“Anea Marlivana,” said Hendrik Galt, introducing Donal around the table. “And the gentleman who was pleased to invite you — William of Ceta, Prince and Chairman of the Board.”

“Greatly honored,” murmured Donal, inclining his bead toward them.

“…The Unit Commandant, here, my adjutant… Hugh Killien—”

Donal and the Commandant Freilander nodded to each other.

“…And ArDell Montor, of Newton.” The loose-Limbed young man slumping in his float, lifted a careless, half-drunken hand in a slight wave of acknowledgment. His eyes — so dark as to appear almost black under the light eyebrows that matched his rather heavy, blond hair, cleared for a disconcerting fraction of a second to stare sharply at Donal, then faded back to indifference. “ArDell,” said Galt, humorlessly, “set a new high score for the competitive exams on Newton. His field was social dynamics.”

“Indeed,” muttered the Newtonian, with something between a snort and a laugh. “Indeed, was. Was, indeed.” He lifted a heavy tumbler from the table before him and buried his nose in its light golden contents.

“ArDell—” said the gray-haired William, gently reproving. ArDell lifted his drink-pale face and stared at the older man, snorted again, on laughter, and lifted the tumbler again to his lips.

“Are you enlisted somewhere at the moment, Graeme?” asked the Freilander, turning to Donal.

“I’ve a tentative contract for the Friendlies,” said Donal. “I thought I’d pick between the Sects when I got there and had a chance to look over the opportunities for action.”

“Very Dorsai of you,” said William, smiling, from the far end of the table, next to Anea. “Always the urge to battle.”

“You over-compliment me, sir,” said Donal. “It merely happens that promotion comes more quickly on a battlefield than in a garrison, under ordinary conditions.

“You’re too modest,” said William.

“Yes, indeed,” put in Anea, suddenly. “Far too modest.”

William turned about to gaze quizzically at the girl.

“Now, Anea,” he said. “You mustn’t let your Exotic contempt for violence breed a wholly unjustified contempt for this fine young man. I’m sure both Hendrik and Hugh agree with him.”

“Oh, they would — of course,” said Anea, flashing a look at the other two men. “Of course, they would!”

“Well,” said William, laughing, “we must make allowances for a Select, of course. As for myself, I must admit to being male enough, and unreconstructed enough, to like the thought of action, myself. I… ah, here comes the food.”

Brimming soup plates were rising above the surface of the table in front of everybody but Donal.

“You’d better get your order in now,” said William. And, while Donal pressed the communicator key before him and attended to this necessary duty, the rest of them lifted their spoons and began their meal.

“…Donal’s father was a classmate of yours, was he, Hendrik?” inquired William, as the fish course was being served.

“Merely a close friend,” said the marshal, dryly.

“Ah,” said William, delicately lifting a portion of the white, delicate flesh on a fork. “I envy you Dorsai for things like that. Your professions allow you to keep friendship and emotional connections unrelated to your work. In the Commercial area” — he gestured with a slim, tanned hand — “a convention of general friendliness obscures the deeper feelings.”

“Maybe it’s what the man is to begin with,” answered the marshal. “Not all Dorsal are soldiers, Prince, and not all Cetans are entrepreneurs.”

“I recognize that,” said William. His eyes strayed to Donal. “What would you say, Donal? Are you a simple mercenary soldier, only, or do you find yourself complicated by other desires?”

The question was as blunt as it was obliquely put. Donal concluded that ingenuousness overlaid with a touch of venality was perhaps the most proper response.

“Naturally, I’d like to be famous,” he said — and laughed a trifle self-consciously, “and rich.”

He caught the hint of a darkening cloud on the brow of Galt. But he could not be concerned with that now. He had other fish to fry. There would, he hoped, be a chance to clear up the marshal’s contempt for him at some later time. For the present he must seem self-seeking enough to arouse William’s interest.

“Very interesting,” said William, pleasantly. “How do you plan to go about becoming these pleasant things?”

“I was hoping,” said Donal, “maybe to learn something of the worlds by being out among them — something I might be able to use to my own advantage, as well as others.”

“Good Lord, is that all?” said the Freilander, and (aughed in a way that invited the rest of the table to join in with him.

William, however, did not laugh — although Anea joined her own clear amusement to that of the commandant, and ArDell’s snorted chuckle.

“No need to be unkind, Hugh,” he said. “I like Donal’s attitude. I had the same sort of notion myself once — when I was younger.” He smiled in a kindly fashion on Donal. “You must come talk to me, too,” he said, “after you’ve had your chat with Hendrik. I like young men with ambition.”

ArDell snorted with laughter again. William turned to look sadly at him.

“You should try to eat, ArDell,” he said. “We’ll be making a phase shift in four hours or so; and if you don’t have something solid on your stomach—”

“My stomach?” said the young man, drunkenly. “And what if my stomach should reach universal dimensions, out of phase? What if / should reach universal dimensions; and be everywhere and never come back to point position again?” He grinned at Williams. “What a waste of good food.”

Anea had paled to a sickly color.

“If you’ll excuse me—” she murmured, rising hastily.

“I don’t blame you a bit!” said William sharply. “ArDell, that was in inexcusable bad taste. Hugh, help Anea to her stateroom.”

“I don’t want him!” flared Anea. “He’s just like all the rest of you—”

But the Freilander was already on his feet, looking almost like a recruiting poster in his trim uniform and coming around the table to take her arm. She jerked away from him, turned, and went unsteadily out of the lounge. Hugh following closely behind her.

They passed through the doorway into the corridor, but as they turned to move out of sight, Donal saw her turn to the tall soldier and lean into the protection of his arm, just before they disappeared.

William was continuing to speak calm and acid words of disapprobation to ArDell, who made no retort, but gazed drunkenly and steadily back at him out of his black, unmoving eyes. During the rest of the meal the talk turned to military affairs, in particular field strategy, in which triologue — ArDell pointedly excluded — Donal was able to win back some of the personal credit which his earlier remark about fame and riches had cost him — in the marshal’s eyes.

“…Remember,” William said, as they parted in the corridor outside the lounge, after the meal. “Come in and see me after you’ve finished with Hendrik, Donal. I’ll be glad to help you if I can.” And with a smile, and a nod, he turned away.

Donal and Galt went off down the narrow corridor .that forced them to walk one behind the other. Following the thick shoulders of the older man, Donal was surprised to hear him ask: “Well, what do you think of them?”

“Sir?” said Donal. Hesitating, he chose what he took to be the safest subject. “I’m a little surprised about the girl.”

“Anea?” said Gaft, stopping before a door marked with the number nineteen.

“I thought a Select of Kultis would be—” Donal stopped, honestly at a loss, “more… more in control of herself.”

“She’s very healthy, very normal, very intelligent — but those are only potentialities,” retorted the marshal, almost gruffly. “What did you expect?”

He threw open the door, ushered them both in, and closed the door firmly behind them. When he turned around, there was a harder, more formal note to his voice.