priority.â He put his dark glasses on.
Merral was still pondering the issues that âpriorityâ raised as they walked to the entrance. Suddenly, he looked up to see dozens of faces at the windows staring intently at him. He turned, expecting to see someone behind him. There was no one.
âVero, why is everyone looking at us?â
Veroâs mouth twitched as if he was trying to stifle his amusement. âBecause, Commander, one of us is a very famous person. And it isnât me.â
âYou meanââ
âWelcome, Commander!â came a shout from a window. Merral looked up to see people waving at him.
âVero,â Merral said, his voice bristling with agitation, âthis is appalling!â
âRelax!â Vero hissed with a firm intensity. âIt goes with the job.â
âBut what do I do?â
âI suggest, Commander DâAvanos, that as ever, you play the part. Just raise your right hand as a relaxed and informal acknowledgment.â
Merral hesitated.
âGo on!â
Merral lifted his right hand rather stiffly.
âNot bad. . . . No, not too high. You donât want to encourage them. Now give them a little smile, please.â
âItâs a farce,â Merral whispered between clenched teeth. âAn utter farce. Iâm encouraging the creation of some sort of celebrity culture. Itâs unethical.â
âPerhaps,â Vero murmured. âBut remember, these are scared people. They need all the reassurance you can give them. And not to give it definitely would be unethical.â
Upon entering the building, Merral found himself nodding and giving more waves of acknowledgment.
As they passed the ticketing booth, Vero nodded toward it. âRemember too, that from now on, you have priority here as well. If you want a seat on a flight and itâs full, you have the authority to throw someone off.â
âThrow them off?â
âNot, of course, literally. Uh, take their seat . . . have them take a later flight.â
âThat doesnât sound very polite.â
Vero took off his glasses, folded them into his shirt pocket, and then glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before giving Merral a severe look. âCommander,â he said in a low and impassioned voice, âI see our job as saving Farholme and, maybe, the Assembly. On that basis, courtesy and politeness are now, sadly, optional extras. So letâs go and meet Sergeant Enomoto.â
They found Lloyd Enomoto sitting alone in a small room off the main lounge, reading something on his diary with a look of determined intensity. He was indeed a big man. Even wearing a casual, loose-fitting, gray suit, you could sense his muscles. In fact, Merral decided that Lloyd didnât so much sit on the chair, as sit over it. His face was tanned and rugged, his eyes small and blue, and his eyebrows and close-cropped hair were so blond as to be almost white.
Lloyd rose, gave them a warm lazy smile, and saluted.
Merral stared up him, realizing that his eyes only came to Lloydâs chin. He decided to ignore the salute and shook hands instead.
âGood to see you, sir,â Lloyd said in a leisurely voice that was almost a drawl, and Merral noted the twang of the southern islands. âLast time I saw you, you were hanging on to that undercarriage and heading off over the lake. I was really pleased to hear you made it. Glad youâre well.â
âThanks, Sergeant. Remind me where you are from? Bailor?â
âNot quite, sir, Tralescantânext island west.â
Merral noticed that Lloyd had two bags, a backpack with shoulder straps and a small brown bag with an odd, elongated shape.
âPreparing for a trip, eh?â
âYup. My own stuff and . . .â Lloyd gestured to the brown bag. âWell, my . . . gear.â His voice had a note of awkwardness that caught Merralâs attention.
âGear? What sort of
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