Rock of Ages Read Free Page A

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    Vandergilt noticed that a disobedient strand of hair had drooped out from under her helmet, “We maintain the political security of the Human Constellation against foreign and domestic threats, ma’am,” she said, stuffing hair into her helmet with one efficient black-gloved hand, “and investigate those deemed worthy of special interest to the Administration.”
    “Gracious,” Lady Huyghe blinked. She turned to her husband. “Do you suppose there might be anyone of that description at our table?”
    Vandergilt frowned. “If you won’t mind an observation, ma’am, I am surprised that the owners of a select art collection such as yourself and, ah, Mr. Huyghe, would have as your houseguest a person whose profession it is to steal.”
    “Ha!” Lord Huyghe said abruptly. Vandergilt gave a little start, as if a pistol had just gone off near her ear. A strand of blond hair fell in her eyes.
    “Maijstral’s father and I were at school together,” Huyghe said. “It’s natural to offer hospitality to the son of an old friend.”
    “And of course I wouldn’t steal from my host,” Maijstral said. “That would be rude.”
    “And the name’s Behrens, by the way,” Huyghe added. “Anthony Behrens. Huyghe’s just the title.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Behrens,” Vandergilt said. She tried, arid failed, to stuff the strand of hair back in her helmet. “I appreciate your reminding me that the title is, in the Constellation, only a courtesy.”
    Lady Huyghe frowned gently. “I believe,” she said, “that courtesy is the operative word.”
    Vandergilt flushed. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Lord and Lady Huyghe, and, watching her, Maijstral suspected she would be opening a file on them the second she returned to Beijing. Maijstral’s father had been a notorious Imperialist, and now it seemed likely that Gustav Maijstral’s school chum and his wife were about to suffer a case of dossier-by-association.
    “Flattered as I am by the attention,” Maijstral said, “I wonder how I merit it. How does being an Allowed Burglar—an occupation perfectly legal under Constellation law—somehow merit this, ah, special interest of nothing less than a full Colonel-General?”
    “We do not believe,” Vandergilt said, “that an inhuman sport like Allowed Burglary will be legal for long. And even Allowed Burglary permits me to arrest you if I catch you in the act or shortly thereafter.”
    Maijstral’s ears flattened. His green eyes glittered under his lazy eyelids. “I hope I shall be able to offer you and your people sufficient exercise,” he said.
    Przemysl beamed at him from across the table, and Maijstral sensed approval from Lord and Lady Huyghe. No doubt, he thought, they were anticipating Maijstral’s leading this officious officer in a merry chase from vault to hideout and back again.
    Maijstral knew he did not deserve the credit granted him by his fellow diners. He was damned if he was going to steal anything while a leather-clad fanatic like this was lurking about, just waiting to drag him off to Beijing and drop him in a lightless dungeon, no doubt one equipped with fetters, damp straw, rats, and other traditional paraphernalia…
    Vandergilt drew herself up. She knew a challenge when she heard one. “We have no intention, you see,” she declaimed, “of allowing a notorious character such as yourself to plunder the heritage of the Human Constellation for his own aggrandizement.” Her black-gloved hand rose, hesitated.
    “Would you like a pin, dear?” Lady Huyghe asked.
    “No. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Behrens?”
    She turned on her heel and stalked off. Lord Huyghe gave a sigh. “Thank the Virtues,” he said, “she was only here for the soup course.”
    *
    The police withdrew just as the meal got to its brandy-and-cigars stage, something that disappointed old Przemysl, who had only got halfway through his Monte Cristo before he had to leave.
    “I like the fellow, you