Free Cluster Command: Crisis of Empire II by David Drake, W. C. Dietz

lost in the crush.
    “General Merikur, I’d like you to meet so and so.”
    “I suppose I shouldn’t ask, General, but all the girls want to know, why is your hair white?”
    “No offense, General, but this alien equality stuff is rubbish. I trust you believe in keeping the trolls in their place?”
    “General, it’s my pleasure to introduce Nola Rankoo, and her husband Coda.”
    The crowd faded into the background as Merikur gave Nola Rankoo his full attention.
    It would have been hard not to. The woman was huge. A full foot taller than him. The hair coiled on top of her head added to the impression of height; her red evening gown consisted of more skin than cloth, revealing large sections of her muscular body. There was no artifice about her. She was exactly what she seemed.
    A powerful and dangerous woman.
    And not just because of her size. Even greater danger lay in her eyes. She was an enemy, and they both knew it. Her hand closed around his with bone-crushing strength. “Welcome to Augustine, General. I’ve heard so much about you.”
    Merikur tried to ignore the pain. She wanted him to withdraw, to admit his weakness, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. Forcing a smile he said, “All good, I trust. My, that’s a beautiful necklace. May I see it?”
    Placing his right boot on her left foot, he stepped forward while shifting all his weight to that foot. His left hand went up to touch her heavy necklace. With one movement of his hand he could choke her with it. He saw her wince.
    Rankoo let go of his hand and he took a step back. Coda moved in but stopped when his wife held up a hand.
    “As you were, Coda. The general and I were just getting acquainted. It’s been a pleasure, General. I hope you’ll live long enough to have dinner with us sometime.”
    “I’m impressed,” Bethany said as Rankoo and Coda moved away. “You certainly have a way with women.”
    Merikur responded absently as his mind ran through the possibilities implied by her expressed “hope.” Was it a manipulative threat intended to bring him into line? A promise? Or a mere empty boast? Though she might be arrogant enough to telegraph a punch, Nola Rankoo didn’t strike him as someone who made empty boasts.
    Be conservative then. Attempted manipulation could be ignored, so assume the implied threat was real; when and where would it happen? He’d have to assume the attempt could come at any moment—and clearly the governor’s enemies wouldn’t try to kill his general without trying for the man himself. He turned to Bethany. “Let’s find your uncle. I think he’s in danger.”
    Bethany’s eyes widened, but she nodded silently and followed as he started pushing his way through the crowd towards the long buffet table. He caught a glimpse of Windsor every now and then. He was standing at the far end of the buffet table next to Trent. Eitor Senda was by his side. They were surrounded by a large group of people. Merikur and Bethany were only halfway down the length of the buffet table when his AID buzzed him. “Hey, Your generalship . . . somebody’s pumping a pulsed signal through here. The source is within a hundred feet.”
    “Did it just start?”
    “Yup.”
    Straight-arming an elderly woman, Merikur charged forward. “Senator, hit the deck!”
    But he was too late. Everything shifted into slow motion. As Merikur went for his gun, he saw a Cernian servant plunge both hands into a cake, and pull out a pistol. Off to his right, another Cernian ripped the back off an upholstered chair and pulled out an auto repulsor. A Dreed reached under a table and grabbed a needle gun taped there days before. Merikur sensed rather than saw that others were doing likewise all around the ballroom.
    Whap! Whap! Whap! Glass beads began to fly in every direction. Women screamed, but no louder than some of the gorgeously attired military personnel of both sexes. Merikur watched in horror as a line of miniature explosions ran the length of the