Eros Ascending: Book 1 of Tales of the Velvet Comet (23 page)

The Madonna was sitting on one of the couches, reading. After a few minutes had passed she walked over to the bar and began mixing herself a drink. She had just about finished making it when Suma arrived, dressed in one of the most exotic costumes Redwine had yet seen aboard the Comet.

She wore an elaborate rhinestone headdress which flared out some thirty inches in all directions, and was matched in brilliance by a rhinestone collar and long strands of pearls and rhinestones that draped her almost nude body in swirling patterns. A diaphanous white veil, attached to her collar and wrists, flowed gracefully behind her. Her shoes, also covered with rhinestones, were so high that Redwine couldn't figure out how she kept from falling on her face.

“What a pleasure it is to get this damned headdress off!” said Suma, removing it and placing it down carefully on the couch.

“How are things in the Ice Castle?” asked the Madonna, pouring her drink into a long-stemmed glass.

“Active,” replied Suma. “Mr. Lumbwa decided to be an errant Knight of the Round Table, and insisted that he had to have a genuine Fairy Princess.” She made a face. “I just wish he knew how hard it is to fuck in this outfit.”

“Can I fix you something to drink?” offered the Madonna.

“No,” said Suma. “What was it you wanted me for?”

“I thought we might have a little talk,” said the Madonna, walking over and sitting down on the opposite couch.

“About the Duke, I hope,” said Suma. “When are you going to fire that bastard?”

“I thought your problem with him was all cleared up,” remarked the Madonna.

“Until the next time,” said Suma.

“
Will
there be a next time?”

“If there is, I know how to handle it.”

“With Gamble?” asked the Madonna.

“Of course, with Gamble!” she shot back. “No goddamned pit boss is going to cheat
my
patrons!”

“Perhaps I haven't made my position on the matter clear,” said the Madonna. “If that's the case, let me do so right now.” She stared coldly at Suma. “If Gamble DeWitt strikes any patron or any member of the
Comet
's crew, he's gone. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“He won't attack anyone without cause,” said Suma defiantly.
"Your
job is to see that nobody gives him any cause.”

“In fact, Gamble is getting to be a bit of an embarrassment to the
Comet
,” continued the Madonna, ignoring her outburst. “I wonder if you have any suggestions about what to do with him.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

“No, not really,” said the Madonna. “But I'd appreciate any input you might care to offer.”

“Just leave him alone and he'll be fine,” said Suma. “I'm working with him every day.”

“Are you?”

“What is
that
supposed to mean?”

“I had the impression that you were spending an inordinate amount of time with him
without
working.”

“Well, whoever told you that lied.”

“It's easy enough to check,” said the Madonna. “Shall we ask the computer?”

“How I spend my time is my business!” said Suma defensively.

“I hate to correct you, but how you spend your time is
my
business,” replied the Madonna. “And I think you're spending too much of it with Gamble.”

“Not as much as you're spending with Harry Redwine!” snapped Suma.

“Let me further suggest that how I spend
my
time is not
your
business.” She shrugged. “However, that's neither here nor there. I didn't ask you here to talk about Gamble.”

“And what
did
you ask me here for?” demanded Suma suspiciously.

“You're sure I can't fix you a drink?” asked the Madonna pleasantly.

“Let's just get this over with.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I need your advice.”

“My advice is to get rid of Harry,” said Suma. “The sooner the better.”

“I need your advice about a
different
subject,” said the Madonna with a smile. “I have some vacation time accumulated, and I've been thinking of using it to take a trip to Deluros VIII. You've been there much more recently than I have, so I thought you might be able to recommend a good hotel—the one you stayed at, perhaps?”

“I didn't stay at a hotel.”

“Possibly some restaurants, then, and perhaps a museum or two?”

“I don't go to museums,” said Suma. “And I ate in.”

“How dull,” commented the Madonna. “I hope you at least made some new and interesting friends.”

“A few.”

