Rock of Ages by Walter Jon Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

performed the trick very poorly for you to have noticed.”
    “On the contrary,” Kuusinen said, “your working of the trick was excellent, and I noticed nothing at the time. But, in thinking about the trick afterward, I realized how it had to be done, and—I apologize again—I was consumed with a desire for the information.”
    “I’d be obliged if you refrained from sharing your line of reasoning with the others.”
    “I won’t, I assure you. This is purely for my own satisfaction.”
    “The technique is called a top change.”
    Kuusinen closed his eyes and absorbed the bit of jargon with an expression akin to bliss. His eyes fluttered open. “Thank you, sir.”
    “I hope you sleep well.”
    “I’m sure I shall.”
    Maijstral closed the door and was on his way to the closet when he was interrupted by a gentle chime from the phone. He answered, and the visage of the Duchess of Benn appeared on the screen.
    “If you’re looking for Mr. Kuusinen,” Maijstral said, “he just left.”
    “I wasn’t, actually,” Roberta said. “I was hoping that I might invite myself along on your riding trip tomorrow.”
    “You’re most welcome,” Maijstral said, “but I’m afraid I won’t be a very challenging companion. I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”
    “Neither have I. We shall learn together.”
    “I shall look forward.”
    “Good night, Maijstral.”
    “Good night, your grace.”
    Maijstral turned from the phone to see the closet door gliding open. Conchita appeared. “Was that the Duchess of Benn?” she asked.
    “It was.”
    “That’s fingo all right!”
    Maijstral raised, his eyebrows at this piece of cant. “Sorry?” he said.
    “I mean, I’m impressed. You stole the Eltdown Shard from her and she not only still speaks to you, she looks for ways to ride off into the sunset with you.”
    Maijstral blinked. There was a lot more to the Eltdown Shard story than ever reached the public, and he intended it stay that way. “I believe you were leaving,” he said.
    “Well.” Conchita shrugged. “I suppose I was.”
    “Shall I open a window for you?”
    “No thanks, I got in through the ventilation.”
    She popped a grill off the wall, floated up off the floor, entered feet-first, and paused to give a wave before she disappeared into the ventilator shaft. Maijstral walked to the service plate and touched it.
    “Roman. Would you come in here, if you please?”
    It was Drexler’s voice that answered. “Sorry, Mr. Maijstral. Roman left before dinner and hasn’t returned. May I be of service?”
    Maijstral paused. It was most unlike Roman to be absent at this hour, when he; was usually required to unlace Maijstral from his jacket and trousers. Maijstral would have to summon a robot to do the job.
    “Did Roman say where he was going?”
    “No, sir. May I help you?”
    First things first, Maijstral thought. “Yes,” he said.
    “Miss Sparrow has returned. I don’t know if she left anything behind, but if she did, I want it found.”
    “I’ll take care of that right away, sir.”
    “Thank you, Drexler.”
    Another long search of his own quarters, Maijstral thought wearily.
    He hoped he wouldn’t have to get used to this.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Maijstral arrived for his ride dressed in what he believed to be the correct costume: wide Stetson hat, large bandanna, leather vest, fringed chaps, high-heeled proughskin boots with pointed toes, silver rowel spurs that gleamed in the sunlight, a stunner in the shape of one of Mr. Colt’s revolvers on one hip and a waspish rapier on the other.
    Will, the Bubber, regarded Maijstral with an expression of genial surprise as he stalked into the stables on his tall heels. “Very authentic,” he said.
    “Am I . . . overdressed?” Maijstral said. The Bubber’s costume complemented his own only in the matter of boots.
    “I don’t think we’re going to be attacked by outlaws,” the Bubber said, “but I’m sure that if we are, we’ll be thankful for