House of Shards by Walter Jon Williams Page B

show the view transmitted by media globes, in Gregor’s case the superimposed view of two corridors, each broadcast by one of a pair of micromedia globes, which were acting as lookout. Taking a final glance to make sure he wouldn’t be observed, Gregor took a tool from his pocket, inserted it in the wall, and swung an access panel out on its hinges. He stepped into the utility space, strolled as far as the door to the next suite, and then strolled back. He checked his spectacles again—no one present—and stepped out. He pushed the wall back into its place.
    He walked twenty paces to an elevator and pressed the button. While he waited he took a hi-stick from his pocket and put it in his mouth.
    He was going to the ball.
    *
    “Pearl Woman!” Delight shone from Kotani's features. He sniffed her ears and offered her three fingers.
    “Marquess,” said the Pearl.
    “You look wonderful. I was given to understand you were ill.”
    “A brief indisposition. I am entirely recovered.” Pearl Woman was flushed and laughing, dressed in an embroidered silk gown. A bandanna was wrapped around her leonine hair, its loose ends dangling above the trademark earring. She was truly radiant, the source of her radiance being relief. Her clothing had been thrown on at the last minute, but fortunately she had the sort of looks which were improved by a slight dishevelment. She'd been standing over a jeweler for most of the last two hours, badgering him while he reassembled the earring. It was now one link shorter, but no one could be expected to detect such an insignificant change.
    Pearl Woman glanced over the ballroom.” Is Advert here?”
    “Speaking to Janetha. There.”
    “Ah. You'll excuse me, Marquess?”
    “Of course, Pearl.”
    “Your servant.”
    “Yours.”
    Drake Maijstral stepped into one of the private salons off the main ballroom. Gregor, a few moments later, followed, the hi-stick still in his mouth. An opaque privacy screen flickered into existence behind them.
    A minute or so later, Gregor and his hi-stick were observed to leave.
    *
    Roman stepped around a corner and saw a group of tired, dispirited security guards led by the gangling figure of Kingston. Kingston, he saw, seemed to have forsaken his jester mode. Roman stepped back out of sight, waited until they'd gone on their way, then stepped into the corridor again.
    A Cygnus robot passed by, carrying a tray with an empty wine bottle and empty glasses.
    Roman glanced right and left, saw no one, took a tool from his pocket, and opened the wall. He closed the wall behind him, took a short stroll, opened the wall at another access point, and stepped into the corridor.
    There was no one to see him.
    *
    Paavo Kuusinen, who had just noticed Gregor leave the ballroom, looked to his right and observed Fu George sliding out by another door. Smiling, he drifted toward the buffet and picked up a glass of rink.
    Sipping, he perceived Kyoko Asperson, dressed in green and purple and with her loupe missing from over her eye, leaving by the same door as had Gregor. He looked up and saw her media globes still circling the assembly. Carefully, he counted them. There were six. He frowned. Then he began to smile.
    *
    “Advert. Marchioness.” Sniffing.
    “Pearl Woman.”
    “Pearl!” Advert was delighted. “You look splendid!”
    “Thank you, Advert. Enthusiasm becomes you, as always.” She glanced at the Marchioness. “My lady, if you would excuse us? There was a small confusion regarding our bags, and I need to speak with Advert and sort things out.”
    “Certainly.” Sniffs. “Your very obedient.”
    “And yours.”
    Pearl Woman took Advert's arm and pulled her aside, facing the wall. Advert wasn’t practiced at speaking without moving her lips, and some important things needed to be said.
    “Where were you when I got back from dinner?” Advert asked. “I dressed and you weren’t there at all.”
    “I was hunting a jeweler.”
    “I wanted to tell you