Free Absorption by David F. Weisman Page B

chair.
    “Brett, this is my best friend Katrina.”
    Katrina’s features had a somewhat Oriental cast, but she was larger boned than most women Brett knew with those ancestors.
    Ariel continued, “This is Katrina’s husband Kenny.”
    Kenny’s formal outfit was cut to make room for his thick muscles.
    “Pleased to meet you, Major.”
    Not everyone knew the rank insignia of the Federalist Space Force. Kenny went up a notch in Brett’s estimation.
    “You’ve already met my very good friend Michael Waterborne.”
    They sized each other up. Some would have thought Michael good looking enough for a male model, although Brett considered his features overly delicate. His clothing was garish, but based on the crowd so far it was probably the height of fashion here. Something in the set of his mouth suggested sullen petulance.
    Michael gave Brett a curt nod.
    “This is Dr. Muriel Buchanan, another friend who’s been through a lot with me.”
    The woman had gray hair and might have been in her early sixties. It was hard to tell for certain with Oceanian life expectancies. She wore pink lipstick and her dark brown eyes were alert.
    Kenny broke the slightly uncomfortable silence. “Have a seat. I’m sure Michael wants to thank you for giving him a chance to sit down before.”
    That seemed unlikely, given Michael’s opening remark. What was Kenny playing at? Since Brett was being sociable, he took the offered seat.
    Michael said, “It was kind of Ariel to make sure that someone from off planet didn’t feel out of place, but I was afraid you might misunderstand.”
    Kenny made a noise that might have been a cough – or a snort. I’ll just bet you were, Brett thought, but let no hint of it to reach his face. Without allowing another strained pause he said the first diplomatic sounding words that came to mind. “I’ve only seen one city so far, but I was thinking how beautiful this planet is.”
    This was uncomfortable, and hadn’t he said that before?
    Apparently Michael wasn’t a diplomat. “It’s a pity that some would use fear and anger to turn the misunderstandings between us to violence. Oceania and her technology are threats to nobody.”
    Kenny replied before Brett had a chance. “Is that the latest stuff Fletcher’s been pouring into your brain, Michael?”
    A jab at Michael instead of Brett? Had he found a Federalist sympathizer? It seemed unlikely. Brett was the outsider, and Brett would have resented any representative of the invasion force in their place. Wondering who the heck Fletcher was got pushed to the back of his mental queue.
    Ariel frowned slightly. “Kenny, maybe you’ve had enough to drink?”
    “That’s enough politics,” Katrina agreed immediately.
    Michael stood up and whispered in Ariel’s ear. The two of them got up to dance again. Since he didn’t understand the undercurrents here, a gracious departure might have been indicated, but Brett was curious. He rationalized that he was learning something about Oceanian public opinion.
    “So you don’t agree with Michael’s politics?”
    Kenny sounded sober when he spoke. “I’d agree if it were anyone else but him who said it.”
    “So what are your reasons for disliking Michael?
    After speaking, Brett realized he had unconsciously put a slight emphasis on ‘your,’ as if everyone alive had good but different reasons for disliking Michael.
    Instead of speaking, Kenny glanced first at his wife, then at Muriel. Oddly, it was Katrina who answered. “That’s none of your business.”
    Her tone was perfectly friendly, as if he weren’t necessarily prying but might not have been aware it was none of his business.
    “So tell me this. Why does he sit here? Because he can’t bear to be parted from Ariel while she talks to some friends who don’t like him?”
    It was very natural Michael would want to escort her to a dance and spend time with her there. Brett told himself he was only curious. A more personal interest would be