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 Twenty-thirty.
 Fine. And that was that.
Except...Nathaniel was ready to swallow hard at the aggressiveness of the
woman. Not only the aggressiveness, but...he couldn't place it, except that he
was missing something so obvious he shouldn't be.
He had nearly two hours before Sylvia's presumed arrival, not enough time to
go anywhere, had he anywhere to go, and decided the time had come for
somefaxwork.  Mydra?
 If to be effective I am, I must know the people. Would you access the
personnel records of all Legation employees to my screen?
 Now, Lord Whaler?
 Now is when I need them.
By the time he had reviewed all the records in the personnel files, he was
convinced.
Everything was too perfect, and because it was, he hadn't the faintest idea
which of the professional staff were planted. The safest assumption was that
they all were.
...XIV...
 Martin, asked the woman behind the desk,  anything new? She nipped a bite
from a thin taper of cernadine, then another. With each chew, the room grew
more redolent of the spice drug.
 There's a call from the Trade Envoy from Accord. Whaler, I think his name
is. Nathaniel Whaler.
 What's his problem?
 That's the Rift thing.
 Oh...and they didn't like our proposal and actually sent an Envoy. How
charming. JanisDu-Plessis swivelled her seat to view the western hills,
turning her back on the aide.  Do we have a counterproposal from them yet?
 I suspect that's why he wants to meet with LordJansen. Probably wants to
present it.
 You know, Martin, I'm not terribly fond of provincials, especially from
places like Accord. They even turned down my visa. She turned back toward the
console and tapped the lock. panel.
 We're in conference, Martin, and that's far more important than appointment
scheduling for Lord Whaler. Far more important. Her eyes were bright with the
effect of the drug, andfixed on the wiry blond man.  Why don't you demonstrate
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how important?
 Now?
 Why not now? Lord Jansen is skying, and Lord Envoy Whaler can certainly cool
his provincial heels a bit longer.
She looked from Martin to the long couch next to her console and back to him.
As she tilted her head, he stood to accept her invitation. The console panels
continued to blink, unanswered.
...XV...
The private screen chimed, twice. The Special Assistant scanned the office
out of habit, although she was alone.  Ku-Smythe.
 Marcella, is your dinner engagement wise? The Admiral's voice was level.
 How much of the. Accord Legation's fax system do yon have controlled? All of
it?
 Why do yout hink that?
 Unless mytechs are totally incompetent, everything here is blocked. That
means it can't be snooped untilthe reception point. Accord doesn't have
first-class equipment, I'll admit, but it's good enough to block anyone but
your crew. Besides, you've got most of the plants on the staff. So even good
equipment wouldn't keep you from finding out...but nott his quickly.
The Admiral smiled.  It's a pity you wouldn't go the Service route. You're
wasted at Commerce.
 Could I have gotten as high at Defense?
 The man is dangerous, Marcella. Dangerous..Don't forget it.
 You're exaggerating again. No man is that dangerous.
 I wish I could show you how dangerous.
 Why do you care? If you're right, that would give you all the pretexts you
need, not that you seem to mind the lack of political concernyou've
demonstrated so far.
The Admiral frowned.  You continue to believe that politics is more important
than military capability?
 No. Your kind of military capabilities are irrelevant, I suspect. That's
more the kind of judgment the l.l.S. . should make. But you don't trust them
either.
 Marcella...
 Why don't you ask yourself why Accord wants to negotiate?
 I have. They don't want to fight. Neither do we, but we need the trade
routes to the Outer Rift.
 Nonsense. You're still trying to prove that you can undo the Secession with
pure military applications. Besides, Accord has never blocked the trade
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routes. It just happens that we can't compete, not unless Accord is no longer
a factor.
 As I said, Marcella, it's a pity you're wasted at Commerce.
The Special Assistant just looked through the screen at the Defense Chief.F
inally, the Admiral looked away, and the screenblanked.
...XVI...
 Cling!
 Whaler.
 A Sylvia Ferro-Maine for lunch, Lord Whaler.
 Yes. Please send her in. He paused.  And how soon will the food be ready?
 Shortly, Lord Whaler. I just checked on it. He stood and moved toward the
entry portal, which was opening as he approached.
The woman, who at first glance might have passed for a girl, was dark haired,
a brown nearly black, almost as tall as he was, well muscled, but fine boned,
with the look of a dancer. Her fair complexion added to the chinalike
impression.  Lord Whaler?
 Oneand the very same, Lady dear, he replied with a broad accent.  And you
are fine?
 A little rushed.Lord Whaler, but fine. He gestured toward the deep office
couch.  You have very spacious quarters here.
 Spacious? I had not thought about the matter, but would such as this be
considered spacious here? In New Augusta?
 Quite comfortable. Sylvia looked around the office, her eyes lingering at
the vista of the westernhills.  Quite comfortable.
As she sat down, he plopped himself into the chair across from
her. - Know you much about Accord?
 Only the standard. What should I know? Nathaniel shrugged.  So much there
is to say. Where would one start? Not at the beginning, for too long that
would take. Not in the middle, for too confusing that would be. And at the
end, nothing would I be saying.So... he dragged it out,  at the beginning
will I start, but more quickly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]