Dav counted the drinks on the tray. There were three. His mother caught his eye and looked at him steadily. One for me, he thought in his head, one for the councilman, mother, father, and...

Father. Where was father?

Something else was wrong.

Narb was the highest-ranking guest. Normally he’d be offered any refreshment first. But Mother had passed right by the councilman in a huge error of manners. Instead, she pretended not to see Narb as he reached for the drinks, taking purposeful steps towards Dav.

Once she reached him she turned the tray just slightly, ensuring Dav had the bludrink with the fewest sparkles.

Dav obediently took the glass, sipping a measured amount and holding his mother’s gaze as he did so.

“Mother, where, is...”

“Come, sit down dear,” she said, widening her eyes and blinking twice.

That wasn’t just diplomacy. Dav had long ago learned that the little signal she’d just given with her eyes was her own, personal code for ‘do as I say, and don’t ask questions.’

Mother had already moved towards Narb, and finally offered him his drink. He took it with a smile while looking at her through narrowed eyes.

“Yes, Dav. Come, please sit down.” Narb said, still looking at Mother while he stood by the couches near the knee-high drink table. His voice had gotten soft and oily.

Dav looked at his mother. When she looked over at him and nodded with a small smile, he took a seat on the couch, placing the glass on the table in a seamless fluid motion as he’d been taught to do in etiquette class. He tried not to show his discomfort as the four guards quietly surrounded him, their right hands resting deceptively at ease on their pistols.

Narb gathered up the folds of his robe and sat on the couch opposite Dav. Dav thought about flipping up the plexiglass table that laid between him and Narb. But it would have afforded pitiful protection in any kind of fight involving blasters, and he nixed the idea.

“Why don’t you sit beside me, Layda,” Narb said. Mother sat down with a cushion between her and him. Her face wore the same fake smile she’d worn when a little boy at school years ago had pretended to destroy a small effigy figure of Dav’s Father with a crude toy thermal detonator. It had been Dav’s first introduction to the first law of politics: when you begin to make a difference, someone will hate you. All you can do is smile and take action later.

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Mother was angry. Angry and frightened. Dav could tell by the myriad of little signals she was sending through her body language and facial expressions. Father was gone, and for whatever reason she did not call security.

“Dav, young, Dav,” Narb said, pausing between each word as he looked into Dav’s eyes. “You did know your father and I were good friends when we were your age, didn’t you?”

“I knew you went to school together. That’s about it.”

Narb smiled. “Your father and I had a number of things...a number of common interests, shall we say. Slingball. Academic honors. But somehow, your father always, always managed to get what he wanted. Without even visibly trying, I might add.” He stood up suddenly, taking another sip of his drink as he stood and walked towards the wall.

“My dear, old, friend. Daak Eccles. I had to campaign and make a number of...compromises in order to get my position. Your father on the other hand, stepped virtually without effort into his place on the Council. Amazing, really. More than once, people have reminded me that if it weren’t for our friendship, I may not have gotten as far as I did. I might have been like my own father, running a small restaurant in the forty-third sector, always dreaming of better things.” Narb paused, lost in thought.

“Your . . . your achievements, Councilman Narb,” Dav said in the silence, “well, they’re brought up to us at school all the time. Much more than my father’s.”

“You’re very kind, Dav. You’re much like your mother in that respect. And . . . ” he stopped, looked at Dav with a smile and a gently waving finger. “And you’re quite good at discerning and saying what people wish to hear. You get that from your father. Yes...Well, Dav, you’re a smart lad. You’re likely wondering why I am here, drinking your father’s bludrink, strolling through old memories. Some pleasant, some pleasant, painful, some...” he looked at Dav’s mother again. “Some more so. Most of all, you’re wondering where your father is, correct? Of course. I see it in your face. Reading others- that was something your father taught me. Here, Dav. I was showing this to your mother when your driver dropped you off.”

Narb put a holo-projector on the table and touched the ‘on’ point at its base. A sizable projection of what looked like a ledger sheet appeared, made of green light and floating in the air above the table. Rows and rows of numbers appeared with various names beside them.

“I apologize for the difficulty with which you might find yourself reading this. This is a ledger of expenses for the sector. We Councilmen have to report and take responsibility for the actions of our staff and our expenditures of sector funds.

“Layda, Dav, I will be brief. Daak is in a great deal of potential trouble. You see, here,” Narb reached in and touched the green-light ledger as it floated in the air, his finger moving the squares and rectangles with numbers and names until there was one name written in bright red letters among all those others written in glowing green. It was Daak Eccles, Father’s name. There were a series of red numbers beside it, too.

“Those are his expenditures over the past few months. He has been most conservative up to this point; even his most dedicated political opponents couldn’t find a single hint of corruption to pin to him. Yet, it would seem that here, in the past six months, he’s been spending rather wildly without the usual constraints he’s known for. A luxury item here, a different apartment here...”

“You’re trying to frame him!” Dav said suddenly.

----

To Be Continued...