Page 53 of Skinwalker's Bane
Laughter, lots of it, caught her attention and drew her gaze to the tables at the far side of the gathering. Haydn, Adam and Gelin were the tallest in the group settling around the table. Their height drew her attention as much as the laughter did. Liya was already sitting. It looked as though Gelin had held her chair for her. Anar Bader was on her right. Evan was on Anar’s right. Anar was pouring a drink for Liya as he murmured something to her, which was making her smile. Evan was laughing up at Gelin and Haydn.
The whole table looked at ease and comfortable with each other. No wonder Adam had been sprawled in his chair as he had been. He had no agenda here this evening. All he had to do was enjoy himself.
The first course was served. The top table was served first. Devin was suddenly starving and tried not to wolf down her food the way she and Adam sometimes did when they had delayed eating for too long in favor of other activities.
The reminder made her cheeks heat. She stopped herself from turning around once more to look at Adam’s table. She was very aware that they were behind her and possibly completely unaware of her. The sensation didn’t leave her throughout the meal. It grew stronger, instead.
She grew restless. The need to get up and walk around, to work off some of the nervous energy, was strong. Until the Chairman stood and gave his speech of welcome to the diners, though, no one could leave the table. It would be an insult.
Devin waited out the meal as patiently as she could. Ironically, Dirks and Vinci sat on either side of her, apparently unable to claim a chair any closer to the Chairman. That also took the pressure off her to keep up an endless stream of polite chatter. She didn’t know either man very well and spent the meal learning more about them. It was a good strategy, for it got them both talking about themselves and once they were talking, they needed very little encouragement to keep speaking as their meals grew cold, while she could eat and nod at the same time.
Coffee was served. The coffee served at the top table was real, earth-grown stuff, without a hint of printed flatness about it. As Devin sipped her cup appreciatively, Nate Marey got to his feet, brushed at his big belly to rid it of crumbs and went over to the podium, as a light round of applause sounded in the room.
His speech held nothing new in it. Devin listened, half her mind elsewhere. She had been to three soirees in the past. She suspected that most of the Chairman’s speech had been used in other years and had been rehashed to make it fresh. He spoke of the power of tankball and the love for the game the citizens of theEnduranceheld, how it helped the economy, propped up the culture and provided a diversion no other activity on the ship could offer. All the positives about a sport that was already acknowledged as the most influential institution on the ship, despite not being a formal institute as other professions were. The hint about formally institutionalizing the Tankball Association, which would give the Association a seat at the Captain’s board table and direct influence over Bridge policy was not lost on Devin. There had been rumors for a number of years now that the Tankball Association was unhappy about its unofficial status. Apparently this was going to be the opening salvo on a new campaign to secure its status.
With the general election for the Captain’s chair coming up within a year, the timing was not coincidental.
The Tankball Association would clearly throw its voting weight behind whatever candidate could promise them institutional status.
Then the speech was over, with louder applause this time and Marey returned to his chair at the table, while the opening strains of a dance tune sounded on the temporary speakers set up around the dance floor.
The second half of the evening was underway.
Almost immediately, there was a surge of diners moving around, some to the dance floor and others heading for the tankball arena itself, where the washrooms were. There was a roped-off path leading directly to the side entrance of the building, also lined with bushes and potted shrubs, to try to disguise just how temporary the borders were.
Devin was not tempted to try to talk to the Chairman now that most people had left the table. Her mind in neutral, she sipped the last of her coffee and turned in her seat to watch the rest of the diners, as their inhibitions dropped and they partied in earnest.
Mina Rask leaned across Vinci. “You look as though you don’t want to be at the table, Devin,” she said silkily.
“Oh, I’m researching,” Devin assured her, truthfully.
“Researching?” Mina asked, puzzled.
Devin nodded toward the people beyond the table. “If you watch, you can learn a lot about people. About what they want, what they like, how life could be better with a small change here and there.”
Rask sat back with a frown. “How…extraordinary,” she said flatly.
“It’s rather commendable, to my mind,” came the Chairman’s rumbling voice from behind her.
Devin jumped and swiveled back around on her seat. The Chairman had walked around the table and had been standing behind her as she had spoken to Rask. “It’s just something I do,” Devin told him. “I always learn something interesting when I do.”
He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
Rask made some sound in her throat. Devin couldn’t tell if the woman was pleased or not about the Chairman asking her to dance. She took his hand and got to her feet. The dance currently running was one of the traditional ones, where the couple held hands and arms. The Chairman’s hand settled on her waist. He was careful to not let his fingers touch her bare skin at the edge of the scooped out back.
“Have you learned anything tonight, with your watching?” he asked her, as he spun her around.
Devin had to concentrate on the steps. Dancing did not come naturally to her, although she did enjoy it. It took her a minute to gather together a proper answer and not just toss off something that might back-fire. “I did learn that you’re angling for official institute status for the Tankball Association.”
“I was a bit heavy handed on that, wasn’t I?” he admitted, with a smile. “And what do you think about institution status for the Association, Devin? You’re intending to run for Captain. You must have an opinion.”
“I do, only you may not like it.”
He looked surprised and she smiled at him. “Did you want me to promise you your status if I become Captain?” she teased.
“Youaredirect, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” she assured him. “I have no intention of making such a promise, not based on your little speech tonight. I would have to know a lot more about the benefits to the ship andEndurancecitizens before I would consider it.”
