Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet Read Free Page B

presenter's platform?”
    “Why not?” he assented.
    Just then there was a small beeping sound, and the Steel Butterfly touched a tiny jewel on one of her bracelets.
    “Yes?” she said softly.
    “I regret to inform you that we have a scheduling problem,” said a masculine voice.
    “I'm occupied at the moment. You take care of it, Cupid.” She touched the jewel again, then turned back to Gold. “I apologize for the interruption.”
    “Cupid?” he repeated.
    “Our main computer.”
    “You've got a computer arranging liaisons?”
    “No, but it keeps track of them. I don't know who gave it its name, but it seems appropriate. We equipped it with a voice about ten years ago.”
    “Interesting. What else does it do?”
    “Other than the usual?” she replied. “Well, for one thing, it reports on any behavior that seems out of the ordinary.”
    “How can a machine determine aberrant behavior in a place like this?” asked Gold, honestly curious.
    “With eighty-seven years of memory to draw on, it's pretty good at differentiating,” answered the Steel Butterfly.
    “So you've turned your computer into a voyeur,” he remarked dryly. “It seems that even machines get corrupted by Vainmill.”
    “If that's what you'd like to believe,” she said. “Of course, if someone turns Cupid off, you won't be able to breathe and you'll float away like a feather on the wind, but you'll have saved it from having to observe obscene acts.”
    He was about to reply when her bracelet beeped again.
    “Yes, Cupid? What is it?”
    “I regret that I am unable to solve the scheduling conflict,” said the computer.
    She sighed. “All right. What's the problem?”
    “The Undersecretary of the Navy and her chosen companion had reserved the Mountaintop for two hours, commencing three minutes ago.”
    “Are the holographic projectors malfunctioning again?” asked the Steel Butterfly.
    “No. But the group currently occupying the room refuses to vacate the premises.”
    “Tell them they have to.”
    “I have done so.”
    She frowned. “Are you telling me that our prostitutes are willfully ignoring your directives?”
    “No. The room is occupied solely by eighteen executives from the Vainmill Syndicate, including the chairman and all the department heads, each of whom has the necessary clearance to override commands.”
    “How long have they been there?”
    “Forty-two minutes.”
    “Check with Gustave Plaga and see how much longer they'll be using the room.”
    “I have been forbidden to communicate with them again.”
    “What's going on there?” she demanded.
    “I have been forbidden to say.”
    “But it's in your memory banks?”
    “Yes,” answered Cupid.
    “I'll check them later,” she said. “In the meantime offer the Undersecretary our apologies, tell her there will be no charge for the weekend, and if the Demolition Team is available, see if she'd like them to visit her.”
    She pressed the jewel again.
    “Demolition Team?” asked Gold.
    “You don't want to know,” she replied.
    “I suppose not,” he agreed. “What's the Mountaintop?”
    “A room designed to resemble a ski lodge atop the tallest mountain on Mirzam X. The projectors give it a panoramic view of the surrounding mountain range.”
    “Interesting,” said Gold. “You've figured out what they're doing in there, haven't you?”
    “Selling the Comet out?” she said sarcastically.
    “That would be premature,” said Gold. “But they're certainly trying to decide whether the Comet is a sufficient bone to toss to me, or whether I'm going to want more.”
    “My guess is that they're probably thinking up ways to fight you,” she responded as she led him through the crowded foyer toward the entrance to the Mall.
    “I doubt it. They've been singularly ineffective for the past five years.”
    “Then perhaps they're looking for your fatal flaw,” she suggested. “Everybody has one, you know—even you.”
    “True,” he agreed, stepping out