"Jernow Morat Gurgee," Pequil began, looking awkward, "Let me introduce…"
But Shohobohaum Za was already steering Gurgeh away through the crowds at the bottom of the staircase. "How's things anyway, Pequil?" he shouted over his shoulder at the dazed-looking apex. "Okay? Yeah? Good. Talk to you later. Just taking this other exile for a little drink!"
A pale-looking Pequil waved back weakly. Flere-Imsaho hesitated, then stayed with the Azadian.
Shohobohaum Za turned back to Gurgeh, removed his arm from the other man's shoulders and, in a less strident voice, said, "Boring bladder, old Pequil. Hope you didn't mind being dragged away."
"I'll cope with the remorse," Gurgeh said, looking the other Culture man up and down. "I take it you're the… ambassador?"
"The same," Za said, and belched. "This way," he nodded, guiding Gurgeh through the crowds. "I spotted some grif bottles behind one of the drink tables and I want to dock with a couple before the Emp and his cronies snaffle the lot." They passed a low stage where a band played loudly. "Crazy place, isn't it?" Za shouted at Gurgeh as they headed for the rear of the hall.
Gurgeh wondered exactly what the other man was referring to.
"Here we is," Za said, coming to a stop by a long line of tables. Behind the tables, liveried males served drinks and food to the guests. Above them, on a huge arched wall, a dark tapestry sewn with diamonds and gold-thread depicted an ancient space battle.
Za gave a whistle and leant over to whisper to the tall, stern-looking male who approached. Gurgeh saw a piece of paper being exchanged, then Za slapped his hand over Gurgeh's wrist and breezed away from the tables, hauling Gurgeh over to a large circular couch set round the bottom of a fluted pillar of marble inlaid with precious metals.
"Wait till you taste this stuff," Za said, leaning towards Gurgeh and winking. Shohobohaum Za was a little lighter in colour than Gurgeh, but still much darker than the average Azadian. It was notoriously difficult to judge the age of Culture people, but Gurgeh guessed the man was a decade or so younger than he. "You do drink?" Za said, looking suddenly alarmed.
"I've been bypassing the stuff," Gurgeh told him.
Za shook his head emphatically. "Don't do that with grif," he said, patting Gurgeh's hand. "Would be tragic. Ought to be a treasonable offence, in fact. Gland Crystal Fugue State instead. Brilliant combination; blows your neurons out your ass. Grif is stunning stuff. Comes from Echronedal you know; shipped over for the games. Only make it during the Oxygen Season; stuff we're getting should be two Great Years old. Costs a fortune. Opened more legs than a cosmetic laser. Anyway." Za sat back, clasping his hands and looking seriously at Gurgeh. "What do you think of the Empire? Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it? I mean, vicious but sexy, right?" He jumped forward as a male servant carrying a tray with a couple of small, stoppered jugs came up to them. "Ah-ha!" He took the tray with its jugs in exchange for another scrap of paper. He unstoppered both jugs and handed one to Gurgeh. He raised his jug to his lips, closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a chant. Finally he drank, keeping his eyes tightly closed.
When he opened his eyes, Gurgeh was sitting with one elbow on his knee, his chin in his hand, looking quizzically at him. "Did they recruit you like this?" he asked. "Or is it an effect the Empire has?"
Za laughed throatily, gazing up to the ceiling where a vast painting showed ancient seaships fighting some millennia-old engagement. "Both!" Za said, still chuckling. He nodded at Gurgeh's jug, an amused but — so it seemed to Gurgeh — more intelligent, look on his face now; a look which made Gurgeh revise his estimation of the other man's age upward by several decades. "You going to drink that stuff?" Za said. "I just spent an unskilled worker's yearly wage getting it for you."
Gurgeh looked into the other man's bright green eyes for a moment, then raised the jug to his lips. "To the unskilled workers, Mr Za," he said, and drank.
Za laughed uproariously again, head back. "I think we're going to get along just fine, game-player Gurgeh."
The grif was sweet, scented, subtle and smoky. Za drained his own jug, holding the thin spout over his opened mouth to savour the last few drops. He looked at Gurgeh and smacked his lips. "Slips down like liquid silk," he said. He put the jug on the floor. "So; you're going to play the great game, eh, Jernau Gurgeh?"
"That's what I'm here for." Gurgeh sipped a little more of the heady liquor.
"Let me give you some advice," Za said, briefly touching his arm. "Don't bet on anything. And watch the women — or men, or both, or whatever you're into. You could get into some very nasty situations if you aren't careful. Even if you mean to stay celibate you might find some of them — women especially — just can't wait to see what's between your legs. And they take that sort of stuff ridiculously seriously. You want any body-games; tell me. I've got contacts; I can set it up nice and discreet. Utter discretion and complete secrecy totally guaranteed; ask anybody." He laughed, then touched Gurgeh's arm again and looked serious. "I'm serious," he said. "I can fix you up."
"I'll bear that in mind," Gurgeh said, drinking. "Thanks for the warning."
"My pleasure; no problem. I've been here eight… nine years now; envoy before me only lasted twenty days; got chucked out for consorting with a minister's wife." Za shook his head and chuckled. "I mean, I like her style, but shit; a minister! Crazy bitch was lucky she was only thrown out; if she'd been one of their own they'd have been up her orifices with acid leeches before the prison gate had shut. Makes me cross my legs just thinking about it;"
Before Gurgeh could reply, or Za could continue, there was a terrific crashing noise from the top of the great staircase, like the sound of thousands of breaking bottles. It echoed through the ballroom. "Damn, the Emperor," Za said, standing. He nodded at Gurgeh's jug. "Drink up, man!"
Gurgeh stood up slowly; he pushed the jug into Za's hands. "You have it. I think you appreciate it more." Za restoppered the jug and shoved it into a fold in his robe.
There was a lot of activity at the top of the stairs. People in the ballroom were milling about too, apparently forming a sort of human corridor which led from the bottom of the staircase to a large, glittering seat set on a low dais covered with gold-cloth.
"Better get you into your place," Za said; he went to grab Gurgeh's wrist again, but Gurgeh raised his hand suddenly, smoothing his beard; Za missed.
Gurgeh nodded forward. "After you," he said. Za winked and strode off. They came up behind the group of people in front of the throne.
"Here's your boy, Pequil," Za announced to the worried-looking apex, then went to stand further away. Gurgeh found himself standing beside Pequil, with Flere-Imsaho floating behind him at waist level, humming assiduously.
"Mr Gurgee, we were starting to worry about you," Pequil whispered, glancing nervously up at the staircase.
"Were you?" Gurgeh said. "How comforting." Pequil didn't look very pleased. Gurgeh wondered if the apex had been addressed wrongly again.