Read Online House of Shards by Walter Jon Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Walter Jon Williams
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“no.”
“So you were surprised at first, then?”
Maijstral considered this. “No,” he said, “I don’t believe I was.”
“Fu George is rated in first place by the Imperial Sporting Commission. You are rated seventh—”
“Sixth. Marquess Hottinn has been slipping since his incarceration.”
“Sixth.” Her remaining eye was bright. “Then my question is even more relevant. With the two of you here onstation, do you anticipate a duel between the two of you?”
Maijstral gave a brief laugh. “I am here only for the view, and the company.”
“Fu George said the same thing. In almost the same words.”
Maijstral smiled thinly. “I don’t believe I’m surprised at that, either.”
“So you concede any contest to Fu George?”
“I am not in Fu George’s class, Miss Asperson. A contest, to be any fun at all, must be between equals.” He looked over the heads of the crowd, saw the back of Fu George’s unmistakable blond mane, and next to him, full-face, Vanessa Runciter. She was laughing and gesturing with a cigaret holder. Her emerald earrings winked at him across the room. His ears went back.
“It’s been a mixed year for you, hasn’t it, Maijstral?”
The question drew him back to the interview. “How so?” he asked.
“Professionally, you’ve done well. Though the videos haven’t yet been released, the Sporting Commission has advanced your rating. Your book on card manipulation has been well reviewed. Yet you’ve had a tragedy in the family, and your personal life has suffered a certain well-publicized disappointment.”
She fell silent. Maijstral gazed at her with noncommittal green eyes. “Pardon me, Miss Asperson,” he said. “Was that a question?”
A grim smile settled into her lips. “If you like, I’ll ask a proper one. Nichole left you for a Lieutenant Navarre, and he is now her personal manager. Have you any comment on her subsequent career?”
“I wish Nichole every success,” said Maijstral. “She deserves it.”
“Have you seen her new play?”
“I have seen recordings. I think she's magnificent.”
“That's very generous of you. Yet here on Silverside, you have encountered another old flame. With Miss Runciter here in the company of Fu George, and Nichole's success on everyone's lips, aren’t there a few too many sad reminders present?”
“Nichole is a dear friend. And Miss Runciter is from a long time ago.”
As he spoke he heard, from across the room, a woman's laugh. He looked up, saw Vanessa looking at him. Their eyes met, and she lifted her glass to him. He nodded to her, and reached a mental resolution.
Damn Kuusinen’s eyes, he thought. And his other parts, too.
He'd do it.
*
“Lord Qlp is inactive now,” Lady Dosvidern said. “The Drawmii have five brains, you know, each with one eye and one ear. They spend a lot of time not moving, just talking to themselves. Crosstalk, we call it.”
“I believe I'd heard something of the sort. That their interior life was somewhat complex.”
“It makes being Lord Qlp’s companion a little easier. I should have dinnertime to myself, and most of the evening, before Lord Qlp grows restless again.”
“I should be honored, my lady, to take you in to dinner.”
She smiled, her tongue lolling. “Thank you, sir. It would be my pleasure.”
*
People talked without sound. The orchestra sawed away without any aural effect. Clear privacy screens, Maijstral reflected, are a wonderful device for creating inadvertent comedy.
“Gregor.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Is Roman there? I want you both in the White Room as soon as possible.”
“Something's up?”
“I’m going to do an unassisted crosstouch, and I want it recorded from two angles.” Maijstral held the telephone with both hands, one cupped in front of his mouth, so as to inhibit lipreading.
The delight was palpable in Gregor’s voice.' 'Unassisted? Right there in front of everybody? Terrific, boss. Ten points, for sure.”
“Hurry. I
“So you were surprised at first, then?”
Maijstral considered this. “No,” he said, “I don’t believe I was.”
“Fu George is rated in first place by the Imperial Sporting Commission. You are rated seventh—”
“Sixth. Marquess Hottinn has been slipping since his incarceration.”
“Sixth.” Her remaining eye was bright. “Then my question is even more relevant. With the two of you here onstation, do you anticipate a duel between the two of you?”
Maijstral gave a brief laugh. “I am here only for the view, and the company.”
“Fu George said the same thing. In almost the same words.”
Maijstral smiled thinly. “I don’t believe I’m surprised at that, either.”
“So you concede any contest to Fu George?”
“I am not in Fu George’s class, Miss Asperson. A contest, to be any fun at all, must be between equals.” He looked over the heads of the crowd, saw the back of Fu George’s unmistakable blond mane, and next to him, full-face, Vanessa Runciter. She was laughing and gesturing with a cigaret holder. Her emerald earrings winked at him across the room. His ears went back.
“It’s been a mixed year for you, hasn’t it, Maijstral?”
The question drew him back to the interview. “How so?” he asked.
“Professionally, you’ve done well. Though the videos haven’t yet been released, the Sporting Commission has advanced your rating. Your book on card manipulation has been well reviewed. Yet you’ve had a tragedy in the family, and your personal life has suffered a certain well-publicized disappointment.”
She fell silent. Maijstral gazed at her with noncommittal green eyes. “Pardon me, Miss Asperson,” he said. “Was that a question?”
A grim smile settled into her lips. “If you like, I’ll ask a proper one. Nichole left you for a Lieutenant Navarre, and he is now her personal manager. Have you any comment on her subsequent career?”
“I wish Nichole every success,” said Maijstral. “She deserves it.”
“Have you seen her new play?”
“I have seen recordings. I think she's magnificent.”
“That's very generous of you. Yet here on Silverside, you have encountered another old flame. With Miss Runciter here in the company of Fu George, and Nichole's success on everyone's lips, aren’t there a few too many sad reminders present?”
“Nichole is a dear friend. And Miss Runciter is from a long time ago.”
As he spoke he heard, from across the room, a woman's laugh. He looked up, saw Vanessa looking at him. Their eyes met, and she lifted her glass to him. He nodded to her, and reached a mental resolution.
Damn Kuusinen’s eyes, he thought. And his other parts, too.
He'd do it.
*
“Lord Qlp is inactive now,” Lady Dosvidern said. “The Drawmii have five brains, you know, each with one eye and one ear. They spend a lot of time not moving, just talking to themselves. Crosstalk, we call it.”
“I believe I'd heard something of the sort. That their interior life was somewhat complex.”
“It makes being Lord Qlp’s companion a little easier. I should have dinnertime to myself, and most of the evening, before Lord Qlp grows restless again.”
“I should be honored, my lady, to take you in to dinner.”
She smiled, her tongue lolling. “Thank you, sir. It would be my pleasure.”
*
People talked without sound. The orchestra sawed away without any aural effect. Clear privacy screens, Maijstral reflected, are a wonderful device for creating inadvertent comedy.
“Gregor.”
“Yes, boss?”
“Is Roman there? I want you both in the White Room as soon as possible.”
“Something's up?”
“I’m going to do an unassisted crosstouch, and I want it recorded from two angles.” Maijstral held the telephone with both hands, one cupped in front of his mouth, so as to inhibit lipreading.
The delight was palpable in Gregor’s voice.' 'Unassisted? Right there in front of everybody? Terrific, boss. Ten points, for sure.”
“Hurry. I
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