Mary Rosenblum (15 page)

“I will try it on.” Ahni smiled at the woman’s adept sales techhnique. “I’m from Taiwan. This is my first visit up here.” As herself anyway. She stripped her singlesuit down to her waist and pulled on the top. It had a slight stretch and the woman was right. The fitted waist and loose sleeves, ending well above her elbows did flatter her boyish figure. It would work in microG, too. She bought it, and a pair of loose formal pants to go with it, chatting with the woman about affairs downside and up here.

“A bunch of folk want to see us go independent.” The shoppkeeper looked down at the clothes as she folded them. “They’re crazy. How could we get along up here? I mean … I came up here because I could own a shop and it was just … there was too much red tape in Lucerne if you wanted to start a new store. You had to wait until someone gave up a place and the waiting list–” She shook her head. “I do okay up here, but how does NOW expect us to survive if the tourists stop coming? They’re crazy.

Downsiders don’t all look down on us. But that’s all you get on the Con these days.” She flushed, smoothed the folded silk she’d wrinkled. “Let me bag these for you. I didn’t mean to be bothering you with our silly local politics.”

“What’s the Con?” Ahni eyeballed the charge screen as the woman slipped the clothes into a bright bag.

“Oh, it’s just a local thing.” The woman laughed a bit awkwardly. “Sort of an ongoing gossip session–but everyone does it all the time. It’s kind of a mess if you’re not used to it. People just talking about their day.”

That’s right. Noah worked on it. Traffic cop, he had said, or something like that. Ahni thanked her and left the shop, continuing her aimless tourist wandering. No tours to the garden, although the park Donya had mentioned advertised a view wall into it. On a whim, she took an elevator upward a few of levels.

This particular elevator let her out in a retail area, one that obviously didn’t cater to tourists. No angles.

Walls, floor, ceiling curved into one another. The shops offered basics and a few luxury items. And she didn’t beelong here. Ahni’s skin priclded with attention as she wandered among the natives, stepping carefully because she felt as if she had springs on her feet. Most of the natives didn’t look at her, but here and there, someone stared rudely.

She pretended not to notice them. Maybe she’d made a mistake. Unobtrusively she scanned the pale mauve arch of corridor, looking for security eyes. Saw a few, not many. Meanwhile, she noticed that two men and a woman were following her. They stared at her. Ahni stifled a prickle of apprehension. They were between her and the elevator plaza. Ahead of her, the corridor widened into what seemed to be a small park.

Grass-carpeted space offered complex climbing equipment for children and a scatter of natives sat or sprawled on the carpet, alone or in small groups, eating, looking at readers, watching small portable holodesks, or listening to music. Some had stripped naked in the summer-afternoon light that filled the space and splashed under a towering fountain that seemed to fall back to the pool in slow motion droplets, curving a bit from the spin of the platform. Behind her, her shadows closed in.

Ahni headed for the center of the park. Here, strolling vendors sold food from backpacks, mostly cold sandwiches and stuffed buns of various types, or poured beverages from shoulder-carried plastic jugs into mugs that natives wore clipped to their belts. One vendor with pale skin and a buzz of black hair looked vaguely familiar. Ahni drifted closer, watching him plant the single pole leg of the grill on the carpeted floor, brace it with one foot, and stir fry a handful of mixed vegetables and tofu for a customer, tossing the food high with a drama that could never work in full Earth gravity. With a flourish, he scooped the hot stir-fry into a rolled cone of thin flatbread, fished a squeeze from his pack, squirted sauce onto the veggies, and handed it to the buyer in return for a couple of small, bright orange disks.

A fiberlight inlay on his wrist, a green Celtic design confirmed er recognition. “Noah?”

He looked up, grinned, his manner easy, pleased. “Hey, Ahni. How cool. I just got back last night.” He offered her a hand. “Wow, what a ride back up! Privacy and everything. Thanks a lot.” His hand closed briefly about her wrist, and tense as she was, she almost knocked it away.

“You don’t want to shake like a heavy–like a downsider. Here.” He grabbed her wrist firmly, his little grill leaning safely to the side. “You grab mine. Like that.” He nodded as her fingers closed around his skinny wrist.

“Good job.” He squeezed her wrist hard, let go. “Now you shake like an upsider.” His grin widened.

