"Anna!" Brim exclaimed as the petite financier bobbed through the massive wooden doorway in a green corduroy dress and white lace scarf.
Eyes sparkling happily, she unabashedly ran the length of the large room, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him until he thought he would be smothered. "Oh, Wilf," she whispered, her cheek hinting of delicate perfume. "I've been so terribly worried about you...."
Brim tried ineffectually to dismiss the firm breasts pressing into his chest. "I thought you were consulting at Sherrington's this month," he said. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"Haven't been here long enough," she explained breathlessly. "We came here straight from the port. And I had only fifteen cycles to pack a bag back at Bromwich—fifteen cycles, Wilf! Not only that: I had to come—by Imperial orders, no less." She got an awesome look when she said that.
"I've never had an Imperial order in my life! Why, I hardly have anything to wear."
"If I have a say in the matter," Brim whispered, "you won't need anything to wear—certainly not while you're with me."
Romanoff giggled under her breath. "Somehow, Wilf Brim," she whispered, "I hoped you'd say something like that. It's been a while." Then bussing him quickly on the cheek, she followed Pike down the aisle.
"Come sit with me, old chap," Moulding said with a grin. "I realize I'm not quite so attractive as little Miss Romanoff, but I've been told I have a most attractive left earlobe. You can study that if by chance you find yourself bored."
Brim punched him in the arm as they made their way toward a seat at the rear of the hall. The time for Helmsmen would come later.
Prince Onrad—sipping from a steaming cup of cvceese' and dressed in a heathery brown herringbone blazer, military jodhpurs, and high riding boots—began the meeting at precisely Morning:2:0; the last delegates finally took their seats approximately fifteen cycles later.
"As an appropriate prologue," Onrad began, "I offer this ancient Sodeskayan fable many of you will already have heard—about two energetic walkers who got thoroughly lost one day in the maze of country roads outside Gromcow. Close to despair, they at last encountered a local peasant and asked how they could best return to their hotel on the inner ring. After much pondering, the local observed, 'If I were you, sirs, I wouldn't start from here.'"
The big room remained silent for a moment, then everyone broke into wholehearted laughter. It was quickly overpowered by pulsing thunder from what could only be a very powerful starship rushing by overhead. Onrad paused until the noise died away, peering around the audience with a pleased look on his face. Presently, he replaced his eyeglasses and consulted his notes. "Our situation today," he continued, "vis-à-vis next year's race for the Mitchell Trophy, is much like that of the Bearish walkers—like it or not, we must start from where we are, and our friends from the Congress of Intragalactic Accord have made that a difficult place indeed."
In the next metacycle, he proceeded to relate the details of how the League-supported CIGA had managed to plunder every government fund earmarked to support the ISS. Afterward, an aide-de-camp in the full scarlet uniform of a Palace Guardsman delivered an intelligence report—courtesy of the Sodeskayan Ministry of Information—concerning Gantheisser's new GA262-A3 that the League intended to field in Avalon. Clearly, League engineers had achieved a breakthrough of sorts and developed their own extended-technology Drive to counter K-P's new Wizard. And, according to its specifications, this 262 could best Sherrington's M-6.
"If everything goes according to their plans," Onrad summed up toward the end of the Morning watch, "Nergol Triannic's Leaguers will not only permanently retire the Trophy to Tarrott next summer, they will also discredit the Empire itself—at a time when the loyalty of allied dominions may prove critical to our very survival." He paused for a moment to take a folded message handed to him by one of the huge Sodeskayan guards, then continued without breaking his verbal stride. "We Imperials have no choice but to permanently win possession of our 'hat rack,'" he continued. "Even as we speak, the old Leaguer warlords—Triannic's most powerful supporters—are gearing up to resume their war of aggression at the earliest opportunity.
Fluvanna and Beta Jagow are ripe for the taking. And there isn't one of you who doesn't understand that power among dominions is reckoned in terms of allies and raw materials."
While heads nodded agreement throughout the room, Onrad replaced the eyeglasses on his nose and glanced quickly at the message. His eyebrows rose for a moment in surprise before he smiled slightly and returned his gaze to the audience. "You already know what I am coming to," he continued, "but I feel constrained to put it into words nonetheless: the Empire—your Empire—badly needs new, faster Sherrington racers for next year's race, with even more powerful Drives from Krasni-Peych. And because we have no more government funds, we must procure those ships at no cost to the ISS! Gentlemen," he said, stepping from behind the lectern, "when I return, the meeting will be yours."
As Onrad strode along the exit aisle, Brim peered around the room in rapt fascination. Veronica Pike was suddenly deep in simultaneous conversations with Valerian and Romanoff. Nearby, Dvigat Krasni and M. Yekhat Poshline were conferring in low growls and shaking their heads.
Grave looking Bearish and human engineers broke into smaller groups, motioning and nodding to each other with great excitement. Quickly, Pike seemed to reach some sort of judgment. Nodding to Romanoff, she made her way to a seat behind Krasni, where she began a serious converse with the two Sodeskayans. They deliberated apart until Valerian and a Krasni engineer whom Brim knew only as Rimsey rose from a group of engineers and joined them. With that, the room's noisy discourse suddenly faded to an expectant silence.
At last, Onrad returned to the podium. "Well, my friends," he said, "as I promised, the meeting is now yours."