Ecolitan Prime (Ecolitan Matter) by L.E. Modesitt Jr. Page B

brought himself back to meet Sylvia’s eyes, he realized he had not even touched the food on the plate before him. Nor had Sylvia.
    He gestured.
    “Perhaps you’d like a bite or two before you begin…”
    Looking down, then lifting his fork, he raised his eyebrows, asking an unspoken question.
    “No…I didn’t drop anything in the food, suspicious man. Did you?”
    “No, suspicious lady.”
    Surprisingly, the fish was still warm, and the sweet-sour sauce and a spice he failed to recognize added pungency to the white meat’s delicate flavor. The side dish, some sort of vegetable, was soggy, bland, and smelled like overdone seaweed.
    It also tasted like seaweed, though Sylvia ate her portion with scarcely a shiver.
    He finished nearly all of what was on his plate before realizing she had done the same, and neither had said a word.
    “You know…Sylvia…I wonder if anyone will really believe what I’ve said after you walk out and tell them.”
    “Dear Envoy, it’s a relief to hear I will walk out.” Her smile was teasing.
    “Unlike Imperials,” he returned, “we don’t tease and obfuscate issues, which often leaves us at a great disadvantage.”
    “The Service already believes you.” Her face smoothed into a professional mask. “For various reasons, no one else wants to. In that sense, we’re allies. But we can’t lift a hand in any direct way to help you make your case.”
    “Why not?”
    “Since I don’t seem compelled to answer that, I won’t, although I will point out that no military bureaucracy has ever lost the opportunity to destroy rival intelligence sources.”
    “The Institute faces some of the same problems, and I would guess the same problem occurs in more cultures than not.” He cleared his throat. “What else can you, or will you, reveal?”
    “You probably won’t get much help from the Ministry of External Affairs…we feel that Commerce will try to take control.”
    “You paint a less than optimistic picture.”
    “Should I distort it, Lord Whaler? No one really likes Accord. Even the Service only supports the idea of a completed agreement because we like the alternatives even less.”
    Nathaniel shrugged. “What can I say?”
    “That you’re sorry for the underhanded tactics you use…” suggested Sylvia with a twinkle in her eye.
    “When I am not…when the tactics hurt no one, except the pride…?”
    “Touché!”
    “After all, Lady, my pride also was damaged.” Nathaniel managed to keep a straight face despite the outrageous statement.
    The Ecolitan looked down at his empty plate, wondering why he was regretting that the lunch was nearly over.
    “Why the frown?”
    “Oh…nothing. Things are never quite as they seem, but why that should surprise me I can’t quite say.”
    Sylvia pushed back her chair and stood, catching Nathaniel with the quickness of the movement, although he was standing next to her within instants.
    “You recover quickly,” she observed, still bantering.
    “One tries.”
    Inclining her head to the right, she gave him a quizzical look, her gray eyes clouding momentarily. “Like you, I find things are not quite what they seem. Nor are you.”
    “I am what I am.”
    She was already departing. As the portal irised, she turned back toward him.
    “Time is running against you, you know, particularly if you have to react to others.” She paused, then continued with a brief smile, “But I did enjoy the lunch.”
    With that, she was gone.
    Nathaniel shook his head as the portal closed behind her.
    Only a faint scent, similar to the orange blossoms of his father’s orchards, hung in the air to remind him that Sylvia had been there.

XVII
    N ATHANIEL STUDIED HIS reflection in the mirror. The shimmering tan of the semiformal tunic was not all that flattering, made him look even a bit beefy.
    “Can’t have everything,” he muttered as he tapped the plate to dim the quarters’ lights.
    Was it wise to go out the way he was?
    Probably