“Well, perhaps you can give me their names. I'm sure that any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

“I doubt that very much,” replied Suma with a sarcastic laugh.

“I wonder why,” remarked the Madonna dryly.

“Harry lives on Deluros. Why don't you ask
him
about it?”

“Oh, Harry doesn't know any interesting people,” said the Madonna.

“You'd be surprised.”

“Well, he certainly doesn't know any of the Directors of the various Vainmill divisions,” continued the Madonna.

“All right!” snapped Suma suddenly. “What's going on here?”

“Nothing at all,” said the Madonna. “We're just having a pleasant little talk about your friends on Deluros.”

“What I did on Deluros is none of your business!”

“I think it is.”

“Well, you're wrong,” said Suma decisively.

“Who paid for your trip there?”

“I don't think I'm going to tell you,” said Suma with a confident smile.

“I didn't think you were, either,” said the Madonna.

She paused. “Let's change the subject.”

“That's fine by me.”

“Tell me about Lena Boatswain.”

“She works in Security.”

“I thought you might tell me a little more than that.”

“Ask your computer,” said Suma with an amused laugh.

“What's so funny?”

“You don't know a damned thing,” responded Suma. “This is all guesswork.”

“I know
one
thing,” said the Madonna seriously. “I'm not ready to step down yet—and when I am, I won't be replaced by some avaricious teenaged girl who doesn't give a damn about anything except herself.”

“You think not?” said Suma. “Well, let me tell you,
nobody
cares more about this ship than I do!”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“You think
you
do?” said Suma contemptuously. “You don't even know what's going on! You're so busy worrying about the decor and the cuisine and the ambience that you don't even see what's happening right under your nose!”

“What is happening right under my nose?” asked the Madonna calmly.

“Well, for one thing, you're shacking up with the man who was sent here to kill the
Comet
!”

“If you've known that all along, why haven't you told me before now?”

“Because I'm not saving it for
you
,” said Suma. “I'm saving it for
me
. You're an obsolete old woman who's outlived her usefulness. You let Harry sweet-talk you into neglecting your duties, and you're going to pay the price for it.”

“What duties do you think I've neglected?” asked the Madonna.

“How about the preservation of the
Comet
?” responded Suma. “Isn't
that
supposed to be your primary duty?”

“Yes, it is,” agreed the Madonna. “And you've just convinced me that you're a bigger threat to the
Comet
than Harry is.”

“A bigger threat to
you
, maybe.”

“It comes to the same thing,” said the Madonna.

“The hell it does. The
Comet
will be here long after you're gone and forgotten.”

“I sincerely hope so,” said the Madonna. She stared directly into Suma's eyes. “But
you
won't be.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard me,” replied the Madonna calmly. “I'm firing you.”

“On what grounds?”

“Insubordination.”

“Don't make me laugh.”

“I wasn't trying to,” said the Madonna. “Also, when you accepted a direct gratuity from a patron, in the form of a trip to Deluros, you were in violation of your contract.”

“You think that'll hold up?” said Suma contemptuously.

“For a while, at least. Besides, it doesn't have to hold up forever; just until I choose my successor.”

“Then you're quitting?”

“I'm thinking of it.”

“When?” demanded Suma.

“When I'm ready,” replied the Madonna noncomittally.

“This isn't going to work, you know,” said Suma. “I'll be back.”

“Probably you will,” agreed the Madonna. “And hopefully you won't be able to do any more damage then than you did now.”

“This is a really stupid thing for you to do. I'm the biggest earner you've got.”

“Then we'll all just have to tighten our belts and make do as best we can.”

“You're making a very big mistake,” said Suma ominously.

“I don't think so.”

“You don't think at all! Don't you know why Harry came out here in the first place?”

“Harry isn't the subject of this conversation,” said the Madonna. “
You
are. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

“Thirty days.”

“I'd prefer it to be sooner.”

“What you prefer really doesn't interest me,” said Suma. “My contract gives me thirty days.” She paused. “Do you want me to keep working during that time?”

