What Distant Deeps by David Drake

tried to pull away. “You don’t resent this, do you, navy boy?”
    Platt grabbed a handful of the squealing girl’s hair and bent to kiss her.
    “Cazelet, grab him!” Daniel shouted as he broke into a run.
    Rene Cazelet wrapped his arms around Cory and dragged him back. Thank the gods he’d been smart enough to understand what Daniel understood but hadn’t adequately put in words. Cazelet touching Platt would have been just as bad as what Cory was lunging to do.
    It was possible though unlikely that Cazelet was a better shot than Cory, but in either case RCN officers had to resign their commission in order to fight a duel. A hundred puffed-up bullies like Chuckie Platt weren’t worth the career, let alone the life, of an RCN engine wiper.
    The girl scratched at Platt’s arm; his fist balled. Daniel knew he wouldn’t get there in time.
    Adele slapped Platt’s left cheek. The boy straightened and cried, “What?”
    “Sir,” said Adele, “you have insulted my friend, Mistress Maynor. You will apologize to her at once.”
    The girl pulled herself free; Platt had forgotten her. Two of the male tenants helped her get clear but stayed to watch; the girl ran sobbing toward the huts.
    “Who the bloody hell do you think you are?” said Platt, touching his cheek in amazement.
    Daniel paused. This wasn’t what he’d wanted to happen, but it had happened—and the situation was certainly under control now.
    Hofmann’s wife, gasping with emotion and the strain of running in a ridiculously tight dress, thrust herself between her son and Adele. “Chuckie, this is Lady Mundy!” she said. Her voice had a shrill edge that didn’t seem to belong with so fleshy a body. “What are you thinking of?”
    Platt flung his mother aside with a sweep of his arm. She gave a despairing cry as she fell. He’s more drunk than I realized, Daniel thought. He’s wobbling on his feet.
    Eyes locked on Adele’s, Platt repeated, “Who the hell—”
    Hogg and Woetjans had the boy from behind. The complaints of people they’d knocked down added to the general bedlam.
    “Think a swim’d sober him up, Six?” the bosun said, nodding toward the sea. She held Platt’s right arm straight up and was stepping on his foot to anchor it.
    “Or there’s the old cesspool from before we cut the sewer through from the third row houses,” Hogg suggested in a gruffly hopeful voice.
    “Dear gods, Leary,” Hofmann said. “Dear gods.”
    Daniel had forgotten the fellow. He said, “You can—”
    Hofmann bowed to Adele. “Lady Mundy,” he said, “I sincerely apologize for any offense my son may have given in his delirium. I was remiss, grossly remiss, in not keeping him at home when I knew how ill he was.”
    Adele’s face changed, though Daniel didn’t know how he would have described the difference. Adele looked human again; he supposed that would do.
    “Yes,” she said. “Home would be the best place for him. My colleagues—”
    Her eyes flicked toward Hogg and Woetjans.
    “—will help you put him in the car, if you don’t mind.”
    “Yes, of course!” Hofmann said. “And I will apologize personally to Mistress Maynor in the place and manner you wish, Your Ladyship.”
    “A moment if you please, Hofmann,” Daniel said. Woetjans thumped to attention; even Hogg’s expression showed that he understood that there weren’t going to be any arguments now. “May I borrow these for a moment?”
    Without waiting for Hofmann’s response—it was a blurted, “Yes, of course, anything!” when it came—Daniel lifted the pistol from the tray with his right hand and the one the servant had just finished reloading with his left. Holding each by the balance, butt forward, he turned toward Adele. She waited impassively.
    “Adele?” he said. “There are two Dravidian maws above us, the large pink birds. They’re an introduced species which I consider to be a nuisance. Would you please take care of it for me?”
    He held out a pistol.