"I suppose shipping them back isn't an option?"
"No, they'd kill them, at least mute them. He's stuck with them."
"That's too bad." Kate thought about it. "He's a nice boy, and if he's minded to marry, he should have the chance. You suppose those women would listen to me?"
Meyerson looked her up and down. "As a messenger of the devil, maybe. They're very serious about their religion."
"And I'm very serious about mine, Wally." They had come to first names several days before, and Kate refused to struggle with Waltraude after the first few tries. "You don't have to go barefoot and wear rags to be a believer." She cocked her head. "You ought to send those women to us—we'll make real Texans out of 'em. They had to have some gumption to get up and leave in the first place."
Day by day, the officers relaxed around her, and if she hadn't had the appetite of a healthy horse, she'd have starved, for all the talking at the table.
She talked more than she asked questions, and the information flowed her way without her having to ask. By the time they reached Rockhouse Major, she had most of them eating out of her hand, men and women, and had invited most of them to come visit sometime. She thought a few of them actually would.
All but the young lieutenant junior grade who had remained coolly distant no matter what. Well, if he wanted to sulk, let him. She had many, many other fish to fry, and others had told their own tales of Barin Serrano and Esmay Suiza. So he was in love with a hero—if the stories were true, Suiza would have made a good Ranger—and perhaps worried about whether she'd stick it out.
Security concerns kept her from touring Rockhouse Major, though she could tell it was much bigger than any of the orbital stations in the Lone Star Confederation. A Fleet shuttle took her downside, and she got her first look at Castle Rock.
Boring, she thought, but did not of course say. The government buildings, mostly gray stone, looked substantial and dull. Insides matched the outsides; the Foreign Office was all dark paneling and dark tiles and thick dark green or blue carpeting in the offices she was led to. Everyone wore dark suits—men and women both—and had a dark, muffled, hurried way of speaking.
"Sera Briarly—so pleased—" That was the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the first person she'd seen in this dismal building who looked completely awake. He wore a different style of shirt, with a tiny ruffle at the collar, and he had several blue-and-silver rings in his ear. She knew what that would mean in San Antone, but not here. "You are so . . . so
decorative
, my dear."
This she had met before, twinkling of the eyes and all. "Mister Minister," she said, putting out her hand. "I'm Ranger Briarly, but you can call me Kate."
"But I thought your . . . er . . . Rangers . . . were sort of . . . er . . . policemen?"
"That's right," Kate said cheerfully; she saw some of the man's staff wincing, and grinned at them, too. The way they acted, you'd think this solid stone building would fall over if anyone spoke louder than a murmur.
"But surely you—you're not—I mean, you're more of a . . . er . . . honorary title . . ."
That was going too far. "Mister Minister, I am a Ranger, same as any other Ranger; I qualified on the same course, and I can and will demonstrate my skills any time you or anyone else questions them." She had no weapon, of course, but she could break this fellow's neck—or any other bone—without one.
"Oh . . . certainly, certainly. Now, uh . . . we are having a reception in your honor this afternoon, in the Palace. I hope you aren't too tired . . ."
"Not at all." She was never too tired to party.
The Palace was another pile of gray stone, with outcrops on one side of a curious buff color. Inside, the formal rooms had the same sort of dull, dark look as those in the Minister's offices.
Kate was on her best behavior, smiling like a car dealer. She had been through her share of fancy events, and knew that her role, as honored guest, was to smile and tell everyone how beautiful things were. She told the new Speaker what an honor it was to meet him, and thought what piggy eyes he had. She told his wife what a lovely dress she had on, even though she longed to tell the woman that she should never in this world wear that shade of green, it made her look sick. She told the Foreign Minister, whose name was Pedar Orregiemos, that she liked his ruffled shirt, though she contemplated mentioning that a ruffled shirt plus those pretty rings in the ears would have branded him an obvious mango in the Lone Star Confederation. Then she overheard part of a conversation and learned that the local slang for the same thing was "pet."
It was all intensely boring, since she didn't know enough yet to make sense of most that she heard. Her feet hurt, and her head was beginning to throb. Then Pedar bustled up to her leading a tall blonde woman whose face Kate recognized from her briefings.
"And this is Ranger Briarly," Pedar said. "Brun Meager Thornbuckle . . ."
Kate looked at the blonde woman who had been a prisoner so long, whose father was dead, whose predicament had led directly to her own presence here—and saw a familiar shadow in those blue eyes. Automatically, she softened her approach. "Hi there—I hope you can forgive my havin' that kind of a title."
"Well—" the woman's voice was slightly husky. "You don't look much like
their
Rangers."
"Hon, they aren't Rangers; they're trash. Lower'n a groundhog's burrow. A brick can call itself a diamond—doesn't make it one."
The woman grinned, her face suddenly relaxing. "And you're the genuine diamond?"
"Pure carbon crystal, that's me," Kate said. "Cubic, but not zirconium."
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry—slang's hard to translate. Listen, my feet hurt—can we go sit down somewhere?" If she could make friends with this woman—and she liked her already—maybe she could get the embargo lifted faster than anyone had thought. Even Kate at her most optimistic hadn't thought she'd get to meet the cause of it all, or that the woman would want to meet her. But that was obvious from the satisfaction on her face: she'd come here with a purpose, and Kate was part of it.
"The reception's nearly over, Sera—Ranger—" Pedar said. "The car will soon be here to take you back to your hotel."
"Why don't you come with me?" Kate asked Brun, as much to annoy Pedar as anything else. "We could have dinner—"
Brun smiled. "Thanks—I'd like that." Pedar scowled, and Kate grinned to herself. Had he thought he was going to move in on her himself? Fat chance.
