Page 37 of Star Prince

“What kind of proof do you have?”

Randall called up a schedule on his wrist-gauntlet computer. “My ship’s docked by the old fortress in the hills. I’ll be reviewing the information I’vegathered over the next several weeks. Stop by for a beer before I leave for Washington.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.” In the meantime, Ian was going to find out who Randall’s associate was. That person was obviously behind the senator’s discovery of the inexcusably ignored fringe worlds—and Ian needed to know his or her intent.

Randall lifted his mug and tipped another swig of ale into his mouth. “Rotten stuff,” he said, slamming his mug down. “No wonder our beer’s taking the galaxy by storm.” He stood, grabbing his jacket, and gave Ian a friendly salute before heading with his men outside to his jeep.

Gredda glared after him. Quin blew a stream of air out his mouth, while Muffin gazed thoughtfully at his drink. Tee hiccupped softly.

“Excuse me,” she said, patting her chest.

Ian eyed Tee’s empty glass and groaned. He was dealing with a powerful U.S. senator who believed Earth was better off opposing a Federation that had maintained peace for eleven thousand years. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the man was spreading the word while playing tourist on a trip arranged by a mysterious partner. Convincing Randall that he was better off working with theVashrather than against them was going to be one hell of a job. Though at the moment, Ian thought wryly, his greatest challenge lay in escorting his pilot out of the bar and back to the ship before she was tempted to order another drink.

Chapter Eleven

Quin,Muffin, and Gredda expressed interest in staying longer, but Ian insisted that Tee’ah leave with him. The small flashlight he aimed at the mossy ground beneath their boots enclosed them in a soft glowing circle, but the thick, damp darkness of the forest pressed in all around them, as if attempting to snuff out their light.

Instinctively, Tee’ah moved closer. “I’m not drunk,” she informed him.

“I know.”

They continued to walk in awkward silence. “I always hiccup from drinking too fast,” she insisted. “Milk, fruit juice, or alcohol.”

The ends of his mouth quirked in an almost-smile. “I’ll remember that.”

Again, he became quiet. It was something else, then, that was bothering him. She gave him anuneasy glance. Tonight he had demonstrated a disturbing level of knowledge and insight into her people. A shiver skittered down her spine.

If Ian Stone was Ian Hamilton, theVashheir, as she had first feared, then she had to find that out before he found out about her. “I know you told me not to ask questions, but when the entire crew knows what is going on except me, it gets a bit frustrating. Surely I’ve proven my loyalty. I feel I have a right to know more about the man we’re following.”

“You have, and you do,” he replied. Then he lightly took her by the elbow and led her deeper into the forest. “This way,” he said softly.

Was he theVashheir? She found herself wondering. What other explanation could there be? There seemed to be too many coincidences for any other conclusion. And here was her opportunity to find out.

“What were you curious about?” he asked mildly.

She decided to be blunt. “How it is that you, an Earth-dweller, are so concerned about the state of theVashfederation?”

He tensed, or was she imagining it?

Tee’ah plunged ahead with her spontaneous interrogation. “You seem to have a good knowledge of galactic politics. That’s unusual for a black-market trader, is it not?”

“Not any more than a whiskey-swigging ex-cargopilot spouting off entire passages from the Treatise of Trade.”

All right, so she had stupidly revealed her knowledge of galactic politics. It didn’t mean she had to divulge anything else—her real name, her age, where she grew up, who her father was. She loved discussions about politics, and finding out more about Ian was important, but she mustn’t let herself become so absorbed that she gave away too much. Hastily, she explained, “My father made sure I received a good religious education.”

“Ah.” Ian was silent for a few moments before he spoke again. “This hunger for independence on Earth’s part bothers me because it’s so sudden.”

“Odd that your homeworld would just now balk atVashrule almost seven years after signing the Treatise of Trade,” she said.

“And even stranger coming after the selection of that Hamilton guy as the next crown prince,” Ian added. He seemed eager to continue the discussion, which was strange if he had something to hide. Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he wasn’t Ian Hamilton. Perhaps he was only a black market trader without anyone in his crew with whom he could discuss such ideas. That, Tee’ah could relate to. She had often felt the same—alone in the company of her peers—with her brothers’ wives, like a corked bottle.

“I cannot blame your Earth for feeling resentful,” she said. “After an entire history celebrating youruniqueness in the universe, you now find yourselves relegated to a somewhat trivial role in an already established civilization, yes?”

“Yes.” He cast her an admiring gaze. “I suspect that’s the essence of what bothers men like Randall. We’re still adjusting and getting used to the idea of being contacted by an extraterrestrial race—even though scientists claim we may all share common ancestry. But casting away all that’s been established by the Federation ...?” He took a breath. “It’s the wrong solution. And yet if theVashwant to keep the frontier loyal, they’ll have to do something about Barésh—and soon.”

Tee’ah shook her head. A black marketeer with a sense of social responsibility was a concept almost as far-fetched as the idea of the crown prince wandering about the frontier.

Still, if only moreVash Nadahshared Ian’s views, then perhaps the frontier and the Federation wouldn’t be teetering at the edge of divorce. Well, either way, she was no longer involved. She might enjoy discussing such problems, but she was no longer a noble who could do much about anything on such a grand scale. She was out for herself.

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