Diamond Star by Catherine Asaro Read Free Book Online Page B

living room, through the open doorway. With a sigh, Del turned from the gorgeous sunset and went back into his quarters.
    "Lumos up," he said as he crossed to the console against the far wall. The lights brightened.
    The console should have showed who contacted him, but no image floated above the comm screen. That was odd. No one knew how to reach him here except military officers, certain highly placed members of Earth's government, and Mac. Whenever his family contacted him, they had to go through lengthy protocols complicated by the fact that they all knew Earth's military was monitoring every word.
    Del rolled his shoulders, working out muscle kinks. "Claude?"
    "Good evening," Claude answered. He was an EI, or evolving intelligence, that the military had installed on Del's console. Del had named the EI after Claude Debussy, his favorite among the Earth composers he had so far discovered. He never felt inspired to name AIs, or artificial intelligences, which only simulated emotions, but EIs were more aware. Although he couldn't pick up their moods, they genuinely seemed to experience them. So he named the EIs.
    "Who commed me?" he asked.
    "I don't know," Claude said. "The comm originates in Washington, D.C., but its ID is hidden."
    "Strange." Del squinted at the console. Its comm light was still glowing, which meant the mystery person hadn't cut the line. So he said, "Respond."
    After a pause, Del said, "Hello?"
    "Del!" A sultry female voice floated into the air. "Heya, babe."
    Heya, babe? What did that mean? She sounded like the woman who had offered him the contract. With a sinking sensation, he realized he had celebrated too soon. They were going to withdraw the offer.
    "Hello, Miss Varento," Del said.
    Her throaty laugh wrapped around him. Any other time, that sensual response would have attracted him. Today, he could only think how much he didn't want to hear whatever she had to say next.
    "Call me Ricki," she said. "After all, we're going to be working together."
    Working together. Working together. Del let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
    "Del?" she asked.
    "Do you mind if I put you on visual?" he asked.
    "I'd love that, babe."
    A smile spread on his face. Babe, indeed. Her husky voice reminded him of the voluptuous body under that flimsy dress she had been wearing today. What inspired her to refer to him as an infant, he had no clue, but what the hell. She could talk to him that way all day if she wanted. Especially if she wore that dress.
    He touched a panel, and a screen rose before him. It shimmered blue and cleared to show a starlit room with windows for walls. Beyond them, the nighttime wonderland of a city glistened in gem lights, with the mag-rail adding luminous curves to the skyline. Del found it hard to believe that long ago, buildings in Washington, D.C. had never been more than a few stories high. Now those graceful towers soared. After spending his life in a rural community, the view took his breath.
    Ricki was sitting at a tall table just big enough for two people, wearing a slinky black dress that did even better things for Del's imagination than her outfit this afternoon. Her yellow hair fell to her shoulders and framed her sweet face.
    More pleasant thoughts replaced Del's earlier concerns. "So what are you doing, Ricki, all by yourself?"
    "I'm in a private room on top of the Star Tower Sheraton." Her voice purred. "I was thinking this would be just the place to celebrate your new relationship with Prime-Nova." A pout touched her face. "But you're there and I'm here."
    "Celebrations," Del murmured, "are better with two people."
    She sipped her drink, her lips molding to the glass. Then she licked away the moisture. "If you come soon enough, I'll be here."
    Del wondered if she offered to celebrate this way with all her new acts. He couldn't sense her mood from here; his empathic ability depended on her brain waves, which could only affect him close up. He might be fooling himself,