Page 78 of Dark Destiny: A New Thread in the Tapestry

"We can come later," Dimitri offered.

Petrov wanted to strangle him. With salvation so close, he wouldn't let anything or anyone keep him away from his vodka.

"Nonsense," Fenella said. "It gives us a chance to get to know each other before the place gets crowded. First round's on me, and I warn you, I collect payment in gossip. New faces are currency in the village."

"Vodka, please," Petrov said. "No ice, no fruit, nothing floating in it."

"A purist." She took down a bottle without looking. "You'll find the Kra-ell good drinking companions."

"Are they good people?" he asked.

"They're excellent drinkers. They keep to themselves and don't make trouble, but their sense of humor leaves a lot to be desired."

As they sat at the bar, Anita surveyed the furniture while Petrov looked over at the lone man sitting in the back with his laptop open.

"A movie at home would have been nicer," Anita said. "We have homes now, and we haven't had a chance to enjoy them yet."

"You were outvoted three to one," Dimitri said.

"Democracy is overrated." She pursed her lips. "It's a ship of fools."

Petrov frowned at her. "You've read Plato's The Republic?"

She shrugged. "I haven't, but I knew someone who used to say that all the time."

"Did you read it?" Mattie asked Dimitri.

"A long time ago."

"Now I feel like the only one lacking education," Mattie said. "What's it about?"

Thankfully, Fenella set a glass of vodka in front of Petrov before launching into the philosophical discussion. "That's because you are young, and schools don't teach the classics anymore. What Anita quoted is an allegory about a ship's crew being swayed by whoever is loudest or most charismatic. They rebel, imprison the only skilled navigator who can bring them safely home, and seize the helm, which leads them to drift aimlessly, squander their resources, and eventually crash into the rocks. The idea is that democracies are not run by the best people for the job but by the loudest voices."

Mattie nodded. "That's true, but it's still better than the alternatives. I'd rather live in a democracy than in any other form of government."

"As a former Soviet, I'll drink to that," Dimitri said. "What whiskey do you have here?"

Fenella grinned. "Any whiskey you can think of." She motioned at the display behind her. "Take your pick."

They had been given credit cards to use inside the village and to order things from outside it, and supposedly they had no limit, but Petrov didn't believe that. Why would the clan allow them to buy whatever they wanted? What if they bought cars and yachts?

"That one." Dimitri pointed at a light-colored bottle with a copper top.

"Good taste." Fenella reached for the bottle. "Ben Nevis 26-Year-Old 1998 Lady of the Glen." She poured him a glass, then turned to Mattie. "What about you?"

"Can I have a Whiskey Sour?" Mattie asked.

"Of course." Fenella turned to Anita. "And you?"

"A glass of wine. Whatever you recommend."

Once everyone had their drinks, Dimitri raised his glass. "To the new lab. It's not everything we dreamed of, but it works."

"You can say that again." Petrov drained the rest of the vodka and set the glass down with a thump. "I hate to say it, but our lab on the island was leagues above what we have here. It wasn't underground. It had windows, and there was room to move."

"And we were like rats under a magnifying glass," Dimitri added. "I'll take the dingy room they gave us in their underground and the freedom that comes with it over the proper lab we had on the island."

"Freedom." Petrov snorted. "We don't have freedom. We have the illusion of freedom."