"You have much on your mind, no doubt," said the abbot neutrally. He steered the car back toward the massive monastery tower.
Rue sat back in the deep upholstery, no longer seeing the cliffs with their wheeling birds and overhanging towers. She was thinking that she could completely isolate herself from Crisler while they were here and there was nothing he could do about it. If she was truly a cycler captain, it was time for her to adopt the responsibilities to her own people that went with the title— far away from the grasping hands of the Rights Economy.
RUE AND MAX stared down at the Great Hall from behind an ornate carved screen. The place was packed with extremely rich looking people. "Oh, shit," said Rue. "What are we going to do?"
"Don't look at me, this was your idea," he said. Max was still annoyed that she'd had him decanted. The taste for adventure he'd had on Treya seemed entirely gone. Even the exotic wonders of Lux seemed to hold no fascination for him.
The monks had dressed him up in a gray cycler crew uniform and so far Max hadn't been able to muss up this suit. She knew he would before the evening was out, but at least he'd get through the reception line with his reputation intact. And he looked great just now.
She told him that and he shrugged. "I clean up well. Shall we do it?"
They walked down a long curving hallway that finally opened up on a gallery above the cavernous space of the hall. A sweeping limestone staircase dominated this end of the chamber and they were forced to walk down this, arm in arm, while everyone in the place watched. This was the idea, apparently; everybody else had done it.
They were met at the foot of the stairs by the abbot, who proceeded to introduce Rue to the mayor of Lux, several iron-haired industrialists with predatory eyes, the entire city council, some artists and musicians whose names or reputations she pretended to know, a famously charitable philanthropist, and a deep-diving adventurer invited to the party to add zest. This was before they'd gotten ten meters into the hall, which was forested with suits and gowns.
"Ah, yes, I'd forgotten why I became a recluse," said Max during a brief break. He smiled and nodded at someone in passing, then said, "Two rules: one, stay near the drinks table. Two: never agree to do anything with anybody, even if it sounds like fun. Hey, in fact, tell them I'm in charge of your schedule and they should come to me to arrange things."
"What are you talking about?" Nobody had done anything except say hello to her.
"You'll see."
They met Rebecca near the center of the scrum. Rue's doctor looked stunning in a long silver ball gown, her hair done up with amber pins. She hugged Rue and Max. "This place is wonderful! I'm so glad I came; I just wish we'd been able to bring Mina."
It had been something of a shock when Rebecca had taken up with one of the female officers on the Banshee. In retrospect, it had explained much to Rue— to her embarrassment she realized she should have known early on in her acquaintance with the doctor. "We'll have to take pictures to show her," said Rue to Rebecca now. "Where're the others?"
"Laurent and Mike are over there," she pointed.
"You see? The drinks table," said Max with a nudge.
"…And Crisler and his people are there."
The admiral was all decked out in full uniform and looked completely comfortable among the generals and flight jockeys who had surrounded his men. He seemed to be having a good time.
A succession of charming middle-aged men drifted past, all making invitations for Rue to join them for dinner, or golf (whatever that was), or a tour of the city. Max stood off to one side, imperceptibly shaking his head. She thanked them for their invitations and said she was booked up. She supposed they saw a business opportunity in her cycler.
Enthusiastic couples stopped her to ask about the Envy. She told them superficial things about the cycler, but by now her natural caution had asserted itself and she let out only the smallest bits of information she could get away with.
In truth, the new habitat was amazing and she was bursting to talk about it to somebody. A kind of cylindrical crystal palace lit from its axis, the habitat rotated to produce about one g, a rather dizzying spin considering its small size. Its interior was one open space, which over the first few days after its creation had sprouted a kind of grassy plant that could (Katz had discovered) be eaten.
The grass had more in common with human DNA than any Earthly plant. It was also an efficient recycler of gases, liquids, and solid waste. Katz estimated that it could support a population of well over a hundred humans, maybe indefinitely.
Orchestral music started up somewhere and Rue saw that couples were starting to waltz in a cleared area of floor. No sooner had she noticed this than a young man stepped up boldly and asked her to dance.
"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. But thank you, I mean…"
She fended off several more offers over the next minute. Dr. Herat and Mike were drifting over, occasionally pausing to talk to various bald, distracted looking men who were minimally well dressed and thus must be scientists.
"This place is amazing!" Herat was saying. "They say there's some kind of ruins in the ocean, but they're so far down nobody's been able to do more than map them by radar. I'd love to come back here when we're done with the Envy."
"Mr. Bequith," Rue said as they strolled over. "Do you know how to waltz?"
"Yes, I do," he said.
"Then perhaps you can teach me."
Rebecca grinned and tipped her glass to Max.
"I realize you're the captain, but I think you should let me lead," he said.
"Whatever you say."
He showed her the basic footwork. It was easy enough; they moved to the edge of the dance floor and Rue took a deep breath and let him pull her into the swaying throng. Michael Bequith put his hand on the small of Rue's back and she forgot everything else.
She stumbled a lot and laughed at herself, but Mike's strength literally pulled her through her missteps. It was thrilling and her only regret was that she wasn't decked out in one of those fantastic confections the other women were wearing. It must look odd, two uniformed figures dancing out here.
But no, there went two men, who were obviously into each other. To hell with it, it was time she just cut loose and enjoyed herself. Rue laughed again and let Mike twirl her around so that she almost lost her sunglasses.
The song ended and they danced another, then another. Just when she was getting giddy and tired, a strong voice behind her said, "May I have this dance?"
She turned. This man was unknown to her; he was probably in his forties and had strong, severe features and close-cropped gray hair. A gaudy ring through one ear spoiled the military effect.
He was dressed in a well-worn counterpart to the uniform she had on.
Mike bowed and let go of her hand. He had that mysterious smile on his face that he sometimes got— he seemed to be scoring some point in a game only he understood.
"R-Rue Cassels," she said as the cycler captain took her hand. "Captain of Jentry's Envy."
"Travis Li, captain of the Dauntless."
Somehow, they were dancing. She looked around for Mike, but he had vanished among the bodies. Rue tried to think of something clever to say to this captain Li. Her mind was a blank.
"I hear you've just returned from Chandaka," he said. "What's the situation there?"
She frowned. "…Situation?"
"You rode a beam into Chandaka. That must mean they're still maintaining their ties with the halo."
"Ah, I see." She was dancing with a dashing cycler captain and he wanted her opinion on something political! Where was Jentry when you needed to rub his nose in something?