They ate in Kate's suite, which was as dull as everything else she'd seen so far. What was the good of silk on the walls if it was gray? And muted green and blue upholstery . . . cold, unwelcoming, dull.
"You people don't like bright colors much, do you?" Kate asked, halfway through a main course of some nondescript meat with a lot of fancy vegetables heaped over it. They hadn't even had steak on the menu.
Brun looked around. "This isn't very bright, is it? I'm used to it, I guess. Castle Rock is pretty conservative."
"That's what you call it? That Foreign Office is like a funeral home; the only color in it is your Minister, and he's—"
"Awful," Brun said, wrinkling her nose. "Such a little climber—"
"Climber?"
"Oh, yes. Minor family, so he pushes and climbs, trying to make himself bigger. Well, he got a Ministry, though who knows what he did for Hobart to get it."
"Hobart's your Speaker?"
"Right. But Pedar wants more . . . you wouldn't believe, he's after my mother."
"Your mother?" Kate reminded herself that this was Lord Thornbuckle's widow.
"Yes. He had the nerve to tell me, when Mother'd left for Sirialis, that he could now offer so much to a lonely widow—I nearly threw him out the window."
Kate shook her head. "I wondered if maybe he was a . . . what is it,
pet?
. . . with those rings and that shirt."
"No—the rings are Rejuvenant rings. They're actually the medical codes: they can be implanted or worn, but a lot of people like to wear them."
"How many times has he been pickled?"
"I don't know. I didn't count. Several. Why do you call it pickled?"
"Preserved, you know." Kate held up one of the wrinkled green things she hoped was a pickled cucumber. "Lasts nearly forever."
"Mmm." Brun ate silently a few minutes, then asked, "What do you make of our Speaker?"
Kate looked at her, mind on full alert. "You're asking a visitor to criticize your government?"
Brun flushed a little. "He's a Conselline, and we're in the Barraclough Sept—"
"Is that families or religions?" Kate asked.
Brun made a face. "Maybe both. Let's just say that the Consellines and the Barracloughs have been rivals for a long time, in a genteel sort of way. I don't like Hobart, but I wondered if maybe an outsider would see him more clearly."
"He's nobody I'd buy a ranch from," Kate said. "Not without walkin' over every inch of it, and checkin' the title since God made it. He's got a mean mouth, and his wife's scared of him."
"You saw that?"
"Oh, yes. Just like I saw that you didn't like Pedar with the rings and ruffles holding your hand when he led you over. But you wanted to talk to me."
"You don't miss much, do you?"
"Rangers don't. Now why don't you get down to what you really wanted to talk about, so we can enjoy dessert later and not have to tippytoe?" Kate pushed her plate away and leaned back, fixing Brun with the look that had brought confessions out of the Harkness boys.
"I hate it when everyone is smarter than I am." Brun pushed her own plate back.
"They aren't, when you leave your brain on," Kate said. "It didn't take a lot of intelligence to recognize that you wanted to meet me as much as I was glad to meet you."
"You haven't met Esmay," Brun said. "She's smarter—"
"Spare me." Kate ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it out. "I heard plenty about Miss Genius on the trip over here. Everyone says she's so wonderful, and I'll bet she is. But—she isn't you."
"No, she's—"
Kate wasn't about to let her take off down that trail, whatever it was. "Lord, girl, you sound like you haven't got a friend in the world. Didn't you ever have a best friend?"
"Yes, but she got married."
"Oh, brother. You and me both. Sally and I were closer than twins, and then she went all goopy over Carl, and that was the end of it. Two babies. She says she's still my friend, but all she wants to do is tell me about those two rugrats . . . which one put jam in the processor, and how the other one is smarter than any ten college professors. My mother told me she'll come out of it in a few years, but in the meantime I have to pretend to care what some grubby little kid is doing."
"And you don't?"
"No. If there's supposed to be some instinctive maternal drive, I missed out at the feed trough. What about you?"
"Me, neither. I don't want to hurt them, but—"
"You didn't want to care for 'em either. Makes sense to me. Where are your boys?"
"A friend of my mother's took them, and found a home for them. But I worry—"
"Don't. I mean, don't worry more than you have to. And you're evading the subject. You didn't just accept a dinner invitation because you thought a stranger might be lonesome. You just about committed the impossibility of telepathic communication, wantin' me to figure a way we could talk."
"Or to get away from Pedar; he's been wanting Mother's ansible call number. All right, all right, I'll tell you." She scratched at a spot on the tablecloth. "I want to find out who killed my father, and what kind of hold Hobart Conselline has on my Uncle Harlis, who's after my father's estate."
"Now that's smart. That's a goal we can work on."
"We?"
"Of course,
we
. Hell's bells, sweetheart, I'm not going to leave you to hunt this hog alone. And I need you, anyway, to help me find my way through this maze of protocol y'all live with. Besides, if you come out convinced that I'm not a monster, maybe you'll help me get your government to let up on Lone Star Confederation funds. You did know our citizens can't access their money in your banks, didn't you?"
"No!" Brun looked startled. "When did that happen?"
"Right after the assassination. And all our citizens expelled, and the borders closed. Even your father realized we had nothing to do with that bunch of idiots who captured you. This embargo thing has put a real crimp in our economy; the Familias is our biggest external trading partner."
"I didn't know," Brun said. "It didn't come up in the Council meeting." She scowled. "A lot of things seem to be happening without coming up before the Council . . ."
Kate glanced around the room. She had made it as secure as possible, but she didn't trust any public space.