Eros Descending by Mike Resnick

Author:Mike Resnick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2011-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Doctor Gold?”

Gold stared at the holographic image that his computer had projected in front of him.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Richard Constantine. I’ve been trying to contact you for hours.”

“I’m a busy man.”

“So am I,” said Constantine. “And I don’t especially like to be kept waiting.”

“Your likes and dislikes are of very little concern to me, Mr. Constantine,” replied Gold.

“And what of Vladimir Kozinsky’s fate? Is that of any concern to you?”

“I left the Comet almost eight hours ago,” said Gold. “I’d be very much surprised if he’s still alive.”

“He died five hours ago,” said Constantine.

“I want it known that he did not represent the Church of the Purity of Jesus Christ, and that we totally disown his actions.”

“You don’t sound terribly broken up about it,” noted Constantine sardonically.

“He tried to destroy a human life—in fact, quite a number of them. This was in direct opposition to everything we believe in, and while we pray for his soul we condemn his actions.” He reached for his computer controls. “And now, if you’ve nothing further to say . . ."

“I’m not through yet,” said Constantine.

Gold leaned back and stared at his image curiously.

“Go on,” he said.

“What would you like done with the body?”

“You speak about it as if I had some proprietary interest in it,” said Gold. “May I suggest that you contact his family on Declan IV?”

“I’ve tried. He seems to have no living relatives.”

“Then I recommend that you dispose of it in the most efficient way possible.”

“Doctor Gold,” said Constantine coldly, “personally, I don’t give a damn what happens to his body. But I thought I owed you the courtesy of seeing if there is any method that is preferred by your church—or if there is any particular means of disposal that would cause distress to a Jesus Pure.”

“I apologize,” said Gold. “We have no particular strictures—burial and cremation are both acceptable.”

“Then, with your permission, I’ll give the order to cremate his remains,” said Constantine. “Burial plots are running at a premium, and I imagine his funds will be tied up by the courts for some time.”

“That will be fine,” said Gold dryly. “I certainly wouldn’t want to put a financial strain on the Vainmill Syndicate.” He paused. “Have we anything further to discuss?”

“Just one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You are in possession of something that doesn’t belong to you,” said Constantine. “Since you seem disinclined to use it, I was wondering if you had any intention of returning it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Gold coldly.

Constantine stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Thank you for your time, Doctor Gold,” he paid at last. “I’m sure we will meet in person one these days.”

“I doubt it,” replied Gold, breaking the connection.

He sat motionless for a few minutes, then got to his feet, commanded the door to open, and walked out into the living room, where Simon was seated on a high-backed chair, reading.

“I just heard from Richard Constantine,” he announced.

“Oh?” said Simon, placing his book down on a table.

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