"Uh?" said Ran.
"This is Ms. Hatton," Emrys-Dunne said through a grimace. "She's our General Services Officer. And I remind you, Susan, that this is a political matter."
"On the contrary, Clovis," Hatton replied, "the private watchmen are a GSO matter, just like the maintenance staff and all other aspects of personnel billeting. And it seems to me that this is a proper use for them."
"Wait a minute," Ran said. He was too tired to be sure of what he was hearing. "These are Nevasan citizens hired to guard embassy housing?"
"Not Nevasans," the blonde corrected. "We hire third-planet nationals for the job. And they guard our supply warehouses as well, of course."
She pursed her lips. "The important thing from your standpoint is that the guards wear uniforms with Terran Embassy shoulder patches," she went on. "But they also have Nevasan approval to carry lethal arms."
"You have no right to authorize personnel paid with embassy funds to guard private property!" Emrys-Dunne objected.
"Trident Starlines will pick up the tab, no problem," Ran said. "Just get me to a line that can access Bridge—ah, the Empress of Earth, I mean."
"Yes, come with me," Hatton directed as she turned and led the way down a short corridor to an office. She looked just as good going away as she did from the front. Ran was partial to blondes, not that it really mattered.
The office was a small one adapted for two people, presumably the GSO and a local assistant. Hatton used one line while Ran, at the opposite desk, clipped his transceiver to the other phone and patched through to the Empress's AI.
"Six be enough?" Hatton asked.
"Yes," said Ran. If six weren't plenty, then a battalion wouldn't be.
Hatton talked for a moment, her voice muted by the interference field of her phone, and looked up at Ran with satisfaction. "They'll be there in half an hour," she said.
"Time and a half to everyone who makes it," Ran said. "Double-time to any of them who're at the Empress in fifteen minutes."
"Accepted," said Bridge through the Third Officer's earpiece.
Hatton raised an eyebrow and spoke again into her phone. She switched off the line and said to Ran, "I don't know if any of them will make it, but they're certainly going to try. I hope it works."
"We all hope it works," Ran said. He stood and stretched. "Including everybody with good sense in the Nevasan government. Anyway, you and I did what we could to avoid trouble."
He looked down at Hatton. She was wearing something clingy and gauze-fine, but as opaque as a brick wall. The fabric was a soft blue that shimmered metallically when the light hit it from the right angle.
"I really appreciate your help," Ran said. "I know it's safer to sit on your hands than to help. That's anywhere, I mean, I'm not down on the foreign service."
Hatton sighed. "Spend four hours in a meeting with Emrys-Dunne and you would be down on the foreign service," she said. "Well, if there's nothing else I can do for you, Mr.—"
"Ran Colville," he said with a smile. "And if you can tell me—is there a hotel around here? I don't look forward to getting back to the ship tonight, and if I did I'd get rousted before my head hit the pillow. Also I could use a meal."
Hatton looked at him sharply. "Yes, there are hotels," she said. "And restaurants, though I don't know what'll be open with things—the way they are. I can take you past one on my way home, since I'm leaving now myself."
"Ah . . . ?" said Ran. "Could I offer you dinner too?"
Hatton sniffed. "And have it look as though Trident bribed me to provide guards? Not likely, sailor."
"Trident isn't picking up the tab," Ran said. The comment didn't bother him, but he injected a touch of acid in his voice to make the blond woman feel guilty. "I'm off duty, I'm in a strange city, and all hell's breaking loose. I was just hoping for the company of somebody who's acted like a friend."
Hatton grinned ruefully. "Sorry," she said, "it's been a long day. Sure, let's have a meal—but Dutch treat. And—"
Her face hardened.
"—I want it very clear: we're having dinner together. We're not going to bed."
Ran chuckled. "Milady, I don't doubt you've had a hell of a day, but believe me, it's not a patch on mine." He crooked his arm for her to take it. "There's some things that're just beyond human limits."
Which was perfectly true. Though in that one particular category, Ran Colville hadn't found his limits yet
* * *
The parking lot beneath the embassy building smelled of oil and damp concrete. The cars were an odd mix of Terran, Nevasan, and a scattering of models built on various other planets where embassy personnel had been stationed previously.