“If you wish.”

“Will I be paid for it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'll work.” Suma got to her feet, picked up her headdress, and walked to the door. “You're going to regret this,” she promised.

“Perhaps,” said the Madonna.

“There's no perhaps about it,” said Suma coldly.

“You're going to be very, very sorry that you did this to me—and sooner than you think.”

Then she stepped out into the corridor, and the door slid shut behind her.

The Madonna walked to the bar and began mixing another drink.

“Harry?” she said. “Are you still there?”

Redwine activated his end of the intercom, and allowed his image to be transferred to her screen.

“Yes, I'm still here,” he said. “I had a ringside seat for the whole show.” He paused. “I just hope you haven't made a mistake.”

“I thought firing her was your idea,” said the Madonna ironically.

“Not about that,” replied Redwine hastily. “But I sure as hell wish you hadn't agreed to give her thirty days to clear out.”

“I didn't have any choice. It's a standard clause in our employment contract.”

“Why? It doesn't make any sense to let someone stick around that long if you've already fired them. Why not just give them some severance pay and be done with it?”

“Because this isn't a planet, Harry; it's a spaceship. You can't go home to your apartment, lick your wounds, and start looking for a new job the next morning. Most of the people I've fired have needed all that time and more, just to find a new job and a new world to live on, and to make the necessary transportation arrangements.”

“Well, I think I'd better keep tabs on Suma, just to be on the safe side. I hate to think of the mischief she can do in thirty days.” He dumped a long ash off his cigar. “Enough about Suma. There's something more important I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“You said something about quitting,” continued Redwine. “Was that for her benefit, or did you mean it?”

“I talked about retiring, not quitting,” replied the Madonna. “I won't cut and run under fire.”

“To hell with semantics. Did you mean it?”

She stared at his image thoughtfully for a moment.

“Yes, I did. I've had a good run at this business, and I've built it up into something to be proud of—but I've been working on the
Comet
for more than a third of my life. Maybe it's time I did something else.”

“Like what?”

“Don't look so frightened, Harry,” she said with a smile. “Whatever it is, I'll be doing it with you.”

“You'll really come away with me when this situation is over?” he persisted.

“Who knows?
You
might come away with
me
. Have I ever shown you the holographs of my farm on Pollux IV?”

He shook his head. “You've talked about it, but I've never seen it.”

“Remind me to show them to you tonight. It's very pretty. There's a stream running by the house, and a pond in back with the strangest-looking waterfowl you ever saw.”

“There's a lot of things to see and do on Deluros,” he said. “Maybe we could use the farm as kind of a retreat, when things get too hectic.”

She laughed. “I'm not really anxious to move from one hectic environment to another.” She paused and stared seriously at the screen. “We've never really spent much time discussing our future, have we?”

“No, we haven't.”

“We've got the rest of our lives ahead of us. Maybe it's time we started making some plans.”

“I've been making them since that first night we spent together,” said Redwine.

“You, too?” she asked with a smile.

“Get those holographs out. I'll be with you in ten minutes.”

Redwine deactivated the computer, left the auxiliary office, and took the tram to the Resort. Once there he went into the Mall just long enough to purchase a dozen roses imported from Earth itself; and then, idly wondering what the climate was like on Pollux IV, he hurried back to rejoin the Madonna.

Redwine spent the next three days alternately putting the final touches on the financial records and monitoring Suma's activities.

He had hoped that she might give away his employer's identity by placing a call to Deluros to complain about being fired, but he was totally unprepared for what she actually did. During the twenty-four hours following her meeting with the Madonna, Suma placed
twenty-six
calls to Deluros, each to a different executive of the Vainmill Syndicate, complaining about the Madonna's handling of the
Comet
without ever mentioning that she herself had been dismissed.

Redwine had the computer check out the list of names. All twenty-six of them—twenty-one men and five women—had been patrons of the
Comet
during the six months prior to Suma's trip to Deluros, and each had spent at least one evening in her company.