WITH THE LIGHTNINGS(137)

There was no point in pretending she didn't know what this toad was talking about. She'd known it was going to be this as soon as she'd entered his office.

The deck shifted as the Rene Descartes changed tack so that the constant thrust didn't send them out of the system. Adele felt the fluid in her inner ears spin queasily, though "down" remained the same direction.

A month ago she would have wanted to be sick. Now her mind was too busy thinking about where to place the pellet in the body of the man across the desk, and that was worse.

"As I say," Elphinstone said, "you have friends. Admiral Ingreit will use all his influence to clear up any remaining disabilities. And I—"

He laughed unctuously, a polite sound that Adele couldn't help contrasting with Daniel Leary's honest bellows.

"—know some people myself, you see." Elphinstone tented his hands and went on, "As a formality, though, we'd like you to sign a report showing that you were operating here under Admiral Ingreit's direction. This won't detract any from the credit you're due, I assure you."

Adele leaned back in her seat. Daniel might actually think this was funny. "What about Lieutenant Leary?" she asked.

"Ah, yes, Lieutenant Leary," Elphinstone said. "Yes, that's an interesting situation. There've already been questions asked in high places about how he managed to survive when all his superiors were killed in the fighting."

"They were executed in the Grand Salon of the Elector's Palace," Adele said in the voice she'd used ever since she entered this room, this den. "They were each shot once in the head except for the man who claimed to be from the Navy Office. I believe he was actually a spy. He was shot twice because he was twisting on the floor."

Elphinstone blinked. Adele wasn't sure whether it was her words or their implications that had taken him aback. After a moment he said, "Yes, I see. Ah."

He cleared his throat and continued in a colder tone that was probably the one he found natural, "You see, mistress, Lieutenant Leary is a headstrong young man who would cause a great deal of trouble for himself and others if he were allowed to. That's why it's important that your account of events be put on record as soon as possible. Admiral Ingreit is very insistent on that point."

Adele stood. "I don't think the admiral would like my account," she said. "It would be accurate. Now that we've had our conversation, can you direct me to the person who can get me to the ground? I don't like the atmosphere on this ship."

"Sit down, Ms. Mundy," Elphinstone snapped. "I don't think you quite understand. There were exceptions to the Edict of Reconciliation and I'm very much afraid your name will turn out to be one of them unless you see reason. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Adele had started to reach for the door. She turned, thinking of what Hogg had said about intelligence agents. She smiled faintly.

Elphinstone got up and walked around the desk to face her. There was a wary look in his eyes, but his expression was as bland as a data console.

"Either you help people who want to be your friends," he said, "or you're executed as a traitor to the state. You really have no choice."

Adele opened the door—the hatch, she supposed she should call it on shipboard. Subordinates looked up from consoles, then quickly looked down again.

"Are you telling me that a citizen of Cinnabar has no choice, Mr. Elphinstone?" Adele said loudly enough to be heard far down the corridor. "Are you saying that a Mundy of Chatsworth has no choice?"

She slapped the startled man with her right hand. "This is my choice!" she said. Her fingers stung as though she'd laid them on a hot stove. Four discrete marks blazed red on Elphinstone's cheek. "I can be contacted at the library in the Elector's Palace—if you can find a person of breeding to act for you in a matter of honor!"

Adele strode through the outer office. No one spoke or tried to stop her. She turned right for no reason except that there were only two possibilities and she was too angry to attempt a rational choice.

She kept walking. She had no destination, but the adrenaline surging through her bloodstream had to be burned off somehow. Fight or flight . . .

"Mistress?" said a familiar voice. "Mistress Mundy?"

For the many minutes since she left Elphinstone's office, Adele's eyes had operated solely to keep her from walking into objects. She saw people and bulkheads with the same lack of distinction.

Her eyes and mind locked back into focus. She entered a large room with hatches along one wall—a docking bay like the one by which she'd arrived on the Rene Descartes. A number of sailors stood in groups, waiting for officers to return.