Timothy Zahn - Deadman Switch

Randon realized that, too. For a moment he just stood at the doorway, looking around as if committing the room and its occupants to memory. Then, straightening slightly, he led the way into the room.

And all two hundred people turned to look at us.

It was the sort of almost surrealistic scene you sometimes hear about but seldom actually see. The loose knots of people standing nearest to the door spotted us first, their conversations dropping off into silence and then tautly whispered comments as they realized who it was who had just arrived. The sudden quiet made those beyond them turn, many of them repeating the first groups' reactions; until, within the space of a dozen seconds, the wave of notice had rippled across the entire room.

Leaving a blanket of quiet tension behind it.

I'd expected it, of course. After Aikman's obvious anti-Watcher prejudices and HTI's more subtle version of the same antagonism, I hadn't expected open-armed greetings from anyone on Solitaire... which was perhaps why it took me several heartbeats more to realize that the cautious attention wasn't directed at me at all.

It was directed at Randon.

There was no doubt, once I finally picked up on the signs. For every subtle movement of a person's face or body there's an equally subtle reaction from those looking at him; and in this case all the reactions I could see were keyed to Randon's movements, not mine.

Vaguely, I wondered why Randon Kelsey-Ramos should make all these people nervous.

The awkward gap lasted no more than a few seconds before an elegantly dressed woman glided toward us from the side. "Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," she nodded, her voice rich with the overtones of a Portslavan native. "I am Governor Lyda Rybakov, the Patri's representative on Solitaire; I bid you welcome."

Randon nodded back. "Thank you, Governor Rybakov. May I present to you my aide, Mr. Gilead Raca Benedar."

Rybakov was definitely an experienced politician. Her nod to me was almost as polite as the one she'd given Randon. At least outwardly. "Welcome," she told me.

"Thank you," I murmured, nodding back.

Her eyes shifted back to Randon. "We're honored to have you here, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," she continued. "The Carillon Group is well known throughout the Patri and colonies, and we of Solitaire system are looking forward to working with you."

"I'm equally honored to be working with you," Randon said smoothly, throwing a glance around the room to include all the others in that statement. "If you're as diligent at commerce as you are in throwing receptions, Carillon will be hard pressed to keep up with all of you."

A loose, slightly strained chuckle swept the room. Rybakov smiled, the same faint strain evident there, too, and reached out to touch Randon's arm. "Come; let me introduce you to some of the other important people of our world. People much more important than I."

With Kutzko and me trailing a step behind, she led him farther into the room; and as if that was a signal, the buzz of conversation began again. But not quite the same buzz as had been there before. The aura of tension that had taken over at our entrance still lay like bedrock beneath it.

The first group Rybakov led us to consisted of five people—three men and two women—waiting in a loose semicircle and trying hard to look relaxed. "Mr. Randon Kelsey-Ramos, Mr. Gilead Benedar," the governor said, "may I present Danel and Debra Comarow; Dr. Sergei Landau; and Nady and Lize Arritt."

"Pleased to meet you," Randon said as they all exchanged nods. "Let me see: NorTrans of Starlit, I believe?"

A ripple of quiet surprise ran through them... as it did through me. I hadn't placed the names, but I'd certainly heard of NorTrans: one of the biggest corporations in the Patri and colonies, almost certainly the biggest with a license to operate in and out of Solitaire.

In other words, we'd found the leaders of the system's business community first crack out of the box. Glancing at Governor Rybakov, I saw it hadn't been mere chance.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos," Landau said, and I could see the comment went for all of them. "I've always thought that I, at least, was too deeply buried in the NorTrans structure for even those inside the company to recognize my name."

Randon smiled. "Hardly, sir," he said. "Besides, my father has made something of a hobby of knowing exactly who the major business interests and people are on Solitaire. Some of that was bound to leak down to me."

It was the wrong thing to say. I couldn't tell why, but that much was instantly clear. Almost in unison the tension among the five of them shot up, and the groups nearest us again paused in their own conversations to listen in. "Well, we're certainly honored by your father's interest in us," Comarow said, his voice controlled but with a predator's caution beneath it. "Though speaking for myself, I'm always a bit nervous when someone knows more about me than I do about him."

"Especially as regards his business dealings," his wife Debra put in, her easy laugh breaking some of the hidden tension. I sensed Comarow's approval, realized she'd picked up on whatever he was going for and was carrying on with it. "Danel always gets so paranoid when he has to start doing business with someone new.

"Not paranoid, really, Debra," he chided her gently. All an act; they were clearly two minds headed the same direction. Whatever that direction was. "Just cautious. As I'm sure you understand, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos."

"Perfectly," Randon nodded. "However, I really don't think you have anything to worry about. As I explained to HTI's managers this morning, the Carillon Group tries whenever possible to maintain continuity in the activities of acquired companies."

"So we'd heard," Arritt put in. I sensed Randon's quiet reaction: that the comment implied that Arritt, and possibly all of NorTrans, had a commline into HTI's top management. Not surprising, but worth noting regardless. "And you're right; continuity is what's on most of our minds."

"Most referring to just NorTrans, or to all of Solitaire?" Randon asked, glancing pointedly at a few of the eavesdroppers around us. A couple of them had the grace to blush.

"Oh, pretty much all of Solitaire," Comarow acknowledged without embarrassment. "You'll find that people who do business here are a fairly close-knit community, Mr. Kelsey-Ramos. We have our methods... and we're always a little nervous of newcomers."

"I'm sure you'll find that the Carillon Group business philosophy doesn't change just because we're now on Solitaire," Randon said.

If they found that reassuring, they didn't show it. If anything, in fact, it actually made them a shade more uncomfortable.

"Well, that's nice to know," Comarow said, the easy friendliness of his voice in sharp contrast to the sense beneath it. "I trust you'll find your visit profitable. I understand you'll be leaving for Collet tomorrow?"

"That's right," Randon nodded. "I'm looking forward to actually seeing one of those Rockhound 606's I've read so much about."

Comarow chuckled. "You won't believe it even then. Let me tell you about the first time I saw one of the monsters...."

The conversation turned to descriptions of Rockhound mining platforms, drifted to possibly apocryphal stories of life aboard them. It was heading toward social life on Solitaire proper when Governor Rybakov gracefully pulled us away and steered us across the room to another group.

This one composed of the officers of the Elegy-based conglomerate DragonHoard Metals... and just as interested as NorTrans in making sure Randon knew that Solitaire had its own way of doing business. As, with minor variations in tone, did the third group we talked to. And the fourth. And the fifth.

Eventually, even Randon couldn't pretend to ignore it any more. "From the way everyone's talking," he commented to Rybakov as they collected delicately sculpted appetizers from the serving table, "one might think Carillon just filed its corporation papers last week."