(eng) L. E. Modesitt - Ghosts 02 by Ghosts of the Revelator

Author:Ghosts of the Revelator [Revelator, Ghosts of the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

20

LLYSETTE'S first rehearsal was scheduled for ten o'clock, and that meant not sleeping too late on Tuesday. She wore a dark green dress with a tan jacket, both tailored, but loose-fitting enough for her to sing. She'd end up removing the jacket. I knew how hot she got once she was really working.

Singing was athletic, and I'd never appreciated that until I'd met Llysette and watched her work.

"Are you ready?" I glanced toward the door of the suite.

"Mais oui."

"Do you mind eating downstairs?"

"Non. I do not like staying in a room, even one as large as this."

I understood. She even hesitated about closing the bedroom door, or any door. At times, I hated, really hated, Ferdinand. Then, probably a third of Europe still did.

She smiled. "You wish to observe?"

She was right about that. We hadn't observed much the day before, just taken a short walk in the wind up to the Temple, only to find the grounds were closed on Monday afternoons for maintenance. So we'd just wandered back to the hotel and taken a nap and eaten and slept. The dirigible trip shouldn't have been that tiring, but it had been. I could tell that because nothing seemed quite real, foreign country or not, despite all my worries and all the Spazi briefing materials.

No one else was about on the sixth floor where we waited for the elevator. Perhaps no one else was staying on what seemed to be the suite floor— or they weren't up yet.

Then, I had noticed the black seals on one door. I wondered how having a ghost-inhabited suite impacted on the bottom line of the Lion Inn. Hotels might provide a good market for de-ghosting equipment. I pushed that thought away. The last thing anyone needed was de-ghosting equipment available to everyone— since it also had the property of turning healthy individuals into zombies. My hand strayed to the calculator in my jacket pocket. The silver pens were in my breast pocket.

Llysette frowned but said nothing.

When we stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, I looked around for a moment before spotting the brass letters that spelled out: "The Refuge."

"There."

Llysette's heels clicked on the marble as we crossed the long lobby to the Inn's restaurant. The Refuge was white-walled, with dark green upholstered chairs and a dark gray carpet.

We didn't even have to wait.

"This way, Fräulein duBoise."

"Someone's briefed them," I whispered as we trailed the young woman to a corner booth, and a table with crisp white linens and shining silver, and a serving tray with six covered silver dishes of assorted jellies.

The menu, as expected, contained no references to coffee or tea, but they did have chocolate, for which I was grateful.

"Chocolate?" asked a smiling waiter, also fairly young, perhaps the age Walter might have been.

"Please," I answered, gesturing to the cups.

He filled both and left the pot on the table.

The dining area was half-filled, but whether that was because it was nearly a quarter past eight or because the Lion Inn

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