Eros Ascending: Book 1 of Tales of the Velvet Comet by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

Security. You can call me Rasputin.”
    “An interesting name for a Security chief,” remarked Redwine.
    “I chose it myself,” replied Rasputin proudly. He turned to the woman at the desk. “Hold all my messages while I'm with Mr. Redwine.” He walked to the door through which he had entered. “Follow me, Mr. Redwine—or may I call you Harry?”
    “Harry's fine,” said Redwine, falling into step behind him. They walked down a narrow corridor, past a number of closed doors, and finally entered a modestly-furnished office that would easily have fit into one of the Resort's bathrooms.
    There was a small computer console on a plain metal desk, and right next to the control panel was a holograph of a rather pretty woman and two small boys. There were a pair of rather uninspired prints on the wall, one an astronomical scene and the other an alien landscape of some distant chlorine world. A small shelf held a holograph of the two boys, another showed them as young men with their own families, and a glass case contained a trio of medals.
    Redwine approached the medals and scrutinized them.
    “New Rhodesia,” he read. “Did you see much action there?”
    “Just mopping-up stuff,” said Rasputin. “Some nut named Bland set up a death camp there, and the Navy moved in and ran him off the planet.”
    “How long have you been out of the service?”
    “About fifteen years. I signed on here when they activated the Comet twelve years ago.”
    “Your wife?” asked Redwine, indicating the woman in the holograph.
    Rasputin nodded. “She's dead now. Spaceship wreck.”
    “I'm sorry.”
    The Security chief sighed. “It happens.”
    An awkward silence ensued as Redwine wondered what to say next.
    “Have a seat, Harry,” said Rasputin at last, indicating a chair. He walked over to a small, built-in bar.
    “Can I offer you something to drink—a Cygnian cognac, perhaps?”
    “Just whiskey will do. Straight.”
    “You're an easy man to please,” remarked Rasputin, pouring out a glass and handing it to him.
    “You're not joining me?” asked Redwine, as the security man sat down behind his desk.
    “Never when I'm on duty,” he replied. “It's a holdover from my military days.”
    “Well perhaps later, then,” said Redwine. “If you're over at the Resort later tonight, hunt me up and I'll buy you one.”
    “I wish I could take you up on that, Harry,” said Rasputin, “but I'm afraid I'm going to be working late tonight.”
    “Nothing serious, I hope.”
    Rasputin stared at him. “I won't know that until I can figure out what you did to the main computer last night.”
    Redwine almost choked on his drink.
    “I'm afraid I don't follow you,” he said, coughing.
    “Oh, come off it, Harry,” said Rasputin easily. “We both know what I'm talking about.” He paused. “You're good , I'll give you that. I still don't know how you got into it or what you did to it.”
    “Then what makes you think I did anything at all?” asked Redwine, quickly recovering his composure.
    “Because I'm good at my job, too,” replied Rasputin.
    “That's why I thought we ought to have this little chat before I showed you around.”
    “If you really believe I did something to the computer, are you sure you want to show me around?”
    “Well, that's something else I gave a lot of thought to. But I've already checked you out with headquarters. You really are a company accountant. Your retina checks, your identification checks, everything checks.
    Whatever else you are, you're not a ringer.” He paused and sighed heavily. “The thing that bothers me is that you couldn't have done it without a skeleton card—and not just any skeleton card, either. It has to be one that can transmit a Priority Code to the computer. That means you've got an awfully high security clearance.” Rasputin frowned. “What I want to know is why I wasn't told about you? I mean, hell, I'm the Chief of Security!”
    “Have you ever considered the