The Praxis

Lord Pierre tilted an eyebrow at this thought, then his hands reached for the arms of his chair, as if he were about to rise and dismiss Martinez from both his office and his thoughts. But he seemed to think better of it and settled back into his seat.

“How are your lady sisters?” he asked. “I’ve seen them here and there, since they made their introductions here, but I haven’t had a chance to speak to them.”

“They’re well,” Martinez said. “Very active in the social life of the capital.”

“Have you made marriage plans for them?”

The question took Martinez aback. “Ah—no,” he said. “No plans.”I wouldn’t dare, he added silently.

“I have a cousin,” Lord Pierre said, “who I believe would be improved by marriage. His name is Pierre also, though we call him PJ.”

Martinez blinked. “Which of my sisters did you have in mind?”

Lord Pierre shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose, so long as she brings a competence with her. And I assume your lord father can find employment for PJ on Laredo…?”

Warning bells clanged loud and long in Martinez’s mind. “Perhaps you can tell me a little more about PJ,” he said.

Lord Pierre’s answer made much of Lord PJ’s su

By the time this was revealed, anger had begun to simmer dangerously in Martinez’s veins. Lord Pierre had a useless glit cousin who had dissipated his inheritance and/or embarrassed everyone with his behavior, and the Martinez family was to take him off the Ngenis’ hands—and begrateful, presumably, for the chance to marry upward. The reference to a “competence,” and to finding PJ employment off in the provinces, made it clear that the Martinez clan would be expected to support this character once he co

Martinez badly wanted to shove the offer back between Lord Pierre’s perfect white teeth, but instead he said, “Well, I’ll talk to my sisters, but I don’t think they’re contemplating matrimony at present.”

Lord Pierre offered a little frown. “Surely you don’t leave it up to them?”

The answer that came to Martinez was,If you were their brother, you would too. But what he said was, “It’s my father’s choice in any case. I’ll write to him with the particulars, if you like.”

“Oh—perhaps we should just contrive to introduce PJ into their circle. They entertain frequently, I suppose?”

“Among their set,” Martinez said.

If Lord Pierre thought he was going to drag this PJ person to one of his sisters’ parties, he was very much mistaken.No, he thought,you’re going to have to invite us here, which so far you have conspicuously failed to do.

Lord Pierre’s little frown deepened, but whatever answer he intended was interrupted by one of his secretaries.

“Lord Convocate,” the man said, “beg pardon for interrupting, but I just received a signal that the Convocation is commanded to meet this afternoon, in three hours’ time.”

Both Martinez and Lord Pierre unconsciously straightened in their chairs at the a

“Cancel the rest of my appointments,” Lord Pierre said. He turned to Martinez as he rose from his chair. “I beg your pardon, my lord…”

Martinez rose also. “I understand.”

There was only one reason to summon the Convocation at this time, and that was to a

Once outside the palace, Martinez turned uphill, toward the Commandery. He knew he would be needed there.

“Forty-one days,” Martinez told Cadet Sula. “Enough time for the news to reach the farthest corners of the empire, with twenty or so days left over to make preparations.” And forty-one, a prime number, was a significant number for the Shaa, who loved primes and multiples of primes. Martinez’s look darkened. “Forty-one days for me to find a better appointment than the one Enderby’s stuck me with.”

Amusement trickled through Sula. The woes of her superior officers rarely stirred her sympathy.

At least Martinezhad an appointment, even if it wasn’t one he particularly wanted. She, on the other hand, had no prospects at all once she delivered Blitsharts’s yacht to the yards on Zanshaa’s ring station. Her few acquaintances in the Fleet had been left behind onLos Angeles, and she knew no one on Zanshaa other than Martinez, whom she’d never met in person. She could be assigned anywhere, or nowhere, on the whim of the service.

Sula didn’t reply to Martinez. She was still over fifteen light-minutes from Zanshaa, and it was impossible to have anything resembling a regular conversation. Instead, Martinez’s transmissions were more in the nature of video letters, skipping from topic to topic at his whim. The replies she sent tended to be much shorter, as her days generated very little in the way of news or interest.

Martinez’s expression changed, turned a little sly. “If you have any idea of the nature of the air leak onMidnight Ru

Oh really? Sula thought. She found herself leaning forward in her couch, her mind already working on the possibilities.

“It seems that Blitsharts was bankrupt and heavily in debt,” Martinez said. “He was betting on races, apparently, and not just his own, and he wasn’t very lucky either way. His creditors were getting ready to file for the seizure ofMidnight Ru

Interesting, Sula thought. Blitsharts’s last long acceleration burnmight have been calculated to take him out of range of any rescue, and the erratic tumble that followedmight have been intended to make any docking impossible. His actions could certainly be interpreted as an attempt to hide a suicide attempt.

But if Blitshartshad killed himself, the case would be difficult to prove. The sabotage could have been done very subtly, a loose co

“Blitsharts’s friends are up in arms about it, of course,” Martinez went on. “The centerpiece of their argument is the claim that Blitsharts would never have deliberately done anything so cruel as to murder his dog.”

Sula’s answer to that was a wolfish smile. If Blitsharts was a sufficient egotist—and there was nothing to indicate that he wasn’t—he might have thought of Orange as merely an extension of himself. In which case he would have sacrificed Orange without a second thought.

Martinez paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Well,” he said, “maybe you can find something that will solve the mystery.”