assisted each other—with added help from Cherdak, who also professed responsibility for making sure Ursis arrived at his room safely. The Carescrian decided he wouldn't ask any questions about that. The threesome decided (after much serious discussion in committee) to take a shortcut through a spacious courtyard. The night was still clear—miraculously so for Gimmas Haefdon. Brim scanned the stars as they walked. Suddenly, Ursis and Cherdak picked up their ears.
"Big one comink, Nik," Cherdak said, turning her gaze toward the ocean.
"Indeed," Ursis said presently. "Listen, Wilf Ansor—you should be able to hear it any moment. Sounds like battleship."
Brim listened, peering sightlessly at the sky and concentrating on sounds from the night. There. A low rumble—felt more as a vibration than heard—growing stronger by the tick. Soon it was shaking the pavement beneath their feet. All three looked up at the same time to watch a whole flotilla of destroyers blaze through the cold air. This was followed immediately by a monstrous collection of lights and flashing beacons that glided rapidly overhead with the cascading thunder of a thousand lesser starships. And even in the relative darkness, there was no mistaking those majestic lines: Queen Elidean herself, first of the five greatest battleships ever constructed (she alone had tear-shaped shelters at the tips of her bridge wings). Then the great vessel passed behind the roofline of the officers' quarters.
Ursis laughed as the tumult began to ease and they continued across the courtyard. "Your Crown Prince Onrad travels in style, if I may say so."
Brim saluted his friend. "If it turns out that you may not say so," he pronounced in mock seriousness, "then I shall take it upon myself to say it for you." He rubbed his chin and shrugged as if he had suddenly reached a difficult decision. "In point of fact, I have recently divined that such mode of travel is probably even more comfortable than the average Carescrian ore barge. Now what do you think of that, Sodeskayan?"
"Deep thinking, Brim," the Bear replied, nearly tripping on a raised paving tile. "Deep thinking indeed."
Cherdak smiled and got a better grip on her countryman.
The two Sodeskayans delivered Brim to his door only cycles after they stumbled out of the sixth-floor lift. The Carescrian never was able to remember getting himself into bed—nor neatly hanging his uniform in the wardrobe.
Brim came muzzily awake before his alarm chimed him out of bed. He didn't bother to open his eyes—clearly he was not finished sleeping, and his thoughts were still muddled from the night before.
Besides, he was still glowing from an erotic dream to end all erotic dreams. About Margot, of course, and oddly enough (now that he thought about it) set right here in the room he occupied. He sighed—the xaxtdamned thing was so real, it might really have happened. His mind's eye could still see her mounted astride him, eyes glazed, red-flushed face twisted into a ravishing mask of effort and delight while her pelvis moved urgently backward and forward, scraping his groin with her coarse, wet gold. Their coupling was even better than he remembered from Avalon, as if the Universe were atoning for time they'd spent apart. If that made any sense at all. If anything in that sort of dream had to make sense.
As he recalled, she'd arrived in the dream out of nowhere—awakening him as she climbed into bed, her clothes folded neatly on a chair by the door.
He smiled as he lay in the lonely darkness. Even dreaming, he'd been too affected by the powerful Sodeskayan meem to take much advantage of the situation. Except, of course...But that had been totally automatic.
She'd giggled happily when she discovered his condition, and placed her lips beside his ear while blond curls tickled his nose. "That's wonderful, Wilf," she'd whispered. "You've come through splendidly.
I shall now take care of all the rest." It was the most beautiful dream of his entire life.
He sighed again and shifted to a more comfortable position—where he suddenly encountered a warm, smooth curve that had absolutely nothing to do with an empty bed.
He felt himself go rigid. Heart suddenly thundering in his ears, he moved his hand along the softness.
And he was awake this time, all right. The curve was very, very real. He carefully opened his eyes to a mass of golden curls on the pillow beside him.