The Tatja Grimm's World by Vinge Vernor

University would suicide.
    Tatja’s hand tightened around his. Her face came near to his. “Perhaps there is a way to stop him. With you and your dorfox perhaps—”
    “Please , Miss Grimm, not here!” Ked Maccioso leaned forward tensely, at the same time glancing around the tavern. Svir’s circle of attention expanded. He realized that now the Arbor was half full, the dance floor overflowing, and the jongleurs in fine form on their resonation platform. Tatja’s presence had made him completely unaware of the changes.
    She nodded to the barge captain. “I suppose you’re right, Ked.” She turned back to Svir. “When were you planning to return to the Continent?”
    Return? Then Svir remembered the lie he had implied. But he couldn’t reveal his fraud to her now.
    “I sail tomorrow for Bayfast.”
    “Would you like to come on the Tarulle Barge? It’s slower than hydrofoil, but we’ll get you there just the same.”
    “I certainly would.” The words came spontaneously, but he felt no desire to retract them. Imagine sailing off with a beautiful, famous girl—into adventure. His previous reality seemed pale indeed beside these prospects.
    “Why don’t you come out to the Barge with us tonight. We’ll show you around.” She looked straight into his eyes. The men with her watched carefully, too. They couldn’t talk here.
    “Okay.” Svir set Ancho on his shoulder. They stood and worked their way to the door. The music and party sounds faded as they descended the ancient stone stairs that led from Highrock to the wharves of the Krirsarque harbor.
    There were people waiting by a lander. Soon the silent crew was paddling them out to sea. Apparently the landing was a secret. It was well into the night sleep period and no other craft were moving. A breeze swept across the water, splashed luminescent algae into the boat. The crew shipped their oars and raised a sail.
    Half an hour passed. No one spoke. Ancho shivered quietly, fearful of the water. They left the glowing waters of the harbor behind. It was cloudy, so even the light of Seraph was denied them. Gradually Svir convinced himself there was a greater darkness on the water ahead of them. And then he was sure. The huge pile of the Tarulle Publishing Barge rose tier upon tier out of the ocean. Beside it floated the smaller forms of scout hydrofoils. All were without lights.
    They pulled over to the hulk, and a group of company sailors
hauled the little boat into a lighter bay. A section leader saluted Maccioso. She said, “XO’s compliments, sir, and no exterior activity noted.”
    Maccioso returned the salute. “Have him take us out past the shelf.”
    Svir was escorted up a zigzag of stairs, into the heart of the vessel. They entered a luxurious, brightly lit room. Just maintaining the algae pots must have cost several man-hours a day. The five seated themselves around a table, on which was fastened a detailed map of Bayfast, the capital of Crownesse.
    “This must all seem a bit melodramatic, Svir,” spoke Tatja, “but Tar Benesh has an efficient spy system extending from Crownesse on the Continent all the way to the Osterlai Archipelagate. The regent is ambitious without limit. He—”
    Ancho began nibbling at the map. As Svir pulled him back, the animal keened an almost inaudible whistle. For an instant everyone in the room felt stark terror. Then Svir patted the little animal, and the dorfox relaxed. The feeling of panic disappeared. Ancho turned his large eyes toward Svir as if to ask forgiveness.
    Tatja smiled shakily. “Tar Benesh is an extremely intelligent, capable individual. He is also perverse … and mad. Since he came to power in Crownesse, he has been a collector of Fantasie . We believe that, to enhance the value of his collection, he has sabotaged the others.”
    “We know for a fact that he has destroyed other collections,” Brailly Tounse interrupted.
    “Every five years Benesh holds the Festival of the Ostentatious Consumption.