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

by Mike Resnick

  “You and the Black Pearl keep talking about it as if it's something more than a brothel,” said Crane. “It's a little bigger and brighter than most, but it's just a whorehouse. If you want to talk about something unique, talk about Quintus Bello.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “Bello's just a man who made a poor decision based on incomplete information, the same decision you or I might have made. But the Comet is something special.”

  Crane snorted derisively.

  “It is, Mr. Crane. It's more than a brothel.”

  “So it's got gambling and restaurants. There are lots of resorts; there's only one Bello.”

  “It's more than a resort,” she continued adamantly. “It's a refuge from reality, a place where everyone—patrons and employees alike—can don those masks that you view with such disfavor, and participate in a universe where, for a few fleeting hours, there is no Quintus Bello.”

  “Well, it's not my universe,” he said with finality. “Mine is filled with mountains and chasms, and Quintus Bello is my stepladder to the tallest peak there is.”

  “Regardless of the consequences?”

  “You keep talking about it as if he wasn't a convicted mass murderer,” said Crane. “Or as if the Velvet Comet will go out of business tomorrow if I capture him today. They're both erroneous assumptions.”

  “We all may wear masks up here,” said the Dragon Lady. “But you wear blinders. Nothing is as open-and-shut and clear-cut as you would like to believe, and especially not this case.”

  “We'll see,” he replied. “In the meantime, if you won't help me, I strongly suggest that you don't try to hinder me.” He stared coldly at her. “That means, for starters, that I expect the power to stay off in the tramway.”

  “I'll give you fair warning before I turn it back on,” she said.

  “One other thing,” said Crane. “Pagliacci is the one who wants him alive. I just want him, period.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means don't stand too close to him if we start shooting.”

  “Nothing will make you change your mind?” she asked, getting to her feet.

  “The Black Pearl tried to buy me off, but she overvalued what she had to sell,” said Crane. “What's your offer?”

  “I haven't one.”

  “Good. That saves me the trouble of refusing it.”

  She looked down at him and sighed. “You have the capacity to be a truly remarkable man,” she said at last. “I hope that if you are confronted with a similar situation 15 years from now you're not still so hungry that you make the wrong decision again.”

  “We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?” said Crane.

  “Let's hope we're all still alive then,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away.

  Chapter 13

  Crane sat up abruptly when he heard the pounding on the door.

  “Cupid, who is it?”

  PAGLIACCI.

  “Let him in.”

  He got off the bed and walked to the living room just as the comedian was stepping through the doorway.

  “Hi, Andy,” said Pagliacci, shooting him a big smile and heading off toward the bar. “I hope I didn't wake you up.”

  “I was just dozing,” said Crane, smoothing his hair back with his hands.

  “Mind if I ask you a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Where is who?” responded Crane.

  Pagliacci chuckled as he poured himself a drink.

  “Come on, Andy,” he said easily. “I already told you that it makes me nervous when you pretend to be stupid.”

  “You're talking about Bello?” asked Crane. “How the hell should I know? Still on Deluros, I suppose.”

  “I'm going to ask you politely one more time,” said Pagliacci. “Where is he?”

  “You think he's on the Comet?”

  “Oh, no,” said Pagliacci with a grin. “I know he's on the Comet. What I don't know is why you're lying to me.”

  “What makes you so sure that I'm lying?”

  “I'm not blind, Andy. Neither you nor the Dragon Lady are standing watch, and the tramway has been shut down. He's somewhere in the Resort, all right, and you've seen to it that he's going to stay here. Why? Are you negotiating some kind of buy-off?”

  “No.”

  “Then what's going on?”

  Crane sighed and sat down on his contour chair.

  “You're going to find out anyway,” he said at last. “I might as well lay it out for you.”

  “I think that would be your best bet,” agreed Pagliacci.

  “He got by us during the Dragon Lady's watch.”

  “How?”

  “Disguised himself as a cargo hand and went right to the service level below the tramway,” replied Crane.

  “Evidently Morales was to make contact instantly, and he knew right away that he'd walked into a trap.” Crane grimaced. “So he went directly to the Black Pearl's office.”

  “And claimed sanctuary?”

  Crane shook his head. “He didn't have to claim a damned thing. All he did was tell her who he was, and she decided that she didn't want any kind of a scene aboard her ship.”

  “Too bad for her,” said Pagliacci, downing his drink and pouring himself another. “She's got it whether she wants it or not.”

  “It's not that simple,” said Crane.

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “Because the Dragon Lady is on her side.”

  “That's some partner you picked for us, Andy,” said Pagliacci, frowning. “Steadfast, loyal, and true.”

  “She has her reasons.”

  “What possible reason could she have for defending that madman?” asked Pagliacci contemptuously.

  “She heard his version of what happened.”

  “I'll bet it was a dandy,” said Pagliacci. “Did he try to throw his body in the path of the planes when they were taking off?'”

  “No. It was more rational than that.”

