Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet Read online

  “Yes, I did. Please believe me.”

  “Then I will sing another song.”

  Before he could protest again, she had turned off her translator and a new melody permeated the room. Gold closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the couch, and found himself humming along with her.

  “That was very lovely,” he said when she had concluded.

  “You are very easy to please,” she replied, activating the translator.

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared unblinking at her. “How easy?” he said softly.

  She looked at his flushed face and rigid body, and suddenly a smile of comprehension crossed her face.

  “Very easy.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  She walked over and stood directly in front of him, her posture one of open invitation.

  “Because my job is pleasing people.”

  Gold's hands began shaking again.

  “How can you look so innocent and be so wanton?” he whispered.

  “How innocent do I look?” she asked, her alien eyes wide with mock curiosity.

  “Like a little girl.”

  “Would you like me to be your little girl?” she asked. “To reward when I'm good and punish when I'm bad?”

  He tried to answer, but all that came out was an unintelligible concoction of sound.

  “Can I call you Daddy?” she continued.

  “Don't do this,” he whispered.

  “Don't do what, Daddy?” she asked, amused by his obvious torment.

  “Don't flaunt yourself before me,” he said. “I'm a moral, God-fearing man!”

  “Then you'll have to punish me,” she said, grinning.

  “Would you like to put me over your knee?”

  “Yes,” he breathed, then jumped to his feet. “No!” he shouted. “I'm Thomas Gold, and I cannot be led astray!”

  “Then can't I be your little girl anymore?” she asked with mock regret.

  “Don't toy with me like this!” he pleaded. “You're just a child! You can't know what you're doing!” He stopped in mid-tirade and stared, wild-eyed, at her.

  “God, but you're beautiful!” he whispered. He looked at her silver, feathery hair. “What does it feel like?” he asked.

  He reached out to her, and felt an even stronger sensation than that which he had experienced earlier in the cargo area. “You look so very innocent!” he whispered, stroking her hair and neck.

  “There's not an awful lot that she's innocent of,” said a sardonic voice from behind him.

  Startled, he whirled around and found himself facing the Steel Butterfly.

  “How long have you been there?” he demanded.

  “I just came in.”

  He stared at her, momentarily disoriented.

  “I —” He stopped, looked at the grinning Titania, then back at the madam. “I only...” He began stammering, and his voice trailed off.

  “Titania, you can leave us now,” said the Steel Butterfly.

  The little faerie skipped across the room and out the door while Gold watched her, blinking furiously and struggling for composure.

  “She tried to —” he began, then stopped again and stared at his hands, as if they were alien things that belonged to someone else. Finally he looked up at the Steel Butterfly. “All I did was touch her hair, I swear it!”

  “I believe you.”

  “I was just curious as to how it felt,” he continued, feeling like a fool but unable to make himself stop talking. “It's not like human hair, you know. Its texture is, well, different, and I wanted to touch it and see what it felt like, to see if it was more feathery or hairy, to the touch I mean. So I got up and I walked over and I reached out and I touched it. That's all I did. I'm Thomas Gold, and I would never do anything else, anything more. I just touched her hair, just that, I swear to God!”

  “Maybe you'd better take a minute to compose yourself, Doctor Gold,” said the Steel Butterfly, walking to the bar and starting to mix herself a drink.

  “I am composed,” he said unsteadily.

  “Perhaps not as much as you think,” she replied without looking up.

  He took a step toward her, felt a mild sense of discomfort, and suddenly became aware that he had an erection that was clearly visible beneath his trousers.

  He immediately sat down on the nearest chair.

  “Don't look so distressed, Doctor Gold,” said the Steel Butterfly, not without a trace of sympathy. “You're not exactly unique.”

  “I don't know what you mean.”

  “I mean that the business of a brothel is human frailty.”

  “I didn't molest her!” he protested.

  “I know you didn't. If you had tried, Security would have been here on the double. There are three very well-camouflaged holo cameras in the office.”

  “Oh my God!” he breathed. “Do you mean that everything that happened here is on a holo disk somewhere?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “What right did you have to spy on me?” he demanded hotly.

  “You're in my office, Doctor Gold,” she replied. “I'd hardly consider it spying.”

  “You purposely stayed away while she flaunted herself at me!” he raged. “You set me up for this!”

  The Steel Butterfly shook her head. “I did no such thing, Doctor Gold.”

  “Then why weren't you here to meet me when I got to the office?” he demanded.

  “I was busy,” she replied. “And I hardly expected to see you twice in one day,” she added reasonably.

  “Where's Constantine? This was his idea!”

  “He's on Deluros VIII, I imagine,” answered the Steel Butterfly.

  “No!” yelled Gold. “He's here!”

  “We're expecting him tomorrow, but I can attest to the fact that he's not aboard the Comet at this moment.”

  “Lies! All lies!”

  “It's the truth.”

  “But he must be here!” persisted Gold, his voice suddenly confused and almost whining. “That's why I came—to see him.”

  “I think we both know why you came, Doctor Gold,” she said gently.

  “I only touched her hair!”

  “What else would you have touched if I hadn't entered the room when I did?”

  A look of utter panic flashed across his tortured face. “What do you intend to do with those holo disks?”

