Slowly, the noise and voices died away. Chairs scraped. Heads turned. Eyes of Fantay and of fala, Mercurian and Martian, Chonya, Thorian, Pervod, searched out the table where the aide and the high commissioner sat.
Not quite steadily, then, the commissioner rose, a brimming kabat goblet in his hand. His eyes had the glassy shine of bright new mirrors, and his tunic was rumpled, twisted awry.
Swaying a little, the commissioner slapped loose-fingered at the blouse, as if to brush away the wrinkles. Kabat slopped from the goblet and spilled over his hand. Blinking, he looked down at the spreading green stain. A foolish grin flickered fleetingly on his face.
Ylana leaned towards him; spoke sharply.
The commissioner's head twitched. He straightened, and his shoulders snapped back to a too-stiff 'attention'. Jerkily, he raised his glass.
"A toast to our host, officers!" he cried in a drink-thickened voice. "A toast to Ktar Wassreck—may he rot in hell!"
Leaden silence came down on the room like a curtain. Furtive glances flicked out to the towering robots, shoulder to shoulder, that lined the walls.
It made Jarl Corvett smile a little, the way the officers hung back. Did some recall H'sana? Were others on Pallas? Free or captive, Ktar Wassreck still put cold fear in them!
Ktar Wassreck: Outlaw, scientist, scholar. Wassreck at Horla—gnome head tilted, eyes burning, laughing in the face of death. Wassreck ... and Sais....
Spasmodically, Jarl's fists clenched. His bruised head throbbed dully.