Eros at Zenith: Book 2 of Tales of the Velvet Comet

by Mike Resnick

  “Most murderers don't announce their plans and motivations on a public address system,” replied Crane caustically. “That's why we have detectives, and that's why a tenuous chain of reasoning is better than nothing.” He paused. “The first thing we'd better do is cancel my order to release the body after the post mortem.”

  IT HAS ALREADY BEEN CANCELLED.

  Crane looked his surprise. “Who did it?” he demanded.

  THE BLACK PEARL.

  “You're sure?”

  IT WAS DONE AT 1317 HOURS, SHIP'S TIME, WHILE YOU WERE HAVING LUNCH.

  “Patch me in to her right now!” demanded Crane.

  The screen went blank, to be replaced an instant later by a holographic representation of a section of a magnificent bathroom. The floor was covered with a black fur rug, the walls and ceiling were mirrored, reflecting the tub and its occupant endlessly, and three fur-covered stairs led to a raised obsidian tub with pewter fixtures. Inside the tub, with only her face and breasts above the water, lay the Black Pearl.

  “Mr. Crane,” she said with a smile, looking at a screen that was just out of camera range. “What can I do for you?”

  “You countermanded one of my orders,” he said heatedly. “Why?”

  “You mean about the corpse?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Yes, I mean about the corpse! I told the computer to cancel my order, and found out you had already done it!”

  “Then what's the problem? I saved you the trouble.”

  “The problem,” he said, trying to control his temper, “is that you did it without my permission.”

  “I don't need your permission to act in the best interests of the Comet,” she replied calmly. “If word gets out that one of our patrons has been murdered and that the killer is still at large, business will drop off drastically. I can't permit that.”

  “What do you mean—you can't permit that? I'm in charge here!”

  “You're in charge of the investigation, Mr. Crane,” said the Black Pearl. “I'm in charge of the Velvet Comet. There's a difference.”

  “The hell there is!” he snapped. “And have the decency to cover yourself up when I'm talking to you!”

  “I didn't initiate this conversation, Mr. Crane. It's hardly my fault that you chose to interrupt me while I was bathing.” She looked mildly amused. “You can always look elsewhere, you know.”

  “Do you plan to do it again?” he demanded.

  “Do what—bathe, or countermand a dangerous order?”

  “You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, suddenly serious. “And any time I feel you have issued an order that is detrimental to the welfare of the Comet. I will not hesitate to overrule it.” She paused. “Now that that's over, suppose you tell me why you decided not to send the body back to Deluros.”

  He glared at her and made no response.

  “Brace yourself, Mr. Crane,” she said at last. “I'm about to stand up.”

  “What?”

  “I'm through with my bath. I have to get out of the tub.”

  “Right now?”

  “I can't run a brothel from a bathtub,” she answered him. “I'm on duty again in half an hour. Had you anything further to say?”

  “I need some information,” replied Crane, as the Black Pearl got to her feet and he found himself unable look away from her.

  “Certainly,” she replied, walking unselfconsciously down the three stairs to the floor of the room and taking a large towel from its heated rack.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I need the name of the girl who spent the night with Infante.”

  “That would be Venus. Would you like to interview her?” she asked, holding an end of the towel in each hand and drying her back vigorously. “Mr. Crane?”

  “You're distracting me,” he said irritably. “Do you have to do that right now?”

  “You really must learn to be less ashamed of the human body,” she remarked, wrapping the towel around her with a smile. “All right. Is this less disturbing to you?”

  “Somewhat,” he said. “You say her name is Venus?”

  “That's correct.”

  “Did she sleep with him on any of his other visits?”

  “Not to my knowledge. I can check it out if you'd like.” The Black Pearl put the question to the computer, read the answer, and then turned to face him again. “No. This was her only liaison with Infante.”

  “Can you get me a list of all the other women he slept with?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “But it's a bit awkward to keep splitting the screen. After we're through speaking, I'll simply instruct the computer to allow you to access the information.”

