The next day, Admiral Serrano hosted the farewell gathering. Esmay wore one of her new dress uniforms, astonished all over again by the difference in fit. It looked as if she’d been sewn into it and yet it was comfortable and didn’t hinder her movement. She joined the line of officers that snaked in to shake hands with Vida Serrano. For a moment, her stomach churned as she saw the admiral’s glance pass over her, but the thought of her ship steadied her. She was here; she was a captain; Rascal was a ship to be proud of.
When her turn came, Vida greeted her with a smile. “Lieutenant—I see you found a really good tailor. Congratulations on your return, and on your scores from the exercise. I’m expecting you to live up to your reputation.”
“Thank you, sir.” Esmay moved on, bemused and wondering which part of her reputation the admiral expected her to live up to.
Later, as she contemplated a towering display of canapes, and considered whether the little brown things with a green fringe or the green paste on crackers would sit best, she realized Admiral Serrano had come up beside her.
“I’m sure you realize by now that I’m not the one who cashiered you—” The admiral took two of the brown things, and one of the crackers.
“Yes, sir; they told me.”
“This is not something we want to discuss now, but let me just say that I am genuinely glad to have you back on active duty and a member of the family.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Those things on the second tier are deep-fried gengineered locusts with frillik; if I understood your father correctly, it’s something you’re not supposed to eat.”
“No, sir. What about the green paste?”
“Puree of Caskadar neosquid liver with dill. Something else you’re not supposed to eat.”
“Yes, sir.” There was something bizarre about an admiral advising her on the food laws she’d grown up with as applied to alien cuisine.
“The devilled quails’ eggs, on the other hand, should be all right.”
“Is that what they are?” Esmay had not recognized the elaborate little sculptures as originating with eggs.
“Yes . . . it’s this strange little man in food service. I’ve had him for years, but have never convinced him to let anything look like what it is.” She gave Esmay a mischievous sidelong look. “In my wicked moments, I enjoy watching ensigns trying to figure it out, and then choking when they find out what they’ve just consumed. A low pleasure, I admit.”
Esmay said nothing, since her mouth was full of devilled quails’ eggs.
“What do you think of Commodore Livadhi?” Admiral Serrano asked, having waited politely for the swallow.
Esmay felt like a quail beneath a stooping falcon. “Well, Admiral, he’s . . . he’s—” An admiral, and lieutenants who wanted to avoid causing trouble didn’t gossip to one admiral about another.
“I know, it’s unfair. What I really want to know, if you have a clue, is how my great-niece’s crew is getting along with him. They can be a handful, and there’s no way I can talk to them without stepping on his toes.”
“He had us to dinner,” Esmay said. “I happened to see a few of them that I recognized. Petris, Meharry, Oblo—”
“Just the trio that concerned me,” Admiral Serrano said. “I doubt it was happenstance you saw them. How did they seem?”
“Fine, sir. They congratulated me on getting a ship—” And on her marriage, but this didn’t seem like a good moment to mention that. “Meharry told me about her younger brother—” The term baby brother was not one to be used with admirals. “And Oblo told me Barin had been wounded.” She couldn’t keep a sharp note out of her voice at that.
Admiral Serrano closed her eyes a moment. “Damn! I should have thought—it was while you were out of touch and we didn’t know where you were, and then I just assumed you’d hear about it at Headquarters. I’m sorry—I should have made sure you knew. His ship sustained a hull breach; he was working damage control, and there was an explosion—it’s a long story; I’ll flash it over to your console later tonight. Anyway, he was badly injured; we were all worried until they got him to Copper Mountain. The latest report is that he’s come through treatment well and is in rehab now. Expected to make a full recovery. He’s been written up for an award. If you want to send him a message, flash it to my office before you leave tomorrow; I’ll forward it priority.”
“Thank you, sir,” Esmay said.
“I’m just sorry I didn’t think to tell you myself before now. But I’d better go circulate, or Arash will wonder why I’m chatting you up. He did a good job while he was running this place, but he’s just a wee bit sensitive. Old family rivalry, probably.” Admiral Serrano moved away, to startle another young officer, Esmay noticed, when she eased up beside him.
Esmay ate two more devilled quails’ eggs, allowing herself to feel relief that Barin was no longer in danger.
“Ah, Lieutenant Suiza,” That was Commodore Livadhi. “This is certainly more elaborate than my dinner.” Was there an edge to that? She couldn’t be sure.
“But not so . . .” She paused, trying to think of the best word.
“Comfortable, perhaps?” Comfortable was not the word she’d been thinking of, but one did not argue with admirals. He smiled down at her, and she was aware once more of his charm. “I saw that Admiral Serrano had buttonholed you, and came to the rescue—but I see you need no rescue.”
“No, sir. The admiral—Admiral Serrano was just telling me that my—that Barin—her grandson—was safe and recovering well.”
“Ah . . . of course. You’ve been in transit, and the full details aren’t being made available.” Livadhi took three of the gengineered locusts onto his plate and popped one into his mouth. Now that Esmay knew what they were, the little crunch as he bit into it struck her as obscene. She knew that was ridiculous. “I was just going to ask if you remembered more about that fellow—priest, I think you said?—from the Benignity.”
Esmay dragged her mind away from the recitation of Barin is safe, Barin is safe to Livadhi’s question. “The priest, sir? Mostly we talked about religion. He was curious about me, because he thought Altiplanans had a branch of his religion, and might have some old texts he could study.”
“And do you?”
“Sir, I don’t know. I left home as a youngster, really, and the history of our beliefs wasn’t ever my interest. I told him he should contact the Docent for Altiplano, there on Castle Rock, who could tell him more.”
“Mmm. Well, I’ll see you at the final briefing.” Livadhi walked off. Esmay looked after him with the feeling that she had missed something, perhaps disappointed him in some way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I hate these islands,” Gelan Meharry said. “If I have to be stuck on a planet, it should at least be somewhere you can do something.” He was standing hunch-shouldered in the courtyard; the winter sun slanted in, but a razor-edged wind took all the warmth from its rays.
“I wish someone would invent one of those transporter rays,” Barin said. “Straight from this to a nice tropical island would be nice.”
“You’re right there, sir. But I’ve put my name in for ship duty. What about you?”
“Dunno yet. I’m still on a medical hold. If they hold it long enough, I might as well take my next required course while I’m here.”
“I was kind of hoping, sir, we might end up on the same ship.”
Barin gave him a quick look. “Oh? On the grounds that you already know the worst about me?”
“Something like that, yes, sir.” Meharry’s voice was placid, but his green eyes had a wicked glint. “My sister always said, if you find a Serrano you can stand, hook up with ’em.”
“Oh,” Barin said again, obscurely pleased. “Well, what kind of ship did you have in mind?”