Molding his face into a careful expression of relaxed disinterest, Koven turned around to face The Hog.
Bruschloss extended a pink gobby hand. "Koven, did you say? I'm always delighted to see anyone here with Earth blood in his veins." He laughed self-consciously, and the rolling folds of his belly quivered. "Even though we are on opposite sides of the political fence we can still be friends, I hope. You arrived at a good time. Tonight's the celebration." He seemed to breathe more quickly at the thought; he savored the words like a man aroused by a fetish.
"Spotwood's been telling me," Koven said.
"Has he, eh? He enjoys them too, I'll wager." No reply from Spotwood, save the pop of another gin globe being opened.
"Have a drink, Bruschloss?" Spotwood asked.
"No, I don't think so. Liquor makes me very sleepy. I want to be alert for the ceremony tonight. I love to watch Chemin dance."
"Quite a woman," Spotwood agreed.
"Er ... what is your line of business?" inquired Bruschloss of Koven, elevating the wrinkles on his steaming forehead into an expression of curiosity.
"I came to help Jimmy finish up in a hurry."
"Trying to discover whether you might seed Valaya for platinum?" asked Bruschloss with perfect innocence.