“Your mother seems very calm," said Juliana Pasteur beside him. "Does she know something we don't?"
Arcturus turned his head to face Juliana. With time to think, he made a fuller inspection of her. He'd thought she was beautiful when he'd first seen her, but now, looking more closely, he saw that he had done her a disservice.
Juliana Pasteur was more than beautifuclass="underline" she was absolutely stunning, and made all the more so because she plainly had no idea of how attractive she was. The girls at the academy were either driven politicos who bored him or academic types who were no challenge to seduce.
He sensed Juliana would fit into neither of these camps.
The nightdress clung to the curves of her body and his seventeen-year-old mind pictured what she looked like underneath it.
He shook off that image, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts. "My mother is a strong woman," he said at last.
"My mother got sick and died when I was very young," said Juliana. "I barely remember her."
Arcturus heard the weary sorrow in her voice, but did not know what to say. He did not deal well with grief, for he could never empathize with those who had suffered loss and found them unpleasant to be around.
"I'm sorry," he said at last.
Juliana nodded, seemingly oblivious to his discomfort. "Are we safe in here?" she asked.
Arcturus nodded, pleased the conversation had shifted to a subject he could speak on with some authority.
"Yes, we're perfectly safe," he said. "The walls of this refuge are three feet of plascrete with neosteel reinforcement bars. It would take the Mining Guild's biggest drills —at least a BDE-1400—to get through. Maybe even the 1600."
"You know a lot about drills?"
"A little," he said, with just the right hint of modesty for her to infer that he knew a lot about drills. "I plan on becoming a prospector someday."
"Aren't you going to go into one of your father's businesses?"
Arcturus's face darkened at the mention of his father. "No, not if I can help it. I wouldn't be surprised if it's his speaking out against the Confederacy and meddling in things that don't concern him that's gotten us into this mess."
"What the Confederacy is doing should concern everybody." said Juliana.
"Maybe," said Arcturus with a shrug, looking over to Ailin Pasteur to find some clue as to the state of affairs beyond the refuge. "I don't really know and I don't really care. I just want to be left alone to make my own way in the galaxy."
"But if the Confederacy goes on the way it is, no one will be able to do that."
Arcturus glanced over at Ailin Pasteur. "Did your father tell you that?"
"As a matter of fact it was your father," said Juliana archly.
"Then I have even less interest in it."
"You aren't very polite, are you?"
"I don't know you," pointed out Arcturus. "Why do I need to be polite to you?"
"Because even fringe worlders know it is good manners to be polite to a guest."
He saw the color in her cheeks and realized she was right—he was being rude, and being rude to such a pretty girl seemed like the behavior of a savage, not that of a senator's son.
Arcturus took a deep breath and flashed his most dazzling smile, the one that melted the hearts of the girls at the academy who briefly piqued his interest. "You're right: I am being rude, and I'm sorry. This has been an... unusual evening. I'm not normally like this. Normally I am actually quite pleasant to be around."
She stared at him, trying to crack the mask of his handsome sincerity, but even the most desirable of Styrling socialites had tried and failed to do that.
Juliana Pasteur would have no chance beneath the glare of his charm.
"Apology accepted," she said with a smile, but Arcturus knew she wasn't yet hooked.
"You're a sharp one, aren't you? I like that." he said, more interested in Ailin Pasteur's daughter now that she had displayed a measure of resistance to his wiles.
"Korhal may be one of the jewels in the Confederate crown, but Umoja isn't without culture and breeding."
"I've never traveled there," said Arcturus. "Maybe I will soon, if all its maidens are like you."
"They're not, but I think you would like it there."
"I'm sure I would. Would you be my guide?"
"Perhaps," said Juliana. "I could show you Sarengo Canyon."
"Where the supercarrier crashedm" said Arcturus. "It's said to be breathtaking."
"You have no ideam" promised Juliana.
"Well, if we live through the night. I'll be sure to take you up on that," said Arcturus. his light tone robbing the commenl of any danger.
Juliana smiled, but before Arcturus could say any more, Ailin Pasleur said. "Katherine! The door!"
Arcturus looked over to the bank of monitors, but the vidcamera showing the corridor had been shot out in the fighting. A series of clicking beeps came from the keypad next to the door, and Katherine bent to examine the sequence before typing in her own code.
This was in turn answered by another series of key punches from the other side, which was again answered by Katherine. His mother nodded to Ailin Pasteur and then typed in a last key sequence that disengaged the locks.
Arcturus fell a mixture of relief and disappointment that their time here was to be cut short, but smiled as he fell Juliana's hand lake his and squeeze it in nervous anticipation.
The thick neosteel door of the refuge swung open and Angus Mengsk, senator of Korhal, father to Arcturus and Dorothy, and husband to Katherine, entered with an Impaler rifle cradled in his arms.
Angus was a broad, powerfully built man, his dark hair pulled into a long ponytail that, like his beard, was lined with silver streaks. His features were strong, gnarled with age, and a pair of cold gray eyes stared out from beneath a bushy set of eyebrows.
He swung the rifle over his shoulder and took his wife into a crushing bear hug.
"Thank God you're safem" he said. "I knew you'd look after them."
"We're all finem" said Katherine. "Achton's been hitm but he'll live. Is it over?"
Angus released his wife from his embrace and nodded. "They're all dead, yes."
Arcturus swallowed nervously as he saw his father finally notice him sitting on the bed.
Angus prized his gaze from Arcturus and shook hands with Ailin Pasteur, his scowl replaced with the practiced smile of a politician. "Good to see you're still alive, my friend."
"And you, Angus., said Pasteur. "A bad business this and no mistake. Confederates?"
"Maybe," said Angus. "We'll talk later, eh?"
Pasteur nodded, and Angus moved past him to stand before Arcturus, the politician's smile falling from his face like a discarded mask.
"What in the name of the fathers are you doing here, boy?" demanded Angus. "Have you been thrown out of the academy again?"
"Nice to see you too, Father," said Arcturus.
CHAPTER 2
ANGUS MENGSK POURED HIMSELF A GENEROUS measure of brandy from an expensive crystal decanter and downed the amber liquid in one swallow. He closed his eyes and allowed the molten taste to line his throat and settle in his stomach before pouring another glass. He lifted up the bottle inquiringly toward Ailin Pasteur, but the Umojan ambassador shook his head. "No thank you, Angus."
"I know you don't drink, Ailin," said Angus. "But under the circumstances..."
"Angus. I can't."