“No.” She lifted her head, the pearls whispering against her neck. “I was specifically excluded.”
He opened his mouth, about to ask the obvious question, when there was a knock at the silverwood doors. She turned, startled, her face betraying barely controlled panic.
Gundhalinu gestured her to silence, urging her aside as he moved toward the doors.
The doors swung inward before he could even reach them. He stopped, blinking, caught like a moth in the flood of light and noise. He stole a quick, cautioning glance at the dark angle behind the left-hand door, which now concealed the uninvited guest from view. She had closed her hand, stopping the light from the glowspot.
“Excuse me, sir—” The new intruder wore the formal clothing of a party guest, but Gundhalinu recognized the discreetly disguised communicator worn by house security personnel. She shifted slightly, trying to see past him into the dim-lit corners of the room.
“What is it?” he asked, his awkward discomfort sounding to his own ears like impatience.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” she said, “but I had a message that an unauthorized visitor had come into this room.”
“Not while I’ve been here,” he said, amazed at how easily the lie came out. “I’ve been trying to catch a few minutes of rest—” He nodded at the darkened space behind him in explanation.
“No one at all has been here?” She gave him the kind of look that he had once given to suspected conspirators.
“Someone did stop in for a moment to ask whether I needed anything.” He shrugged, all too casually. “Perhaps that was what it was.”
She nodded, looking relieved. “And do you need anything, sir—?”
“Only to be allowed to clean myself up and change in peace,” he said.
“Of course, sir.” She nodded again, chastened. “I’ll see that you aren’t disturbed.” She backed out of his presence, closing the doors after her.
Gundhalinu sighed, feeling giddy, as the woman in black stepped out of the shadows and opened her palm, releasing light into the space around them again.
“Thank you.” She smiled, bowing her head in gratitude, pearls whispering against her neck.
Gundhalinu opened his mouth to call on the room lights; hesitated, suddenly realizing that he preferred the shadows, the subtle mystery of this shared conspiracy. “Tell me,” he said, “what made you so certain that you could trust me?” He had thought for a moment that she had seen his sibyl trefoil; but it was inside his clothes, and he doubted that she could see the tattoo on his throat in this dim light.
“You have clear, deep eyes,” she said softly. “When you looked at me, I saw that you have an old soul.”
He almost laughed, taking it for fatuous nonsense, until he heard what she was really saying—paying a tribute to the ancestors he had been taught in youth to venerate, and emulate. He had never heard it put that way before. Instead of laughing, he smiled.
“And so I sensed that you would be an honorable man.”
It struck him as ironic that she considered it honorable to help a total stranger crash an exclusive party. He said, “I’ve never done this kind of thing before.” And yet he had, he suddenly realized. On Tiamat. But this time the results of his impulsiveness would hardly change the course of a world. Or even his life.
She bent her head, pearls whispering. “Then tell me why you trusted me.”
“I don’t think I can.” He glanced away, suddenly reluctant even to try putting it into words.
“Perhaps because you sensed that what I wished to do was, in truth, honorable.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, looking back at her. “You know, you needn’t be here under false pretenses. I can speak to someone….” No one had consulted him about the guest list—assuming, he supposed, that he had more important things on hs mind, which was true.
But she hesitated. “You’re Technician, aren’t you?”
He nodded, thinking that she seemed surprised. But then, he hardly looked the part, the way he was dressed. Perhaps she had taken him for some hired worker.
“Do you know Commander Gundhalinu personally?”
“Yes,” he said, not sure why he didn’t simply tell her the truth. But then, he was, not quite sure of anything just now, except that he was enjoying this game far too much. “Since childhood.”
“Then, no thank you. It wouldn’t be fair to compromise you with such an old friend.”
“It will hardly—” He broke off, as he remembered what she had been saying when they were interrupted. “Did you tell me that you were specifically excluded from attending this party?”
“Yes,” she said, less certainly than she had said anything since they met; as if she were regretting the confession now. She glanced away. “At his own order, 1 expect.”
“Really?” Gundhalinu said incredulously. “Does he know you, then?”
“No.” She looked back at him and there was sudden anger in her eyes. “He does not. Nor does he wish to, obviously.”
Gundhalinu blinked, wondering what odd quirk of social scandal he was inadvertently taking the blame for. He thought of his brothers, wondered suddenly whether she had had some unpleasant dealing with them. It would be like them to blame him for it. “Well …” he said selfconsciously, “he’s been away, you know, for some years. He’s changed a great deal… .”He smiled earnestly. “He used to be an insufferable little snot, I have to admit, but he’s become almost human, actually. If there’s been some misunderstanding, he’ll want to put it right. What was the problem—?”
She shook her head; the fall of pearls rustled with her refusal. She looked away from him again. “It’s nothing that should concern you … and I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, I don’t want that to be what you remember me by.” She smiled. a little sadly this time.
He sighed, and nodded in resignation. “Then, if you’ll excuse me, I have to change my clothes or they’ll be evicting me instead.” He gestured ruefully at his filthy coveralls, and toward the lighted doorway of the suite’s bath and dressing rooms. “Stay as long as you like, until you feel comfortable about joining the party.”
“Thank you.” Her smile widened. She put out her hand suddenly, as he began to turn away. “Who are you—?”
He shook his head. “No names. That would spoil it. The next time you see me, ask me again.”
Her mouth opened, and closed. Her smile turned ironic as she acknowledged his request, realizing that he had bested her at her own game.
He went on into the next room, carrying the half-empty goblet of liquor with him, not letting himself glance back. He locked the door behind him. He bathed and changed into his formal clothing, completing his transformation into a shining shadow of himself. He finished the water of life in the sapphire goblet slowlv. savoring it, fortifying himself for the ordeal to come. And then he left the suite hv a different door, without looking in to see whether his mystery guest was still waiting.
He stepped out into the bright splendor of the Pemattes manor house, entering a slutting sea of bodies; colors swirled like oil on water, music and the sound of voices filled his senses. He stopped moving as the door closed behind him, trying to remain unobserved for long enough to orient himself, waiting for the surge of adrenaline he needed to face the crowd. He had never been naturally outgoing, and he realized by now that he never would be, no matter how many parties he attended, or how many speeches he made. Entering a crowded room would always be like walking head on into a closed door.
“Commander!”
He looked up as NR Vhanu, his chief aide, materialized out of the crowd beside him. “Vhanu,” he said, smiling in relief as he returned a salute. Vhanu had been his liaison while this affair was being planned, and, he trusted, knew everything about it that he did not.