House of Shards Read Free Page B

Benn.”
    “Ah. The racer.”
    “There will be a race tomorrow. Before the Duchess's coming-out ball.”
    “Perhaps I’ll enter the race.”
    “She's very good.”
    “Perhaps I’ll cheat.” Smiling, a little too whitely.
    “In that case,” said Kotani, “I’ll have to be very careful of my wager.”
    *
    “. . . then take the first right.”
    “Pardon me, but I think there's something on your carapace.”
    *
    Mr. Sun looked with satisfaction at the piles of burglar equipment that had been confiscated from Maijstral’s party. “That should serve to slow him down.”
    Kingston, his tall assistant, gave him a look. “You don’t think it will stop him entirely?”
    “I think he will have to steal something. After all, Geoff Fu George is here. Neither of them can afford to be shown up by the other.”
    “I suppose not.”
    “And there's another factor.” Sun gave his assistant a significant look. “The Shard is here.”
    “Virtues!”
    “We may hope the Virtues will prevail. And no swearing, Kingston.”
    “ Sorry.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps the rivalry will make them careless.”
    Sun's face split in a thin smile. “Yes. That's precisely what I’m counting on.”
    “Excuse me.”
    Kotani looked at the rotund figure, then blinked at the eye-scorching pattern of the man's jacket. “Yes? Mr.—”
    “Dolfuss. I’m a big fan of yours. I was wondering . . .” Holding out a notebook and pen.
    “Oh. Certainly.” Kotani took the objects and turned to give Dolfuss the benefit of his noble profile.
    “Do you suppose Nichole will be here?” Dolfuss asked. “I’m a particular fan of hers.”
    “I believe Nichole is touring with her new play.” Kotani scrawled his signature, then looked at Dolfuss over the pen. “Mr. Dolfuss, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. How came you here?”
    “I won a raffle.”
    “I thought it must have been something like that.”
    *
    “The first right, you say? Oh. I believe you have something on your carapace.”
    *
    The woodwinds chortled away, laughing in their lower registers. Roberta passed them on her way out of the lounge. Behind her, Kyoko Asperson was interviewing one of the waiters.
    “Your grace.”
    “Mr. Fu George.” Roberta’s lips turned up in an amused smile. “I have always expected to meet you sooner or later. I’m relieved the suspense is over at last.”
    Geoff Fu George offered her two fingers and delicately sniffed her ears. He received two fingers in return.
    A certain object of mutual interest assured them of a degree of intimacy before they had ever met.
    “I suppose—” he smiled “—it would be pointless to ask whether you have the Shard with you.”
    Her violet eyes sparkled. “I suppose it would,” she said.
    He bowed easily, conceding the point. Geoff Fu George was a compact, assured man of forty. His long blond hair (some of it, by now, implanted) was held with diamond pins and trailed down his back. He had been on top of the burglars' ratings for six years, since the Affaire of the Mirrorglass BellBox had put him solidly on top. His hairstyle was almost trademarked. He had once been asked to join the Diadem, and he had declined. The resulting sensation had assured him more celebrity than he would have received had he accepted.
    “Will you take my arm?” he asked. “I was about to head for the Casino.”
    “With pleasure.”
    “I noticed that the station network ran a history of the Eltdown Shard earlier this afternoon. I suppose that could be a coincidence.”
    “I daresay.” Smiling.
    Through his jacket, Roberta could feel the outline of his gun against her arm. The corridor to the Casino was covered in a deep carpet woven of Kharolton moth wings. The wallpaper was patterned on the Cerulean Corridor in the City of Seven Bright Rings. The molding was blanch-tree from Andover. Clearly Baron Silverside had spared no expense.
    “I understand the customs people are unusually strict here on station,” Roberta