The music was tasteful and very expensive, as was the food and the mansion and the people at the party. Tayvis stood to one side, trying to avoid the swirling masses of young men and women. He found it hard to be interested in them or their topics of conversation. Somehow, gossip about who was sleeping with whom, even though officially frowned on by parents, wasn't as important to him as it seemed to be with everyone else. Especially not when he considered what was happening out on the borders of the Empire. People were dying, the government was crumbling, and no one at the center of things seemed to even notice.
He took his glass of expensive fruit punch and slipped off the wide patio into the garden. The night air was perfumed by a thousand different blossoms. The sky overhead swirled with bright stars. The air was perfect, balmy and only slightly cool. A stray breeze ruffled his hair. He found a spot near the top of the rise where the house was situated. The garden tumbled down a gentle slope below him.
There were others in the garden. He heard a woman laugh. Soft voices filtered up to him on the errant breeze. He leaned on a retaining wall and stared overhead.
Lowell had promised he would send Dace as soon as he could get her off Tivor. That was a long time ago. Weeks. And not one word, from Dace or Lowell. Dace had no business in the Patrol, especially as an Admiral. Lowell should never have let her work for him, officially or not. But he understood why she had, why Lowell had to send her after the Sessimoniss. But not Tivor.
He considered again, for the thousandth time, going to Tivor himself. He'd gotten so far as to check shipping schedules. Not a single ship was willing to risk the flight, not for any amount of money. He could have gone to Jasyn. She would have gone after Dace without a second thought. He hadn't been able to find her or her ship. The Phoenix was out of reach.
So Malcolm Tayvis attended the parties his mother insisted he attend and spent most of the rest of his time finding ways not to worry about Dace.
"So this is where you disappeared to," his mother said as she joined him at the retaining wall. A spray of blossoms dangled near her hand. She lifted them to her face and breathed in their fragrance. "Your brother was looking for you."
"Which one?" he asked idly fingering his glass. The juice was too sweet for his taste.
"I don't remember which," his mother answered. She shrugged. "They all look alike now that they're grown up. Copies of their father."
Tayvis had been surprised to see his father at the same party as his mother. The Count Visquino had invited both not realizing their past connections. The two of them were stiffly polite to each other. Deena, his mother, had even unbent enough to be polite to his father's second wife. Their children were also in attendance, Tayvis' half brothers and sister. He really didn't know them, any of them. He'd said his hellos and decided he had done as much as polite society dictated.
"So what are you thinking?" his mother asked. "You look so solemn. You don't smile much. Not that you really ever did."
"Why did you insist I come to this party?" he asked instead of answering. "And why all the other parties?"
"Because I want to show off my son." She reached over and tugged his collar straight. "Humor me, Malcolm. Act like you actually like some of the young ladies."
"Even if I can't stand any of them?"
She clucked her tongue. "Being in the Patrol seems to have ruined you for high society. I should never have let your father send you to that military school."
"If I remember, at the time you were filming three vids and didn't have time for me. I was too old to stay in your dressing room."
His mother laughed, soft and low, more of a chuckle. She was still glamorous, still strikingly beautiful. She wore a gown of soft blue that shimmered around her. He couldn't help comparing her to Dace. His mother was tall and graceful, her hands always perfectly manicured. Her hair was copper colored, always smoothly brushed and well set. Dace was short, scruffy, and usually had grease under her nails. He couldn't think of anyone more completely opposite his mother in looks. That wasn't what attracted him to Dace. It was the look in her eyes when she smiled at him. It was her fierce loyalty to her friends. It was her boneheaded stubbornness and determination. He wondered what his mother would say when she met Dace. He smiled imagining Dace's reaction to his mother. He was sure he was wrong, but it still made him smile.
"So who is she?" his mother asked, breaking into his quiet thoughts.
"Who?"
"The woman who finally caught your eye. I've seen that smile before on men's faces. I know what it means."
"You'll meet her. Soon, I hope."
"Tell me about her," his mother invited.
He had no idea where to begin. He stared into his glass of juice, swirling the thick pink liquid.
"Where did you meet her? What's her name?"
A chattering group of people spilled onto the patio, infringing on their privacy. Tayvis' smile faded. He was tired of being polite, tired of pretending. He held out his glass to his mother.
She shook her head. "You aren't getting away that easily. Go mingle, pretend to enjoy the party. You might be surprised to find you are enjoying yourself." She pushed him, nudging him towards the group. Paper crackled in her handbag. "Oh," she said, opening the beaded bag, "I almost forgot. This came for you earlier. It seems to be some kind of code."
She handed him a folded paper. The seal on it had been slit. Tayvis recognized the handwriting. Lowell was contacting him. Probably wanting to know what he'd found out. He tucked the paper, unread, in his pocket. He would have time later. He hadn't made much progress on uncovering the treason plot. So far, Vance Shiropi had been scarce at the parties.
That was the real reason he let his mother talk him into attending. He made himself smile and join the group of revelers. He was here to find out who was behind the attempt on the Emperor's throne. He was there to find out who, if anyone, was pushing the outer systems into the Federation.
The people here, on the Inner Worlds, cradled in their luxury, acted as if nothing was wrong. But it was very wrong. The Empire was crumbling. The disease was here, at the center.
And he was going to find out what. Even if it meant attending parties and pretending to be a wealthy bachelor with nothing better to do with his time. He was officially discharged from the Patrol. No one would suspect he still worked for Lowell.
He promised himself that Lowell was going to live up to his end of the bargain. Or Tayvis would hunt him down and demand to know why he hadn't. Lowell had promised to let Dace go, to send her to Tayvis.
Tayvis would hold him to his promise. Even if it took the rest of his life.