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Jason said.
    “They
all do,” she said, unimpressed. “But it’s good work, nonetheless.” She put down
the goblet. “You did earn those silver moons, didn’t you?”
    Jason
scowled.
    “You
pretended that playing the game their way wasn’t important, but,” she said,
fingering the goblet once again, “you were listening and learning every minute,
weren’t you?”
    “Isn’t
that what you wanted?”
    “I
thought so. But I never knew I was getting results. Never mind. You know what
you know, and you didn’t hear it from me.”
    “I
still don’t know where you fit in,” Jason said. “You are as unlikely a
candidate to send on a mission like this as I can think of.”
    “I
earned my gold,” she snapped.
    “I
never doubted that,” he said. “I was referring to your singularity. The last thing
I knew, you were confined to Mercury Novus because you were a poor health risk.”
    “There’s
a risk, of course, but they don’t hold it against me any more. I haven’t been
grounded for almost twenty years.”
    “Twenty . . .”
Rubbing his hand across his eyes, he fought for self-control. She could have come after him. There was
nothing stopping her. They would have let her transfer twenty years ago . He wanted to ask her why she had not, but he was
so certain that he would hate her answer that all he said was, “I see.”
    “Yes,
in fact, for this mission, my singularity is in my favor.” Her expression was
serious and aloof, and it was killing him. “I cannot make any personal gain no
matter which way the decision goes, because elixir, like almost everything
else, doesn’t work for me. But they did send a backup just in case, a civilian
colleague. Praetor D’Omaha is up in Belden
Traveler waiting for us to settle in down here.”
    “How
can they be so certain the elixir doesn’t work for you?” Jason said. “Praetorians
aren’t entitled.”
    “Except
by lottery. It made me deathly ill. A second dose would probably be fatal. That’s
on my record right along with all my other achievements.”
    That
must have been a terrible blow to her, Jason decided, her last hope for beating
the effects of the singularity, gone. “Don’t they worry about your new world
heritage?”
    “Dovia?
Dovia can hardly be called a world any more,” Calla said. “No. They cared for
nothing except my . . . impartiality to elixir. I’m expected to carry
out my orders without fail, just like the Decemvirate.” She was grinning now,
as if war were a game to look forward to. Perhaps it was to her, Jason thought.
Perhaps this was the most exciting event in her career, and coming before she
was too old to participate had to bring her some satisfaction.
    “What
kind of defense do you plan for Mutare?” he asked, trying to be equally
dispassionate. “What kind of armaments did you bring?”
    “None,”
she said. “Secrecy is our best defense.”
    “None?
But I saw a new star in retrograde two nights ago. It went behind the moon and
never came out. Are you going to try to tell me that really was a new star?”
    Calla
shrugged and downed the last of her drink, then got to her feet with an almost
inaudible moan. “A shooting star, perhaps.”
    “No,”
he said. “A ship. A very large one.”
    “Why
would I send armaments to the moon?”
    “Not
to it. Behind it. And I don’t know why, but I suspect I will one day.”
    Calla
shook her head and walked over to the window to look at the staging area. Some
of the stevedores had arrived and were talking to the rangers. Calla’s officers
sat by themselves. “Secrecy,” she repeated. “Nothing goes off planet or arrives
without it going through my inspection team, and my guards will shuttle for us.
That includes rangers. As for your people.” She turned to look at him. “They’re
here for the duration.”
    “You
can’t do that. They’re rangers, not Praetorians.”
    “I
can’t. Decemvirate did. Check your orders.”
    “I
haven’t had time.”
    She
crossed