Isaac Asimov's Chimera by Mark W. Tiedemann

Isaac Asimov's Chimera by Mark W. Tiedemann

Author:Mark W. Tiedemann [Tiedemann, Mark W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction
ISBN: 158824590X
Publisher: ibooks, Inc.
Published: 2001-04-01T05:00:00+00:00


FIFTEEN

“You’re late.”

Ariel nodded curtly to Coren’s escort, who bowed formally and left. Ariel stood to one side, waving Coren in.

“Your tailor took his time,” Coren said, entering the apartment.

Ariel Burgess wore a gown of graphite-gray material that contained motes of color which sparkled delicately. The cut had no sharp edges and, rather than encase her body, seemed to travel along with her. Coren kept expecting to see thigh or hip or breast or belly through the mist, but, though the fabric covered her reluctantly, it never failed to hide.

She wore no jewelry. Her black hair was braided thickly into a helix laced with silver, blue, and gold ribbons. She appeared to be barefoot. Coren could not stop watching her, thoroughly caught by what he saw.

“No matter,” she said. “Fashionably late is better than being too early. Have you ever been to one of these before?”

“No,” Coren said. “Rega has never been invited.”

She frowned. “Oh, I doubt that. Setaris is always trying to persuade detractors to come see for themselves.” She shrugged, then gave him an open appraisal. She nodded. “That will do.”

Coren bristled briefly at the inspection. The Auroran tailor complained that he was unused to working for Terrans because they were so short and thick, all the while his lasers measured him and his robot did the cutting. The suit, a midnight blue formal affair, fit beautifully—Coren enjoyed fine clothes, especially new ones, and he had never owned an Auroran outfit before. The sleeves seemed a bit too loose, but nothing was too tight, and after the trip from the tailor’s to Ariel’s apartment it felt as natural as skin.

Then he felt foolish for resenting her. He had been studying her, after all.

“I’m glad I meet your standards,” he said.

She cocked an eyebrow. “For tonight, at least.” She crossed the room to a comm console, dragging his gaze with her. She retrieved a disk and brought it to him. “Take this now, just in case.”

“What is it?”

“The subject of our evening’s discussion. But later. We have to go.”

In the corridor, she frowned. “How well do you handle the open?”

“As in…?”

“Unroofed space, free air, stars in the sky.”

“I can manage well enough.”

Ariel looked dubious. They reached a wide area lined with elevator doors. She tapped a code into one.

“Well,” she said, “if it becomes too much, there are plenty of enclosed spaces in Setaris’s residence.”

The door opened on a comfortable car with a plush bench mounted in a semicircle. Coren barely felt it begin to move and after a few moments there was no discernable motion.

Ariel slid briefly against him, thighs touching. His nostrils filled with a subdued odor and he became instantly affected by her presence.

“All right, we have a minute,” Ariel said. “Do you have any questions about protocol? Have you been to any Spacer functions?”

Coren set aside his growing distraction. “Um…when I worked for Special Service, there were occasions, but I’ve never been a guest.”

Ariel nodded. “I have no idea yet what the occasion for this dinner is, but I have no doubt several guests will be recording it.



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