For a moment the tableau held. Trahn had that smoothskinned, exotic Eurasion look that showed few signs of age. He might have been thirty or he might have been sixty. With his rank and position, he had to be closer to the latter. That smoothness gave him a killer poker face; Tom couldn’t tell the man’s mood. The general might be annoyed at the ink-still-wet major who could have been considered to have questioned his authority, or he might not.