  Pagliacci snorted derisively.

  “It was,” repeated Crane. He paused. “I believe him too.”

  “What the hell did he say?” demanded Pagliacci.

  “That radio contact with the medical ship was lost, and the Republic dispatched a second ship on the assumption the first one had been disabled, and that he ordered the air strike because the second ship couldn't arrive in time to save the people in the Hospital camps, and this was the only way to stop the disease from spreading.”

  “Bullshit!” yelled Pagliacci.

  “You were there,” said Crane. “Was there a second ship?”

  “How the hell do I know?” snapped Pagliacci. “I was too busy burying what was left of my family!”

  “It would have arrived about ten or twelve days after the air strike.”

  “I don't remember any ship!” said Pagliacci. “All I remember are two fucking craters in the ground where 11,000 people had been!”

  “Well, that's his story.”

  “It's a goddamned lie!”

  Crane shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “And now you're on his side?” continued Pagliacci.

  “No.”

  “Good for you, Andy,” said the comedian. “You just increased your life expectancy.”

  Crane stared at him and said nothing.

  “He's still in the madam's office?” asked Pagliacci.

  “Yes. I haven't decided whether to go in after him or wait him out.”

  “Who's watching him?”

  “The computer. It'll tell me if he tries to leave.”

  “Where's the Dragon Lady?”

  “Back at Security headquarters, last time I checked,” said Crane.

  “Then there's nobody in the Black Pearl's office except her and Bello,” said Pagliacci. “Let's go in and grab him.”

  “It's not that easy.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because right now the Dragon Lady is neutral. The second
we make a move, she could order Security to oppose us.”

  “You outrank her. Tell the guards to obey you.”

  “Their first job is to protect the ship,” said Crane patiently. “If we try to break into the madam's office, there's only one response they'll be able to make—or do you plan to kill every Security guard on the ship, too?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Don't be an ass,” said Crane. “The way the situation is shaping up, force is our last resort.”

  Pagliacci scrutinized his face for a moment, then shrugged. “All right. How do you suggest we go about getting our hands on him?”

  “I'm not sure yet, but I'm leaning toward offering him a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Safe passage to Deluros and an open trial.”

  “He'll never buy it,” said Pagliacci firmly. “He's guilty as sin.”

  “Still, it can't hurt to offer it,” said Crane. He turned to the screen. “Cupid!”

  YES?

  “Patch me through to the Black Pearl's office.”

  WORKING ... The Black Pearl's image appeared a moment later.

  “What do you want?” she said coldly.

  “Let me talk to Bello.”

  'No.”

  “I've got a proposal for him.”

  “So what?”

  “Don't you think he ought to at least be allowed to listen to it?”

  She stared at his image for a moment.

  “I'll see if he's interested in talking to you,” she said, walking out of the range of the camera.

  Crane turned to Pagliacci. “You keep your mouth shut while I'm talking.”

  The comedian made no reply, and didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard the statement.

  “I'm warning you...” continued Crane. Then Bello's image was in front of him, and he turned to face it. “Mr. Bello.”

  “Mr. Crane.”

  “I've got a deal to offer you.”

  “Who is that person next to you?” asked Bello.

  “Never mind,” said Crane.

  “Is he the one who killed Infante?”

  “Yes,” said Pagliacci.

  “Edward Infante was a good and decent man,” said Bello grimly, staring at Pagliacci's image. “You have much to answer for, sir.”

  “Why, you fucking hypocrite!” bellowed Pagliacci. “With all the blood you've got on your hands, you have the gall to —”

  "Shut up!" yelled Crane, and Pagliacci, momentarily startled, fell silent. “Are you interested in hearing my proposition or not, Mr. Bello?”

  “Go ahead,” said Bello, still glaring at Pagliacci.

  “If I can promise you safe passage to Deluros and a public trial by the military, will you surrender yourself into my custody?”

  “No.”

  “I thought all you wanted was your day in court,” persisted Crane.

  “By a jury of my peers,” answered Bello. “You have the Secretary of the Republic promise me, in writing, that I will be judged by a panel of military governors, and I will place myself under your protective custody.”

  “There's never been a jury composed solely of military governors,” said Crane.

  “Then I won't be able to get a fair trial on Deluros, and I will not agree to your terms.”

  “Then name your planet.”

  “Not interested, Mr. Crane.”

  “You don't want a trial at all, do you?” said Crane.

  “I see no point in extending our conversation, Mr. Crane,” replied Bello, reaching his hand out and breaking the connection.

  There was a momentary silence, which Pagliacci finally broke.

  “I told you he'd never buy it. Now are you ready to go over there and drag him out?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well,” said the comedian, walking around the bar and heading back to the doorway, “I'll give you a little more time to work things out peaceably, Andy. I've been patient for ten years; another few hours won't hurt.”

  “Thanks for small favors,” said Crane sardonically.

  “It's a big favor,” replied Pagliacci. “There's something else you should know.”

