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ping the floor, he moved so as to place himself between
Kovinn and Maijstral. Another mystery, he thought re-
signedly, was clearly at hand. And here he'd planned to have luncheon
undisturbed.
Khamiss appropriated the station's central switchboard as a poor substitute
for Sun's console, but her hunt hadn't got very far. The hulk of the safe had
been found in a service elevator, neatly peeled, all its contents gone. Fu
George's room had been searched, but nothing had been found, and neither Fu
George nor his assistants had been seen.
What now? Khamiss, marshalling her watsons, was be-
ginning to appreciate what Sun had been going through the last few days. The
desk Tanquer's whiskers were becoming sadly disordered as a result of the
unexpected interruption in her routine, and her tail, following its
evolutionary im-
perative, kept wrapping itself around her neck and tightening.
Khamiss was beginning to be irritated by the constant sounds of strangulation.
"Don't you have a guest to take care of?" she asked.
234 | WALTER JON WILLIAMS
More choking noises. "No. I'm just here in case someone needs to send a
message offstation. What's that?"
"What's what?"
The Tanquer pointed to a light that had just started blinking.
"That. An incoming radio transmission from somewhere in the system. We're not
expecting any ships for three more days."
"Let's listen."
Khamiss turned on the audio. Incomprehensible bellowing filled the air.
"Yes, your grace. Maijstral was in public all this time."
"You mean all any of us had to do was look at the station
bulletin board and see that his performance was listed all
along?"
"I'm afraid so, your grace." "Hold him there. I'm on my way."
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"
My rover."
"Lady Janetha." Maijstral took her hand and sniffed her
ears, observing to his satisfaction that she wore the emerald
earrings he'd saved from Fu George the previous night. "I
hope you slept well."
"I found the ball and its aftermath so stimulating that I
collapsed straightaway into the land of dreams. Yourself?" "I
slept very well. In fact I haven't had breakfast yet."
"Poor rover, creating a sensation on an empty stomach." "I
thought to try Lebaron's. Would you join me?"
"Gladly." She took his arm. "Though breakfasting
à
deux in your rooms might prove an interesting alternative."
"Unfortunately the local watsons are due to sack my suite
at any moment. I'm afraid intimate meals might be fraught
with inconvenience."
HOUSE OF SHARDS | 235
Her ears flickered in disappointment. "Lebaron's, then."
"Perhaps we can arrange a dinner later. After the security
people have found someone else to harass." "I hope so, Maijstral." She
brightened. "I've just heard
the most interesting news about Pearl Woman. Perhaps you
had something to do with it."
Vanessa Runciter finished her polite applause and reached for a cigaret.
Dolfuss looked at her. "I thought I'd take a look at the Casino," he said. "I
haven't been there yet.
Would you like to join me?"
Vanessa smiled smoothly. "Of course, Mr. Dolfuss. I
was heading there myself."
Alarms clanged vaguely in Dolfuss's nerves. Why was
Vanessa Runciter being so friendly?
"Great!" he said. "I'm happy as anything."
She lit the Silvertip in its ebony holder. "You do play tiles, don't you?" It
might be fun, she realized, to pauperize this geek in retaliation for having
to sit next to him through
Maijstral's performance.
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Dolfuss frowned. "Tiles? I'm afraid not."
"Or pasters?"
Dolfuss shrugged hopelessly. "Sorry. I play cheeseup from time to time, but I
always lose."
Vanessa brightened. She put her arm through Dolfuss's.
"Cheeseup, then. We'll have a jolly time."
"I'm not certain I can afford the stakes."
Vanessa looked at him in mock-indignation. "Mr. Dol-
fuss, I'm surprised! I thought everyone could afford a nova a point."
"A nova a point?" Dolfuss strove to master his shock.
"Well, I suppose ..."
"Settled then," Vanessa said, and smiled.
236 | WALTER JON WILLIAMS
Ah, Dolfuss thought, and cancelled his internal alarm.
She just wanted to fleece him. Reason enough to be friendly.
Bellowing still echoed from the receiver. The Tanquer's
fingers danced over her keyboard. "Wait a minute. That signal's coming from
the
Viscount Cheng."
"I thought she was waiting in the dock."
"She is. I think."
"Then why doesn't whoever's making that awful noise use the telephone?
Cheng's got communication through the station coupling."
"Oh, no." The Tanquer's tail began to make self-throt-
tling gestures again.
"Stop strangling yourself," Khamiss said edgily, her patience frayed entirely,
"and tell me what just happened."
The voice was a burbling whisper.
"Viscount Cheng.
It isn't in dock."
Khamiss looked at the Tanquer in shock. "You mean someone's just stolen a
passenger liner?"
The Tanquer's eyes were bulging with self-inflicted oxygen deprivation. Still
she managed to give an affirmative blink.
Khamiss looked at the Tanquer, then at the board. There had to be a proper
response to this.
If only she knew what it was.
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Paavo Kuusinen was poised and ready when Kovinn finished her phone call and
dropped her privacy screen. She goggled when she saw that Maijstral was gone.
Kuusinen ap-
proached.
"May I be of service, Kovinn?"
"Yes. Have you seen Drake Maijstral?"
"I believe he and the Marchioness Kotani were walking in that direction.
Please allow me to accompany you."
HOUSE OF SHARDS | 237
"Thank you, Mr. Kuusinen. If I lost Maijstral again, I
don't know what kind of trouble might result."
"Perhaps," lightly, "if I knew the nature of the crisis, I
might be able to assist."
"I'm afraid I don't really know, except that it has to do with Lord Qlp. It
burst in on her grace this morning, and -
there's Maijstral. Sir! Sir!"
Kuusinen watched as Kovinn broke into a run. The mys-
tery, it seemed, was deepening.
Cheng's captain was a short Khosali female who was clearly annoyed at being
roused out of bed. Khamiss suspected, from the way she kept looking over her
shoulder, that she was not alone. Khamiss also couldn't help but notice that
the captain's annoyance increased a chance resemblance to the crusty-but-loyal
Cap'n Bob, one of the fixtures on the
Ronnie Romper program.
"Well, no," the captain said as she fingered the collar of her dressing gown.
"There was no one aboard
Cheng except the maintenance robots. We all have four days' station leave."
"So anyone could have got onto the ship."
"The airlock was sealed, and only the ship's officers had the codes, but I
suppose the lock could have been bro-
ken. ..." The captain's ears suddenly pricked forward in alarm. "What's
happened aboard my
Cheng?"
"It appears someone's stolen your ship."
"The whole thing?"
Given time and thought, Khamiss might have found the captain's response
curious and asked if the captain were more accustomed to having her ship
stolen one piece at a time. Under the pressure of the emergency, however,
Khamiss could only reply in the affirmative.
"The whole thing, ma'am. Sorry."
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238 1 WALTER JON WILLIAMS
The captain sat down suddenly. The phone camera, a jolt, tracked her collapse.
The resemblance to Cap'n Bob became even more pronounced.
"I don't suppose," she said, "there's any way this could be kept quiet."
"Advert. What news?" Pearl Woman's holographic face broadcast against the
opalescence of one of the White Room's privacy screens, showed taut signs of
strain. Her fingers twined in her leonine hair, drawing it down over her ear.
The duelling scar gave her anxiety a sinister cast.
Advert, trying to remember not to giggle with joy, nodded and gave what she
hoped was an encouraging smile. "I
know who's got the pearl," she said.
Pearl Woman's eyes gleamed with a tigerish light. "Good.
Give me the name."
"The name was given me in confidence. I'm sorry, but in return for the
information I had to promise not to tell." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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