“”Cept your muscles give you away. Too thick, even for a gym rat.”

Her shadows had vanished. “Noah, do you mind walking back to the elevator with me?” She smiled up at him. “Do you have a couple of minutes?”

“It’s right over there.” He gestured with his chin. ”You lost?”

”No.” She started to put a hand on his arm, stopped, because she realized that she hadn’t seen any natives touch one another in the corridors. His eyes darkened and narrowed as she told him about her shadows and their intent.

“I’d say you were mistaken, ‘cause that kind of thing never used to happen. But lately–” He shook his head, wiped his grill down with a cloth, slung it over his shoulder with his pack. “Where are you headed?”

“Back to my hotel room. It’s on the skinside level, so a convoy to the elevator is all I need.”

Without a word, Noah took her arm. It had the feel of an immportant gesture and again, Ahni felt
attention
. Bemused she walked with him to the elevator, unsteady because he moved a lot faster than her coordination would have let her do. “Door-to-door service.” He winked as he followed her inside.

“You didn’t stay down long,” she said as they dropped.

”No.” He bit off the word. “I didn’t … impress my grandfather. And … ” He lifted one shoulder. “I needed to get back up here fast.”

“Do you see Dane often?”

”Yeah.” Noah followed her out of the car. “All the time, why?”

“I’m not sure how to get in touch with him. Informally, I mean. I couldn’t find his name in the access directory.”

“Probably not.” Noah laughed. “I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t want to draw any more attention to Koi and his family by sneaking up to the axle again. Someone might notice.

“Thank you,” Ahni said, as they came within sight of the doorman, a different one this time. His flicker of instant disapproval tickled her. “Noah, what did it mean? That you took my arm up there?”

”Nothing–Well, no, that’s not true.” He blushed. ”Itmeans … you’re my friend. Just so … people up in the neighborrhood know.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I appreciate it.”

“I work the mealtime crowds when I’m off. A little extra to add to my regular pay.” His smile gleamed in his eyes. “Come on back up and I’ll show you how to play scrum.” His eyes dimmed briefly. “I’m sorry about those jerks. The Con has gotten nasty. Dane thinks it’s hackers, but I don’t know.” He shook his head. “You probably shouldn’t go wandering around on the upper levels right now by yourself. But my neighborhood’s safe now, so come back up, okay?”

“It’s a deal.” She smiled and he walked away with a flip of his fingers that she translated as a wave.

Her room door opened at her approach. Lights glowed on as she stepped over the threshold and the scent of the lilies almost made her dizzy.
You have an urgent message
, the room told her in a gentle female voice.
Would you like to hear it?

“Yes!”

Ms. Huang, my greetings! I’m Laif Jones-Egret, the Administrator for NYUp. I’m honored to have a premier member of the Taiwan Families as a visitor to the platform, and I’d like to extend an invitation to you for dinner. If you have no plans, I’d be honored by your attendance toonight at 700 hours. If you’d like me to call for you, fust say ‘yes’. I hope you can make it!

Intrigue or protocol? Ahni tossed her bag full of spider silk dress up onto the bed. ‘Yes,’ she said clearly.

Two hours to prepare. Plenty of time.

Wonderful!His recorded answer sounded almost real.
You’ll find a cart and driver at your door at
700 hours on the nose!
And with that quaint turn of phrase the message ended.

Something had certainly started happening up here in the week that she had been away. Her hindbrain tickled her with the suggesstion that it involved Xai.

Proof?

None. She needed to talk to Dane. Ahni explored the bathroom. It was adequate–shower stall, double sink, mirrors, dryer vents. The wall dispenser in the shower offered her usual shampoo and conditioner, the brand to be found in her personal file along with the toothpaste she preferred, the type of breakfast she favored, and her favorite colors. Sometimes she thought that a hotel database held more personal information than a Council Security Force snoop file. She turned the shower on full and hot, the six sprays swiveling to evenly bombard her body with water.

It felt … strange in slightly diminished gravity. Water didn’t behave normally. But the heat and steam relaxed her and she deecided to find a bathhouse where she could pay for a good long soak tomorrow.