  “Fine.” He paused. “As for this Venus, I want to speak to her.”

  “She's with a patron right now. She should be free in about three hours.”

  “It takes that long?”

  “This isn't some sleazy little planetside whorehouse, Mr. Crane,” she said condescendingly. “You'd be surprised at how long it can take.”

  “Then set up a meeting with her for four hours from now.”

  “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “if you require a companion for tonight, why not request Venus? It would be a way of killing two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

  “I'll choose my own.”

  “Perhaps it's for the best,” said the Black Pearl, staring at him and appraising what she saw. “I have a feeling that she might be just a little too imaginative for you.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

  “Nothing at all,” she replied easily. “I'll tell her to report to your suite in four hours—or would you rather speak to her via the computer?”

  “Either way. It makes no difference.”

  “I'll see which is more convenient for her.” She paused. “Are you ready to tell me why you decided to cancel your order about the body?”

  “I think the murder was a warning.”

  “Oh? To whom?”

  “I don't know—some member of the crew, certainly. Since I'm working on minimal information and I'm pretty sure that the killer's operating within a strict time frame, I think the best procedure is to keep a lid on it and see if we can force the killer to act again.”

  “By killing someone else?” she suggested sharply. “I thought you were a damage control expert.”

  He shook his head. “He's not going to kill anyone else.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because if it didn't matter who he killed, he wouldn't have waited for Infante.” He paused. “I'm hoping that his next move will be to approach the crew member personally.”

  She began walking into her elegantly-appointed bedroom as the camera followed her. “How long do you think it will take?”

  “Two or three days, no more,” replied Crane. “He knows we've found the body. When another 48 hours pass and no announcement has been made, he'll figure out that we're not about to broadcast it, even to the crew.”

  “I hope you're right,” she said.

  “I usually am.”

  “Such modesty,” she said with more than a touch of sarcasm.

  “Well, one of us ought to have some. Your towel is coming apart.”

  She looked down and readjusted it.

  “How thoughtful of you to instruct me on how I must appear in my own apartment, Mr. Crane.”

  “Well, your holograph is in my suite.”

  “I didn't initiate the connection.”

  “I needed information,” he said. “I can't help it if I'm irritating you.”

  “You're not irritating me, Mr. Crane,” said the Black Pearl.

  “You're sure?”

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “I'm used to dealing with prima donnas and their over-inflated egos.”

  “Well, this prima donna's got to get back to work,” he said angrily, breaking the connection. He got to his feet, walked to the bar, considered making hims
elf a third iced coffee, decided not to, and returned to his chair.

  “Computer, how are you coming with those 22 incomplete files?”

  I AM STILL WAITING TO ACCESS THE GOVERNMENT COMPUTERS.

  “While we've got some free time, show me some of the prostitutes who are still available for tonight.”

  He spent the next twenty minutes studying holographs of some of the most sensuous and beautiful women he had ever seen. Where the prostitute had some special interest or field of expertise, it was so noted.

  THAT ENDS THE LIST OF THOSE WOMEN WHO WILL BE AVAILABLE PRIOR TO 2400 HOURS. ARE THERE ANY YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE AGAIN?

  “Not right now.”

  IF YOU HAVE MADE A DECISION, I CAN REGISTER A LIAISON HERE AND NOW, AND THUS ASSURE YOU OF YOUR COMPANION'S AVAILABILITY.

  “I haven't made up my mind yet.”

  I SHOULD POINT OUT THAT WE HAVE AN EQUALLY LARGE SELECTION OF MEN, AND THAT ANY CONCEIVABLE NUMBER AND GROUPING OF PARTNERS CAN BE ARRANGED.

  “I'll bear that in mind,” he said sardonically.

  THE BLACK PEARL HAS JUST INSTRUCTED ME TO ALLOW YOU ACCESS TO HER FILE OF LIAISONS.

  “I'm surprised she remembered,” said Crane, getting to his feet.

  WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO BRING THEM UP ON THE SCREEN NOW?

  “Later,” said Crane. “I think I'll go out for a breath of air.”

  THE AIR IS THE SAME QUALITY THROUGHOUT THE SHIP.

  “That was a figure of speech. I feel restless. A little walk around the public rooms will do me good.”

  I WAS RIGHT.

  “About what?”

  YOU ARE SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO THE BLACK PEARL.

  “The hell I am! I thought we'd been through all that before.”

  I CAN GIVE YOU A READOUT OF YOUR CURRENT PHYSICAL CONDITION AND COMPARE IT TO YOUR READING WHEN YOU CAME ABOARD.

  “I'm just feeling a little tense,” said Crane defensively.

  YES. I KNOW.

  “You go to hell!” snapped Crane, stalking out of the suite and heading off to the reception foyer.

  Chapter 4

  The Dragon Lady looked up as the Black Pearl, swathed in silver beads and silver boots and very little else, entered the hospital's waiting room at 0430 hours the next morning.

  “Jesus!” muttered the madam irritably. “If it's not one damned thing, it's another. Where are they?”

  “In Intensive Care.”

  “Overdose?”

  The Dragon Lady nodded.

  “Let's take a look,” said the Black Pearl.

  They walked to the Intensive Care Room, where a lovely young brunette was stretched out on one of the beds, a number of monitoring devices attached to her body. A middle-aged man, attached to an identical machine, lay on the next bed.

  “How serious is it?” asked the Black Pearl.

  “The doctors feel that they got to him soon enough.”

  “What about Weeping Willow?” asked the madam, indicating the unconscious girl.

  “She's a little worse off,” replied the Dragon Lady. “She was already comatose when we got there.”

  “Will she live?”

  “Oh, I'm quite certain that she will.”

  “When she recovers, tell her she's fired,” said the Black Pearl.

  “Are you quite sure?” asked the Dragon Lady. “There are extenuating circumstances in this case.”

  “Because he brought the drugs? Show me a tape that proves he held a gun to her head and forced her to take them, and she can stay. Otherwise, she's out. She knows the rules, and considering what we're paying and who we're servicing, one offense is all anyone gets.”

  The Dragon Lady shrugged. “What about him?”

  “Have the hospital bill his account, keep him here for three days, and put him on the next shuttle to Deluros. And while Security is your concern and not mine, I'd sure as hell fire whoever was working the airlock when he smuggled that stuff aboard.”

  “He brought it up more than a year ago,” replied the Dragon Lady. “I checked the readout of his luggage and his person, and it was negative, so on a hunch I went to the hydroponics garden.”

  “Alphanella?”

  The Security Chief nodded. “He must have brought up a packet of alphanella seeds when he was here last year. I found a pair of plants that seemed to be about 15 months old.”

  “Well, that's a new angle.”

  “I still don't know who tended them, though. I've got Oglevie and the computer scanning all our tapes from the garden, but they haven't come up with anything yet.”

  “Maybe you ought to press Mr. Crane into service,” remarked the Black Pearl. “He likes a challenge.”

  “Perhaps I will,” agreed the Dragon Lady.

  “At least it'll keep him out of my hair,” said the Black Pearl. “By the way, where's Infante?”

  “We moved his body to one of the private rooms.”

  “Good. Well, there's nothing more to see here.”

  The Black Pearl walked back to the waiting room, followed by the Security Chief. A moment later a male patron wandered in, explained somewhat disjointedly that he had had a bit too much to drink and was suffering from a violently upset stomach, sat down, and promptly passed out.

  “How long before Weeping Willow is awake?” asked the Black Pearl.

  “Three hours, possibly four.”

  “I don't see any reason for sitting around here until she's cogent enough to fire,” said the madam. “Would you care to come back to my apartment for a drink?”

  “Why not?” said the Dragon Lady, getting to her feet.

