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“Then MacArthur, as a guest. Under my authority then, remember? And you respected the fact to such an extent—”

“All right, I stowed away when we captured the Crazy Eddie probe. You know why.”

“Too right. Then New Scotland, where you were practically the highest rank around. You enjoyed that, didn’t you? The few people above you weren’t interested in making you do anything. And on to Mote Prime, doing exactly what you wanted to do in life. You were out from under for a long time. Now you’re back in the box.”

“That’s what it feels like.”

Rod flicked the flimsy in her hand. “Arrogant as hell. Right. It jarred me, but not the way it got to you. I’ve been under orders for a long time. All my life.”

“It’s the first time you’ve been ordered to marry any one, I take it.”

“Yeah. But we’ve both been expecting something like that, haven’t we? Politically, from an Empire standpoint, our marriage is just too good an alliance to pass up. We get the privileges, the property, the titles, and now the bill comes in. Blind luck we love each other, because we owe it to—”

“To whom?” she demanded.

Rod ginned helplessly. The idea was irresistibly funny. “To Kevin Renner. The Empire exists for the purpose of making it easier for Renner to play tourist. We owe this to Renner, and we’re paid well for the privilege, and he’s gonna collect.”

She was awed. “Does he really think that way? My God, he does! He ordered me to your cabin!”

“What? He what?”

She giggled. “Fantastic. We ought to ask him and see what he does. Let me finish reading this, Rod.”

PARAGRAPH I HAVE DISCRETION IN NAMING OTHER MEMBERS OF COMMISSION STOP WILL EXPECT YOUR HELP STOP EVERYBODY IN FIFTY PARSECS WANTS ON COMMISSION STOP GIVEN POWERS HIS MAJESTY DELEGATED TO US DONT BLAME THEM STOP YOUR FIRST TASK IS HELPING ME TO FILL OUT COMMISSION STOP SECOND WILL BE ARRANGING EVIDENCE AND WITNESS LIST STOP

PARAGRAPH ADMIRAL KUTUZOV HAS ORDERS TO PUT YOU ABOARD MESSAGE SLOOP FOR RETURN BEST POSSIBLE SPEED TO NEW SCOTLAND STOP BRING SALLY IF YOU THINK BEST AND FLIGHT SURGEON APPROVES STOP ADMIRAL WILL ASSUME RESPONSIBILITY FOR HORACE BURY STOP GET MOVING STOP KISS SALLY FOR ME STOP BREAK BREAK REGARDS

BENJAMIN BRIGHT FOWLER COMMA SENATOR OPEN PARENTHESES LORD PRESIDENT IMPERIAL COMMISSION EXTRAORDINARY ACTING FOR HIS MAJESTY LEONIDAS IX CLOSE PARENTHESES BREAK MESSAGE ENDSXX

“Am I going in the message sloop?” she asked.

“That’s up to you. You’re in condition. Want to?”

“Yes—there are a lot of things to arrange before the Moties get there— My God, we’ve got to settle things about the Moties, and there’s the wedding— Rod, do you realize how big a deal the marriage of Crucis Court and the Fowler heir will be in a provincial capital? I’ll need three secretaries, Uncle Ben’s not going to be any use, and we’ve got to arrange for a reception for the Moties and— Oh, all right. Where were we?”

47. Homeward Bound

Kutuzov and Mikhailov went all out in preparing for Rod and Sally’s farewell dinner party. Lenin’s cooks worked all day to turn out a traditional Ekaterina banquet: dozens of courses, soups, pastries, roasts, stuffed grape leaves from the hydroponics farm, shish kebab, an endless stream of food; and between courses there were thimble glasses of vodka. It was impossible to talk during the meal, for as soon as one course was finished MacArthur’s stewards brought another; or, to give a respite for digestion, Lenin’s Marines performed dances transported from the Russian steppes to St. Ekaterina’s hills and preserved nine hundred years by fanatics like Kutuzov.

Finally the bandsmen left and the stewards removed the dishes, leaving the guests with tea and more vodka. Lenin’s junior midshipman toasted the Emperor, and Captain Mikhailov toasted the Tsarevitch Alexander, while the Admiral beamed.

“He can put on quite a show when he’s not scared silly,” Renner whispered to Cargill. “Never thought I’d say that— Here it comes. The Tsar himself’s going to give a toast. Who’s left?”

The Admiral stood and lifted his glass. “I will reserve my toast for one moment,” he said thickly. It was possible that the endless glasses of vodka had affected him, but no one could be certain. “Captain Blaine, when next we meet roles will be reversed. Then you must tell me how to deal with Moties. I do not envy you that task.”

“What’s Horvath scowling about?” Cargill whispered. “He looks like somebody put a frog in his bunk.”

“Aye. Is it nae possible he wants a place on yon Commission?” Sinclair asked.

“Bet that’s it,” Renner put in. “I wouldn’t mind being on it myself—”

“You and everybody else,” Cargill said. “Now shut up and listen.”

“There is more we must congratulate Lord Blaine about,” Kutuzov was saying, “and that is why I reserve toast. Chaplain Hardy has announcement.”

David Hardy stood. His smile was broad and merry. “Lady Sandra has given me the honor of formally announcing her engagement to Lord Commissioner Blaine,” Hardy said. “I’ve already extended my private congratulations—let me be the first to give them publicly.”

Everyone spoke at once, but the Admiral cut them off. “And now my toast,” Kutuzov said. “To the future Marquise of Crucis.”

Sally blushed as she sat while the others stood and lifted their glasses. Well, it’s official now, she thought. No way to get out of it if I wanted to—not that I do, but it’s so inevitable now…

“Also to Lady Commissioner,” Kutuzov added. Everyone drank again. “And to Lord Commissioner. Long life and many children. May you protect our Empire when you negotiate with Moties.”

“Our thanks,” Rod said. “We’ll do our best, and of course I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Perhaps her ladyship will speak,” Kutuzov prompted.

She stood but she could think of nothing to say. “Thank you all,” she blurted and sat.

“Out of words again?” Rod asked wickedly. “And with all these people around—I’ve lost a rare opportunity!”

After that the formality vanished. Everyone pressed around them. “All the happiness in the world,” Cargill said. He pumped Rod’s hand vigorously. “I really mean that, sir. And the Empire couldn’t have made a better choice for the Commission.”

“You will nae be married before we arrive?” Sinclair asked. “Twould nae be fair, to be married in my city wi’out me present.”

“We don’t quite know when,” Sally told him. “But certainly not before Lenin gets in. You’re all invited to the wedding, of course.” So are the Moties, she added to herself. And I wonder what they’ll make of it?

The party dissolved into a kaleidoscope of small groups with Rod and Sally at the focus. The wardroom table was lowered into the deck to give them more room as stewards circulated with coffee and tea.

“You will of course allow me to offer my congratulations,” Bury told them smoothly. “And I hope you will not think I am trying to bribe you when I send a wedding gift.”

“Why would anyone think that?” Sally asked innocently. “Thank you, Mr. Bury.” If her first remark had been ambiguous, her smile was warm enough to cover it. Sally didn’t care for Bury’s reputation, but he’d been charming enough while she’d known him; if only he’d get over this insane fear of Moties!