She found the refreshment wall stocked with her preferred brands of tea and ordered a pot. The pale liquor soothed her as she took her time dressing. First impressions had value. From the tone of the message, she guessed that this Administrator was waiting to be impressed. She would not disappoint him, she thought as she put on the spider silk evening pants and top, then donned a lacy cap of silver beadwork hung with strings of pale jade that drew attenntion to her fine-boned face and slender neck.

She finished a careful job of makeup just before 700, and not five minutes later, the room voice spoke to her.
Ms. Huang, a private car is waiting for you. Would you like to reply?

“I’ll be right there,” she said, slipped on a pair of real-leather sandals and left the room.

One of the little electric cars she had noticed in the corridors waited outside the gate to the inner courtyard. A small, native-boned woman with an unselect-hispanic face sat at the controls. She smiled at Ahni, nodded approval. “You look great.” She patted the twin facing seats behind her perch. “It’s all yours tonight, help yourself. I’m Doria.”

“Ahni.” She seated herself facing forward, relieved at the friendly greeting. “So where are we going?” she asked lightly as the car surged forward with a subdued whine from it’s electric motor. “The governor’s mansion?”

The woman clearly didn’t get that reference

“To the Administrator’s official residence?” Ahni amended. “Sort of.” Doria grinned, weaving the little cart through the increasingly crowded corridor with deft precision. “It’s sort of the official hall. Sometimes guests have dinner there, sometimes we have work parties there.” Her grin widened. “Sometimes we just party there. Like on Christmas and New Year’s, and E Day. That’s Elevator Day, the day the first climber hit the platform. That really was the start of the orbitals as a place to live I guess. That was a long time ago. I think my grandmother was a little girl then, or maybe not even born yet.” She shrugged and cranked the little cart around a tourist group spread out across the corridor, kids darting about, moms hurrying belatedly after them. Doria shook her head, irritaation tarnishing her bright mood. “They just don’t get it – that we have to go places, that this corridor isn’t just for them.”

Doria guided the little cart into a doorway large enough to addmit it. The double doors whisked sideways, revealing a tiled atrium decorated with rocks and water. Perhaps ten people stood around the tiny, splashing fountain, drinks in hand, the air already thick with cocktail hour levity veneered over purpose.

“Ah, Ms. Huang.” A very tall man with a mixed afro-amerind face separated himself from a pair of women and strode to meet her, light fiber tracery glowing on his scalp, a huge emerald glitterring in one ear. “I’m so pleased that you accepted my invitation.”

“I would hardly say no.” Ahni took his hand–like a downsider would–and let him help her climb out of the cart. He was
big
. She had seen his image on the media, but there had been no point of reference to prepare her for someone that tall. Tall, big … he didn’t seem to fit up here. She looked up … up …

met dark twinkling eyes, and an easy smile that did an excellent job of masking his very intent focus and an edge of tension. Uh oh. The name
Huang
meant something. “Do you invite all new visitors to dinner?

How very welcoming.”

“Oh, he rarely invites us downsiders to much of anything.” A small, stocky woman with spiked purple hair and out of fashion cheek and eyebrow art sashayed up with a half -empty drink in her hand. “I haven’t been able to pry the real reason for this red carpet unrolling out of him. Why don’t we join forces?” She looked Ahni up and down, her lust like the moist lick of a tongue on Ahni’s skin. “I think he’s gathering the faithful in the face of the oncoming storm.”

She was drunk:. “What storm is that,” Ahni asked politely.

“What can I get you to drink? Wine, liquor, one of the euphorics?” The Administrator steered her away from Spike Hair. “The bar is well stocked. We have juices, too, if you’d prefer. Fresh.”

“I’d like to try one of the local beers.” She had done her homwork. “I’ll try your local brandy another time, thank you.”

“Light? Dark?” One eyebrow rose. “We have a nice IPA.”

“I’ll have the IPA, please.” She accepted the wide glass he handed her and tasted the beer, hiding her attention in that small ritual of sipping, considering, and praise.

The younger woman – geneselected Hindi with the muscles an grace of a dancer–looked bored. She was clearly Spike Hair’s lover. Four other guests arrived and the Administrator greeted them easily and made introductions. Ahni filed the names in short term memory. Santos, the Argentinian businessman looked vaguely familiar. He had his young, decorative wife in tow, a platinum haired geneselect Scandinavian type. The other couple, both amer-mix men in their early thirties, seemed to be business partners rather than bed mates.