Sir Litáhn came up with more congratulations and another brimming goblet. By the time a silver trumpet sang the call to dinner, Reith's head was spinning. He started determinedly for Alicia, intending to escort her into the mess and seat her beside him. But an officer buttonholed him to discuss Terran military history. When at last he escaped, he saw that Randal Fairweather had pushed through the circle of Krishnan admirers and captured Alicia's arm. The tall actor was now attentively escorting her into the mess.
Reith arrived at the long table to find all the places near Alicia occupied. He had to take a seat well away from the clump of Terrans that included Bennett Ames, the assistant grip, his wife Cassie Norris, Randal Fairweather, and Jacob White. Alicia sat between Fair-weather and White, facing a row of Krishnan officers of various ranks.
Cassie Norris, wearing a fishnet dress and nothing beneath, kept trying to invite Randal Fairweather's attention. (She must, thought Reith, have forehandedly sent that dress up ahead; most of the Terrans were still in the outdoor clothing they had worn through the day.) But the actor, ignoring Cassie's spectacularly displayed charms, devoted himself to Alicia, detailing his adventures as he played the tide role in Sir Francis Drake. On Cassie's other side, Bennett Ames scowled. Jacob White, frowning in concentration, tried his rudimentary Mikardandou on a Krishnan neighbor. On Reith's side of the table, a well-liquored Cyril Ordway, waving a piece of roast shaihan on an eating spear, declaimed: "One thing I like about this bloody planet is, plenty of beef even if the cow had six legs. Back home, a steak the size of your thumb costs the national debt ..."
Reith scarcely tasted his food. Afterwards, during a showing of the day's rushes, he fell asleep in the darkened room until Fallon nudged him awake.
"Pull up your socks, old boy!" whispered the consul. "You're snoring."
Reith looked up blearily as an officer went around lighting candles set in mirrored sconces on the wall. Then he felt Fodor's large, hairy hand on his arm.
"Fergus!" said Fodor. "I am having anudder party, very exclusive. You and the little Alicia, both come along!"
When Reith's head cleared enough for him to remember anything, he was seated on a divan in a large room, occupied by seven others. Looking about, he wondered if the commandant had turned over his private quarters to Fodor; for the room was sumptuously appointed, with fur rugs on the polished floor and pictures of battle scenes on the walls. Two open doors led to bedrooms.
Silently, Reith berated himself because he, usually one of the most self-disciplined of men, had lowered his guard long enough to get tight—something that had not befallen him a dozen times in an active life. When he managed clearly to focus his eyes, he saw that the other men, besides his host, were Anthony Fallon and Jacob White. The females were Alicia, Gashigi, and Fodor's two women. Reith turned to Michelle.
"How did you get here, Mrs. Fodor? I didn't see you during the shooting."
"La Madame Gashigi, she brought us up in her carriage," said Michelle with a charming smile.
"It is time," said Gashigi, "zat I visited zis pa-lace for ze gov—governam—for ze Ga-rand Master. So I sought it would be nice to ba-ring ze gir-rals to zeir man."
"Anudder round!" shouted Fodor to the Krishnan steward. "Now we sing! I lead!"
Fodor had been drinking two goblets to Reith's one, but the drink seemed merely to make the director more boisterously self-assertive. He bellowed songs in five languages and tried to lead the others. Reith, a mediocre singer, followed a couple of ditties in French and German, but Magyar baffled him.
"Now we dance!" cried Fodor, producing a violin and kicking back a rug with such force as to hurl it into a heap in a corner. Rising, Alicia asked: "What dances do you play, Attila?"
"All kinds! What you like? Waltz? Fox-trot? Khopak? Zulu?"
"How about a tango?"
"Sure, I know a hundred!"
"That would be just divine! Fergus dances a splendid tango." Turning, she grasped Reith's wrist and pulled. "Come on, Fergus! Let's show them!"
"Out of practice," he mumbled. "Besides, I'm afraid I've drunk more than I should have."
"Oh, come on I You'll do fine!"
He got unsteadily to his feet and followed her to the cleared space. Fodor played Jacob Gade's Jalousie and followed it with one of Carlos Gardel's tangos. Reith did not know whether his reflexes took over, or whether Alicia was so good a dancer that she could follow the most inept partner. But he managed the corte, the Argentine cross, and the double flare without bumping anyone, losing his balance, or treading on Alicia's toes.
Reith became aware that Fallon was dancing with Nancy. He glimpsed Gashigi and Michelle trying to haul Jacob White to his feet, despite White's protest that he had never learned to dance.
When Fodor stopped, Reith sank back on his sofa. Fodor pressed another drink upon him. Being overheated with exertion, he drank most of it before he realized his precarious state. Then he set down the goblet and stared glassily at the others, feeling sweat bead his forehead as he fought to keep control.
"Now I show you a dance!" boomed Fodor. "Who else plays the fiddle?"
"I learned as a boy," said White, staring shyly at his hands. "I'll give it a try."
"Know any Gypsy dances? That's what I do!"
"Matter of feet, I had to practice one of them, day after day. Here goes!"
White sailed into Tzigane, by the twenty-first century composer Milescu. Fodor danced solo, stamping and whirling. When White ended the piece, Fodor clapped him on the back with a force that nearly felled him; then put away the violin, gulped another drink, and roared: "Now for the game!"
Fodor whipped out another deck of cards backed by the cipher "F. A. G." and said, "We don't got a table, so we sit on the floor in a circle. Come on!"
He collected an armful of cushions from the sofa and spread them on the floor. "You sit there, Jack! You there, Fergus! You there, Tony! You girls, take the places between."
"Where's Cyril?" asked White.
"He got drunk and is somewhere sleeping it off," roared Fodor. "So in his place I got Tony here, even though the Limey party-pooper don't drink!
"Now, my friends, we will have a orgy. A real orgy. You know what that is? I bet none of you ever had one. So you will remember this night as long as you live. If anyone don't want this kind of fun, he better get the hell out! Okay?
"First, we play strip poker, like I said the other time at Novo. Any objections?"
Reith glanced about, expecting Fodor's women to object again; but only Nancy uttered a timid squeak of: "Well, I don't know ..." Fodor ignored her. White mumbled something about its being against his religion; Fallon grinned in anticipation. Alicia, silent, had donned her poker face.
"Everybody knows the rules?" said Fodor. "You, Gashigi?"
"I haff pa-layed it only one time," she replied. "I sink I know ze rules."
"Fine; maybe we strip you first. The unit of betting is one garment, represented by one chip. Once off, the garment stays off. Straight draw, nossing wild. Here, Fergus, cut!"
Fallon spoke. "But what's the point, Attila? Mere nudity means nothing on this world, especially when we've all been bathing together in the river. Everyone knows what the others look like."
"I know, but I haven't finished. To add a pinch of pepper to the party, I make a new rule. When one of you strips a player of the odder sex, they drop out and screw, right then and there!"
The other players traded startled glances, showing various degrees of apprehension and anticipation. White, looking around like a beast in a trap, mumbled: "Where?"
"Anywhere—on the rug, on the sofa, or you can go in the bedroom."