"My dear Theobold," Valentin interjected with an untroubled look, "you must not take wartime events so personally. I was only following orders." He laughed. "And besides, my dear Lixorian, a state of war never did exist between our two domains—only a state of commerce. Or am I mistaken that Theobold Interstellar was one of our main suppliers of collapsium?"
Clearly embarrassed, Theobold glanced nervously at Romanoff while he clinched his fists; then he recovered flawlessly. "As befits the major industry of a peace-loving, neutral domain such as Lixor," he said, "Theobold Interstellar does business with all qualified patrons."
"Of course, my dear Theobold," Valentin sneered as he returned his attention to Brim. "And now my unfortunate Imperial friend, are you ready for your next defeat at my hands?"
"What next defeat, Valentin?" a familiar female voice demanded suddenly from Brim's left. "I w-wasn't aware that you'd scored a first."
Brim caught his breath as he got to his feet. "Margot," he gasped.
Surprised by the swift barb, Valentin whirled to face his attacker. "Aha... Princess LaKarn," he said, recovering with a cruel smirk, "you are quick as ever to defend your onetime sweetheart." He glanced at his perfectly manicured fingernails. "But even Brim admits that Collingswood's old Truculent was scrapped after the encounter. No wonder they forced him out of the Fleet."
" Truculent died along with all three of your ships, Valentin," Brim retorted evenly. "Or had you forgotten how it ended?"
"Not at all," Valentin said archly. "But surely you and your delicious Princess recall that your salvation came from the salvos of her cousin's battlecruiser." He took a last drag on his cigarette and snuffed it out in an acrid cloud of smoke. "Had Onrad failed to arrive when he did, you, my intrepid Imperial Helmsman, would be a swarm of subatomics rushing outward through the Universe."
"I s-saw the g-gun camera recordings of that battle, Valentin," Margot said, stumbling slightly over her words. "And Wilf trashed your ships long before Onrad showed up, without any help at all."
Forgetting his clash with Valentin, Brim suddenly noticed that the Princess was steadying herself against the bar. Her eyes were drooping slightly, and she appeared to be... drunk. Anna Romanoff—who was staring at her with a horrified frown on her face—turned to Brim for a moment, then made a perplexed look when LaKarn himself strode up and clapped Valentin on the back.
The Baron wore a suit of civilian evening clothes that outdid even Theobold's, especially with the stunning red, green, and white sash he wore diagonally across his shirt front. "Kirsh, old man," he exclaimed. "I see my drunken wife has already found you." He laughed, at the same time placing a lustful arm around Groener's waist and nodding to Theobold. His face was flushed as if he also were suffering from one too many goblets of meem. He glanced at Brim, and abruptly his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Well," he said, "this is a reunion, isn't it? I should have known Margot would find you first thing off." He laughed salaciously. "You'll be disappointed this time, though, Brim. Since she's gotten the Habit, she's absolutely lousy in bed."
Brim inadvertently glanced at Romanoff, who had been watching him with an expression of dismay on her face. She looked away immediately as if she were terribly embarrassed, then—without turning her head—she whispered to Theobold. A moment later, the Lixorian made a few lame excuses about busy workdays on the morrow, and they hurried away into the crowd. Brim felt a momentary sense of loss as they left, but when he turned to Margot—who was standing, or rather hanging on, silently at the bar—the sight drove every other thought from his mind. He was at her side in a moment. "Margot," he asked desperately, "what's happened to you? What can I do to help?" Her eyes were glistening with tears.
"You can do nothing," she whispered wretchedly. "I-I'm not drunk—it's TimeWeed, Wilf: the Habit. I love it," she panted, "and I'd kill for it."
Clenching his teeth in distress, Brim took her arm in his hand. "Margot," he said urgently. "Don't say that.
By the Universe, I'll get you out of this some way."
"No!" she cried with a wild look of alarm and pulled her arm from his grip. "I don't want out of it!" She closed her eyes. "I lied to you at the embassy," she whispered. "It's not Rodyard, it's... it's the xaxtdamned H-habit." Then she shut her eyes. "Oh Universe," she groaned, swaying dangerously against the bar. "Don't look at what I've become, Wilf. Remember me the way I was." Then she burst into tears.
Brim reached for her again, but he was brushed roughly aside by the squat, masculine matron he'd spied the previous year. In a moment, she had Margot supported upright by some miraculous grip around her waist and was shuffling off toward the exit where a black-uniformed Army officer from the Torond waited with a wrap over his arm. Stunned, the Carescrian heard LaKarn laugh cruelly in the background.
"Well, Brim?" he gloated. "What's the matter? Has she really changed all that much? Doesn't she appeal to you anymore?" He sniggered wetly through a goblet of meem Valentin had placed before him. "You didn't even try for a little feel, did you?"
Brim started from his chair, but Valentin stepped in his way, grinning cruelly. "One more step, Brim, and I shall have you ejected from the hall."
"You and who else?" Brim growled, clenching his fists.
Valentin laughed again. "Oh, I shan't even have to touch you, Carescrian," he said with a look of revulsion. "They will do it for me." With a nod of his head, he indicated six beefy "civilians" with blond hair and blue eyes who had materialized from the crowd.
Brim narrowed his eyes. "I'll make both of you hurt plenty before they get me, hab'thall," he said, using the most insulting malediction he could dredge from his store of gutter Vertrucht. He started for the Leaguer with blood in his eye.
Valentin shrank against the bar while the guards began to close in from all sides. "Wait!" he choked.
"Would you really sacrifice your chance to fly in the race, Brim? Remember where you are... I shall have you barred from competition instantly."
The Carescrian stopped short and bit his lip in anger. He closed his eyes and took a step back. "You cowardly bastard," he whispered under his breath.
Valentin smiled. "Cowardly? We shall see who is cowardly during the race, Brim," he snapped. "Because I shall beat you there more thoroughly than you have been beaten before in your worthless life."
At this, LaKarn staggered to his feet and threw an arm around Valentin's neck. "Unless I beat both of you," he said, holding up a boastful index finger. "Then I'll have beaten him even worse." He laughed coarsely. "It'll serve the bastard right for spreading my wife's gorgeous legs so often!"
"All right, Rogan," Valentin said, thrusting his chin forward. " One of us will give the Carescrian peasant the thrashing of his life." Then he snickered. "But your drivers will have their hands full beating our new Gantheissers."
"We'll see," LaKarn said, grinning now from ear to ear. "My new Dampier may send your engineers back to their design boards this year."
With a glance, Valentin reassured himself that Brim was defused and waved away the guards. "Perhaps, my competitive friend," he suggested to LaKarn, "we should go somewhere and discuss this—where we can share special entertainments."
LaKarn's eyes lit up. "Yes," he said with a look of childish excitement, "the special entertainments."
"See you at the races, Brim," Valentin said airily, steadying the Baron on his feet, then steering him toward a doorway beside the bar. He turned momentarily to Groener, who had remained standing quietly at the bar. "I shall expect you to be at the shed early tomorrow, Praefect," he said. "There is much work to be done." Then he followed LaKarn through the doorway and was gone.