“Sorry.” Mondrian moved forward, and the frosted glass doors opened before them. “I’m just being nosy. You say you’ve never seen Godiva Lomberd like this before? Well, I’ve never seen Luther Brachis like it either. There’s two mysteries at once. But I promise you: not another question about Godiva.”

“There’s no need for any.” Tatty inclined her head to the left as they entered the foyer. “There she is. You can ask the real thing.”

They were exactly on time, but Luther Brachis and Godiva Lomberd must have arrived a few minutes early. Stepping out of a communication booth and heading back to the table area was a full-figured blond woman. She was in half-profile to Tatty and Esro Mondrian, and they could see that she had a dreamy and absent-minded smile on her face.

“The cat that ate the cream,” said Tatty. “Look at that walk. It shouldn’t be allowed. It’s totally natural, and Godiva never thinks twice about it — but ten billion women would kill to have it.”

Godiva Lomberd was dressed in a gown of palest yellow. It was high-necked, full-length, and full-sleeved. Not an inch of arm, legs, or shoulders was visible, but as she walked the material of the dress undulated with its own rhythm. It was impossible to ignore the exotic body within, the warm and pliant flesh that rippled beneath the decorous clothing.

Mondrian followed that movement, a puzzled look on his face. “You don’t know this, Princess, but a walk like that should be impossible in a quarter-g field. I can’t think how she does it. She moves just the same here as she did down on Earth. And she looks exactly the same, too.”

“She probably always will. She certainly hasn’t aged a day since I first met her. Remember what I told you, before I ever introduced you? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“You said that nobody could watch the Godiva Bird walk, without being aware that she was naked underneath her clothes. I laughed at you. But you were right.”

They had not called out to Godiva, but simply followed her back towards their table. It was located in a dim-lit area at the rear of the restaurant, a quiet quarter reserved for small, intimate parties who wanted discreet service and no public attention. None of the other tables was occupied. Luther Brachis sat alone, examining a menu. As they reached the table he stood up and greeted Tatty with an odd formality.

She had not seen him since they were all on Earth together, and she was astonished by the change in him. He was still in superb physical condition, but his face had lost the severe and brooding look. He was more cheerful and animated, he had lost five to ten kilos, and his eyes glowed with health and physical well-being.

He was studying Tatty just as seriously. “Congratulations, Princess Tatiana. It is an unusually strong person who can ever break the Paradox addiction.”

“You never break the addiction, Commander. You only stop taking the injections.”

For, let us hope, the rest of your life.” Brachis helped Tatty to her seat. “I am not sure, Princess Tatiana, that I ought to have dinner with you, even though Commander Mondrian particularly requested it. I understand that it is thanks to you that I have lost a wager. I will be handing over a surveillance system to the Commander.” He sat down, and looked across the table at Godiva. “What do you think, my dear? Should I blame the Princess for her success with Chan Dalton?”

Godiva smiled, slow and dreamy. “I could never be annoyed with the Princess, or with Commander Mondrian. They are the people who introduced me to you.”

She gazed lovingly across the table at Brachis. Her mouth was wide and full-lipped, in a pink-cheeked oval face that was slightly too plump, and the wide-set blue eyes wore their usual trusting and contented expression.

An analysis of Godiva’s individual features would suggest no exceptional beauty. Her chin was a fraction too long, her nose slightly bobbed and asymmetrical, her forehead a shade too high. But the whole was somehow much greater than the sum of the parts. The totality of Godiva, face and figure, was stunning. She arrested the eye, so that in a crowded room she inevitably became the center of attention.

Brachis turned to Mondrian. “You see my problem. If I express annoyance with Princess Tatiana, Godiva will interpret it as a lack of esteem for her. I can’t afford to have that.” He gestured to the other man to sit down opposite Tatty, but Mondrian remained on his feet.

“In a moment.” He turned to Tatty and Godiva. “I promised everyone that this evening would not be business, and now I am breaking my promise. Could you give us just a few minutes for private security talk? Then I give you my word that will be the last business discussion tonight.

Godiva merely smiled and said nothing. Tatty at once got to her feet. “Come on, Goddy. You don’t want to hear their boring business. You can show me around this place.

She sounded cheerful enough. Mondrian knew better. He was frowning when he sat down opposite Luther Brachis.

“You’re in the dog house, Commander,” said Brachis. “With both of them. It was supposed to be dinner tonight, and no work. I agreed only on that basis.”

“I know. This is new, it’s urgent, and we can handle it in two minutes if you’ll give me a straight reply to one question: Have you been getting a lot of trouble recently from Dougal MacDougal?”

“I have.” Luther Brachis’ expression became murderous. “Constant interference. I can’t do one thing now without him sticking his big nose in. And he’s the Stellar Ambassador, so I can’t tell him to go away. That man’s a total bonehead.”

“We’ve not reached the difficult part yet. If he’s like that now, how will he be when the Anabasis begins to tangle with the Morgan Construct?”

“Hysterical.”

“So what’s the answer?”

“No answer — unless you’ve got one.”

Mondrian nodded. “I do. We have to get him out of the way, so he can’t be always second-guessing us.”

Brachis regarded him skeptically. “Easy to say. But how do you do it? He’s certainly immune to hints. You’d have to kill him to get rid of him.”

“It might come to that — but not yet. I know a better way. Dougal MacDougal would stay out of the way if the Stellar Ambassadors told him to. You know how he grovels to them.

“He does. But dictating to the Stellar Ambassadors is harder than controlling MacDougal. They won’t get him out of our hair, just because we’d like them to.”

“They might.” Mondrian lowered his voice. “I’ve got clout now with the Pipe-Rillas. I can get them to suggest something to the Angels and the Tinkers: Our complete independence from MacDougal in operating the Anabasis.”

“I d give a lot to get rid of him. But what’s the other half? Pipe-Rillas don’t operate from charity, any more than you do. What do they want in return?’

“Something I can’t give them alone. That’s why we’re talking now. The Pipe-Rillas have made it very clear what they’re after. They want the secret plans for human expansion beyond the Stellar Group.”

“The what?” Brachis snorted in disgust. “Secret expansion plans? There’s no such thing — or if there is, no one bothered to tell me.”

“I know. And you know. But the Pipe-Rillas don’t believe that. They think we have plans to expand the Perimeter without telling them, and are keeping our schemes secret. You have to remember the way they think of humans. In their eyes we’re madmen — aggressive, rash, and dangerous.”

“And they’re not far off the truth, for some of us.” Brachis laughed. “Oh, we can be dangerous enough. But how do we give them secret expansion plans, when we don’t have any?”

“We make them up — you and me. Between us we have shared security responsibility from Sol to the Perimeter. We can produce something that’s consistent and plausible.”

“What if we can? Nobody believes there’s any such plans.”