  They walked out into the Mall, took the slidewalk to the airlock, and then rode the tramway back to the Resort. A few moments later they entered the Black Pearl's office, walked through it, and then entered her opulently-furnished bedroom.

  “It's nice to get out of this thing,” said the Black Pearl, removing her intricately-woven beaded garment. “It itches like the devil!”

  “Someday I must tell you about an outfit I used to wear,” remarked the Dragon Lady. “It was all leather, from the neck right down to the five-inch heels. The only things that were exposed were my breasts and my crotch. I must have sweated off ten pounds every time I wore it.”

  “Then why did you bother?”

  “Because I sweated off ten pounds every time I wore it,” said the Dragon Lady with a laugh. “I wonder if any of the patrons know just how uncomfortable most of these outfits are.”

  “It would spoil the illusion,” said the Black Pearl wryly, as she slipped into a nondescript orange jumpsuit and uttered a sigh of relief. “Ah! That's better.”

  A small chirping noise came from another room.

  “Feeding time at the zoo,” said the Black Pearl, heading off in the direction of the sound.

  “I'm not sure that zoo is the proper word for it,” said the Dragon Lady, following her.

  “Maybe not,” she agreed, passing through a doorway into a warm, very humid room. “But you'll never convince me that garden is any better.”

  When both of them were inside the room, the Black Pearl ordered the door to close.

  “I don't remember it being quite this warm before,” remarked the Dragon Lady.

  “I've been experimenting with the temperature,” answered the Black Pearl. “I think they do a little better if I simulate mild seasonal changes.”

  The Dragon Lady came to a stop, and looked at the row upon row of delicate flowers that were carefully arranged on utilitarian tables, three dozen large ones potted individually and perhaps one hundred smaller ones laid out in flats. They were completely transparent—stem, leaves, stamen, calyx, petals—but they seemed to glisten and glow with life, as the fluid that flowed through them made hypnotic whirling patterns that seemed to catch and hold the room's artificial light.

  Three or four of them were making tinkling little chirping sounds until the Black Pearl poured a reddish powder into a large container of water and began stirring it. Then suddenly the entire
room became filled with more and more persistent chirpings that soon began to sound almost harshly insistent.

  “In a minute,” crooned the Black Pearl, stirring the mixture. “I'm almost done.”

  A moment later she began walking among the flowers, pouring perhaps two ounces of the water and additive at the base of each. The flowers that were so treated soon began uttering contented trilling noises, and then fell silent, while the others increased their musical jabbering to the point where it almost resembled panicky shrieking. It took two more containers of the mixture before all of them had been fed, and once more the room was silent, except for an occasional gentle trilling.

  “Could you turn out the light for a minute?” asked the Dragon Lady.

  “It's not time yet,” replied the Black Pearl. “I don't want to confuse them.”

  “Just for a minute. Then you can turn it back on.”

  The Black Pearl smiled and ordered the light to shut off—and an instant later the room was bathed in the living glow of the crystalline flowers.

  “Just beautiful!” commented the Dragon Lady. “You know, sometimes when I'm on duty late at night, I activate the cameras in here and just stare at them.”

  The Black Pearl commanded the light back on. “Do you really?”

  “Yes. What are they worth on the open market these days?” asked the Dragon Lady curiously.

  “There's no open market for them, unless you live on Doradus IV—but you can get, oh, maybe five thousand credits apiece for the big ones, and two each for the babies.” She paused. “You can have one for free, if you'd like.”

  The Security Chief shook her head. “They take too much work to keep alive.”

  “It's not easy,” agreed the madam.

  “Then why do you bother?”

  “I like to do it. I think when I quit here, I'm going to raise Night Crystals for a living.”

  “That's a long time in the future.”

  “Don't bet on it,” replied the Black Pearl. “I've saved a lot of money—and of course I get very good investment advice from some of our patrons. I plan to be off the Comet and out of the business within three years.”

  “I think that raising flowers—even Night Crystals—for a living would bore you to tears,” said the Dragon Lady firmly.

  “It hasn't yet.”