“Whoa! What are those things?”

    “Droids. Ank… I was told their scientists had developed them specifically for interacting with humans. They thought they wouldn’t seem threatening since they were small and humanoid in appearance.”

    “They’re creepy little bastards.”

    Sybil smiled with less effort that time. “My sentiments exactly.”

    “So… you met any of the aliens yet?” he asked conversationally once they’d been served.

    Sybil stiffened, flicking an assessing look at him. He either didn’t know her ‘history’ or he was damned good. “I was sent on the first mission to come here.”

    “Up close and personal, huh?”

    She felt her face heat. She still couldn’t decide whether he was just pretending he had no idea or if he really didn’t. The comment could have been innocent. She didn’t believe it, but then she’d ceased to really trust anybody. “You could say that.”

    “Where are you from… originally, I mean?”

    Strategic retreat? She responded a little absently, allowing him to lead her where he would while she divided her attention between her plate and surreptitious glances around the room until she finally located Anka once she had bolstered her nerves a little. Without surprise, she saw that the entire American group sat in a knot by themselves and ditto the Sumpturians. Without place cards, everyone had gravitated naturally toward their comfort zone, which meant their own kind.

    It was the shape of things to come, she feared, but she supposed the Sumpturians probably preferred it that way. They had no reason to like Earth people and every reason to dislike and distrust them. That might change-eventually-but it wasn’t likely to any time in the near future.

* * * *

    The turmoil did nothing to soothe the anger that had been slowly rising toward a boil from the moment the dark haired man had claimed Sybil and escorted her to a table. Despite his grim determination to ignore her presence, he hadn’t been able to resist searching for her among the Earth people. That had been his first mistake. He wasn’t prepared for the effect seeing her would have on him after so long. He’d thought that he was, but it had thrown him into complete disorder, instantly crumbling his resolve, demolishing the decision that he’d arrived at after a great deal of soul searching and consideration.

    He’d thought he’d succeeded in convincing himself that it was for the best for everyone concerned to leave well enough alone. It flickered through his mind the moment he spotted her, though, and felt the familiar yearning to be with her, that it wasn’t as if ignoring her would make the problem go away. He knew why she was here, what she’d been sent to do. He really had no choice but to pick up the game again.

    On some levels he was aware that his reasoning wasn’t nearly as sound as he would’ve liked to think. He’d considered the situation from the time he was informed that she was among the arrivals. He’d struggled with his feelings for her and realized the game had grown far too dangerous for him to play it any longer. He would make a mistake that he couldn’t afford, that none of them could afford.

    He didn’t think he’d made the decision not to approach her, however, so much as he’d been frozen in indecision, torn by equally opposing forces as to whether or not reason had anything to do with the urge to go to her. He hadn’t noticed the man until he’d slipped his arm through Sybil’s so familiarly and led her away.

    He supposed it was fortunate that shock had prevented him from doing anything unforgivably stupid at that moment. If he’d been able to follow the instant prompting of his instincts he was fairly certain he would’ve regretted it-not convinced on every level because it would have satisfied something dark and savage within him to have staked his prior claim with violence-but he was also sure the shockwaves from such an action would have brought about just the sort of thing he’d been working so hard to avoid.

    The shock that had held him while he watched the man walk away with what he’d come to think of as his had given him a few moments to consider, a window to remind himself that he couldn’t react on a purely personal level when so much was at stake. He’d hardly known what he was doing from that moment on, however. His mind had been so completely focused on what was going on between Sybil and the man that he’d had to rely entirely on force of habit and instincts to operate with anything approaching normalcy.

    He’d struggled to tear his mind from her and focus, but he couldn’t resist glancing toward them over and over and each time he did the anger churned a little hotter.

    “Sir?”

    Anka turned automatically toward the speaker and stared blindly at his adjutant, Minh, for several moments before he had any idea who’d spoken to him. A frown drew his brows down above the bridge of his nose as he struggled to figure out why his adjutant had addressed him at all. He could see from his expression that Minh was trying to prompt him about something he was supposed to do, but his search turned up nothing.

    “Will you announce the festival?”

    Anka’s mind leapt instantly to Sybil again. Despite that, the prompting pierced both his preoccupation and his rage, resurrecting some semblance of reason. He looked down at the table and realized he’d eaten without any memory of the process… and he couldn’t recall that he’d preceded the banquet with the welcome speech he’d so carefully prepared for their ‘guests’. “I haven’t done it already?” he asked blankly, feeling discomfort waft through him.

    “No, Sir,” Minh responded. “I thought you’d decided to wait until after everyone had eaten.”

    Anka blinked at him, feeling his face heat. “Yes. I didn’t see any point in holding everyone back with political posturing.”

    He surged to his feet abruptly. The moment he did, he caught the attention of everyone in the banquet hall and silence began to fall around him. For several unnerving moments as he stared out over the sea of faces, he searched his mind in vain for the speech he’d prepared and memorized. It refused to be jarred loose. Pasting a facsimile of a smile on his face, he discarded the effort. “My fellow Sumpturians-or perhaps I should say Venetians?-let us welcome our visitors and celebrate our new home with festival!”

    Everyone stared blankly at him for several moments after he sat back down. After exchanging puzzled looks, however, they began to evacuate their seats and to clear space in the center of the room for dancing.

    “You will be leading the first set, Sir?” Minh prompted him again.

    The question made Anka’s mind leap once more to Sybil. Fortunately, it also jarred lose a fragment of reason and he recalled abruptly that he’d not only intended to take part in festival, he’d told himself that it was time to take a new lover and make an effort to end the farce of a relationship that he’d fostered with Sybil. It would show her that he was not to be manipulated by her people’s machinations. It would show his people that his heart and mind were with them, as always.

    He felt vaguely nauseated at the public dismissal of his lover but angrily pushed it to the back of his mind. It had to be public to reassure his people. It had to be a statement that hers couldn’t ignore.

    “Of course,” he said, rising stiffly and resolutely refusing to look in her direction. The excitement of the others didn’t soothe him or bring the turmoil in his mind into any sort of order. It irritated him, made it more of a struggle to put on even a pretense of anticipation. It was fortunate that he’d taken part in so many festivals in his time that his body had memorized the steps and responded automatically. His mind wasn’t on the dance or the music or any of the attractive young females swirling around him. His mind was on Sybil.