Starship Winter (David Conway 03) by Brown Eric

Author:Brown, Eric [Brown, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PS Publishing
Published: 2012-05-31T21:00:00+00:00

— FIVE —

That weekend was a period of blissful happiness. A wonderful woman had miraculously fallen into my lap and I was surrounded by true friends; there was nothing to suggest that the halcyon days should not go on forever.

Hannah stayed over at the Mantis with me on the Saturday evening and we slept late on Sunday morning, slumbering in each others arms as the sun slanted in through the dorsal viewscreen. I was constantly on the verge of laughing out loud at my good fortune, and I could tell that Hannah was pretty damned happy too.

I cooked a late breakfast and we ate on the balcony overlooking the beach and watched the world go by.

Around noon we set off for Dortmund’s villa, Ocean Heights, stopping off at Hannah’s apartment in Mackinley so that she could change and pack an overnight bag.

As I drove from the town and into the hills, Hannah curled beside me and said, “I wonder why Dortmund’s throwing the party? It seems out of character. He’s been the personification of cold since we met him, and now he’s invited us to what looks like being a lavish do.”

I smiled at her. Wind whipped at her blonde hair, and her green eyes twinkled at me. “Maybe it’s to do with his ego,” I suggested. “He’s not bothered about us having a good time and enjoying ourselves – all the reasons you normally throw a party. He wants to put on a show to prove that he can do it, that he has the money and the wherewithal.”

She tapped my arm with a long finger. “Or maybe you’re too nice a person to divine his true motives?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, he’s invited us so that we’ll all be together when he performs some stunning and malicious party trick, proving himself right and the rest of us wrong…”

“You mean something regarding Matt’s exhibition?”

She shrugged. “It’s only a thought. Considering what I know of Dortmund, and judging by his behaviour so far, I don’t think we’re in for a particularly relaxing stay.”

“Well, we’ll soon find out,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road ahead and wondering if Hannah’s astute psychological insight would be proved correct by the time we made our way home on Monday morning.

Approached from the road, Ocean Heights seemed an even grander abode than when we had seen it from the falls yesterday. It was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, as anachronistic as it was ugly, and patrolled by security guards. A dozen pitched terracotta roofs showed above the surrounding shola trees and fountains played prismatically over immaculately groomed lawns.

A surly-looking brute scanned our retinas with a handheld device, somehow elucidated we were on the guest list, and activated the swing gates. We drove into the grounds and left the car among a phalanx of other, grander vehicles.

Hannah took my hand and said suddenly, “I’m very happy, Mr Conway.”

I smiled. “Me too!”

We strolled along a winding path through a plantation of alien shrubs, artfully designed so that the last

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