  “Oh?”

  The comedian nodded. “Ten years is just about my limit.”

  “I can't say that I'm flabbergasted.”

  “I'm not joking, Andy,” said Pagliacci. “I'm giving you until midnight to extricate him peacefully.”

  “And then?” asked Crane dryly.

  “And then we do it my way—and God help anyone who stands between me and Quintus Bello.”

  Chapter 14

  The Black Pearl carried the two trays to her dining room, placed them on the polished table, and ordered Cupid to activate her apartment's intercom system.

  “Dinner's ready, Mr. Bello,” she announced.

  He entered the room a moment later.

  “It looks exquisite,” he said, looking at the beautifully garnished plates.

  “It is,” she replied, sitting down at the head of the table and gesturing for him to sit opposite her. “We have the finest chefs in the Republic working for us.”

  “You didn't make it yourself?” he asked, obviously disturbed.

  “Do I look like a cook?”

  “Then it was sent here from the kitchen.”

  “From one of them.”

  “Does Crane have access to the various kitchens?”

  “Of course.”

  Bello stared at the plate for a moment, then pushed it to the center of the table.

  “It's not poisoned, Mr. Bello,” the Black Pearl assured him.

  “A man in my position can't afford to take chances.”

  “Can a man in your position afford to starve to death?” she asked.

  “I'm not hungry,” he said with finality.

  “Maybe I can change your mind,” she said. “Cupid?”

  YES?

  “Have either Mr. Crane or Pagliacci visited any of our kitchens, or been in contact with the waiter who just delivered this food?”

  NO.

  The Black Pearl smiled at Bello. “See? All that worry for nothing. Now enjoy your meal.”

  “No, thank you. Someone in the kitchen may have found out that I'm here and acted on his own.”

  The Black Pearl sighed. “I don't know how to tell you this gently, Mr. Bello, but you're yesterday's news.”

  “I don't understand what you mean.”

  “Pagliacci's got a personal grudge against you, and Mr. Crane sees you as a means of advancing his career, and of course our patrons are, by and large, very well-informed—but most of the employees aboard the Comet probably don't even know who you are or what you've done.”

  “Rubbish!”

  “Truth,” she responded. “New Sumatra's a long, long way from here, both in space and in time. There have been a lot of notorious people in the headlines since you dropped out of sight—and your name really doesn't belong up there in lights with, say, Adolph Hitler and Conrad Bland. In fact, if Mr. Crane was a little higher up in the Vainmill organization, I don't think he'd bother with you at all, given the problems that arresting you will entail. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're really a rather minor villain.”

  “How comforting,” he said dryly.

  “Well, at least it means you don't have to starve to death.”

  She began eating her dinner. He watched her very carefully for a few moments, then shrugged, reached for his plate, and took a tentative mouthful.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “It's very good,” he admitted.

  “Poisoned?”

  “I hope not,” he replied, taking another bite.

  “I'd offer to ease your mind by trading plates with you,” she said, “but since nobody had any way of knowing which of us would be eating from which plate, it seems rather pointless.”

  “I agree,” said Bello, digging into his meal with a vengeance.

  “May I offer you some wine?” she asked, opening a bottle and filli
ng her own glass.

  “No, thanks,” he replied. “I'll keep my risks to a minimum.”

  “Well, now I know how you've managed to live so long,” she said with a shrug.

  “It hasn't been easy. I've been in constant danger ever since I escaped from prison.”

  “Why did you choose to hide out on Deluros?”

  He smiled. “It was not unlike the deserter hiding out in the middle of a battlefield. For all practical purposes Deluros VIII is the capital world of the Republic; it's only a matter of time before it officially supersedes Earth. It struck me that this was the last place they'd think of looking for me.”

  “That seems logical,” she admitted.

  “It worked for about eight years,” he continued.

  “But they've been closing in on me recently, and it became imperative that I leave.”

  “They? You mean the government?”

  “I assume so—though their methods have been so brutal that it may well be some organization of New Sumatran vigilantes bent on revenge. I really couldn't say.” He looked across the table at her. “I'm just thankful that you believe in me.”

  “I don't,” said the Black Pearl.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I believe that people are ultimately responsible for their actions. An awful lot of people died because you made a wrong decision. I think you belong in jail.”

  “But you heard my explanation!”

  “I think it was inadequate.”

  “In what way?” he demanded.

  “You ordered the air strike on your own authority,” she answered. “Nobody told you to do it. If the disease hadn't spread in twelve days, it probably wouldn't have spread if you'd have waited two more days until the ship was due. You may have had bad information, but you're the one who acted on it—not the Republic, not your advisors, not your underlings. You killed 11,000 people, Mr. Bello, and all the explanations in the world won't change that.”

  “Then why didn't you turn me over to Crane?”

  “As I said, people are responsible for their actions, and my primary responsibility is the well-being of the Velvet Comet. I've been entrusted with its care and protection, and you simply aren't important enough to betray that trust.”