  “I haven't thought about it,” she replied.

  “You mustn't show them to anyone!”

  “Just a minute, Doctor Gold.” She turned toward her tabletop computer terminal. “Cupid?”

  “Yes?” said the computer's electronic voice.

  “Put everything from the time Doctor Gold entered the office until he leaves into my Personal file.”

  She turned back to Gold. “No one will be allowed access to what we say unless I order Cupid to release it.” She paused. “You have certain disks of ours. Perhaps we could arrange a trade.”

  “Then I was right! This whole thing was your idea!”

  “No, Doctor Gold. I didn't even know you were coming here. This whole thing was your idea!”

  “How do I know you won't make copies first?”

  She smiled. “How do I know you won't?”

  He stared sullenly at her. “I won't part with them.”

  “Even in exchange for the record of what happened in here?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “I'm sure you do.”

  He stared at her, apprehension replacing outrage on his pale face.

  “What happens now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, nothing? Are you blackmailing me or aren't you?”

  “Blackmail is an ugly word, Doctor Gold,” said the Steel Butterfly. “I'm trying to effect a trade with you.”

  “I won't part with the Delvania disks!” he declared passionately.

  “You absolutely insist on keeping them?”

  “Yes!�
�� he shouted, his eyes blazing in half-crazed defiance.

  “You're the leader of more than two million Jesus Pures,” she said pointedly. “Have you thought the consequences if they should see this disk?”

  “If that disk is ever released, I'll come back here and kill you with my own hands!”

  She sighed. “You realize, of course, that your threat is now a matter of record?”

  He looked confused. “But you told the computer ... I thought you said that —”

  “I said that no one could access this disk without my permission. That's valid only as long as I'm alive. Two minutes after you killed me Attila would be going through every disk in my Personal file, looking for a likely motive.”

  He began pacing the floor distractedly. “I'm sorry,” he muttered. “I'm sorry. I said that in the heat of the moment. I couldn't kill anyone.”

  “I believe you.”

  “But I can't let my son see that disk!”

  “And you won't trade the Delvanian disks to me?”

  “I can't!”

  She finished her drink and placed the empty glass on the bar.

  “All right, Doctor Gold,” she said. “My only concern is the Velvet Comet. The rest of Vainmill can go straight to hell for all I care.” She paused. “If you'll promise not to mention the Comet or the faeries again in your broadcasts, I'll promise not to release the disk. You can go right on attacking Fiona Bradley and Vainmill to your heart's content, as long as you leave the Comet alone. Have we got a deal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I guess that concludes our business,” she said. “Do you need a few minutes before you leave?”

  Suddenly exhausted, he nodded his head. “Thank you,” he said wearily.

  “You're welcome, Doctor Gold.”

  He spent a couple of minutes in silence, trying to control his alternating feelings of lust and shame, then got to his feet and followed her to the door.

  She pointed to a nearby elevator.

  “That leads to the service area. You're welcome to take it, if you'd like to get back to your ship without being seen.”

  “I think it would be best,” said Gold. He turned to her, a puzzled expression on his face. “You're sure Richard Constantine isn't aboard the Comet?”

  “You never really thought he was, did you?” she replied.

  Thirty minutes later, as he sat in exquisite misery on the planet-bound ship, he still didn't know the answer to the Steel Butterfly's final question. Then the exertions of the long day caught up with him, and he nodded off to sleep.

  The imp was waiting for him, as usual.

  “Hi, Daddy,” he said, and suddenly metamorphosed into a faerie in a translucent gown. “Did you bring me a present?”

  “Yes, I did,” said Gold. “But first you must close your eyes.”

  The faerie closed her eyes, her face a mask of happy anticipation, as Gold began slipping off his clothing.

  “All right,” he said after a moment. “You can look now.”

  “Oh, Daddy!” she crooned happily, her words a series of tinkling chimes.

  Chapter 11

  “Attila wishes to speak to you on Channel K,” announced Cupid.

  “All right,” said the Steel Butterfly. “Put him through.”

  The Security chief ‘s holograph flickered into existence and took on shape and form. “Got a minute to answer a couple of questions?” he asked her.

  “For you? Always,” she said pleasantly.

  “Okay. First of all, what the hell is a Personal file?”

  “Ah!” She smiled. “You've reviewed the disk.”

  “Didn't anyone ever tell you that if you want to maintain confidentiality you use a Priority file coded to your Vainmill Employee Number?”

  “Of course,” answered the Steel Butterfly. “But nobody ever told that to Doctor Gold.”

  “Then you just wanted him to think that Security couldn't access the disk?”

  “Certainly,” she said, amused. “You're slow today, Attila.”

  “I guess I must be,” he admitted. “This Personal file bullshit took me by surprise.”

  “You mentioned that you had two questions. What was the other?”

  Attila's image stared directly at her for a moment, deadly serious.

  “Who gave you the right to make a private treaty with Gold?” he said at last.

  “You're referring to my promise never to make use of the disk, of course?” said the Steel Butterfly.

  “Your promise,” he said emphatically. “Not mine.”

  He paused. “This disk is what we've been waiting for. We've finally got something that'll turn this man into a laughingstock, and you didn't even get him to turn over the Delvania footage for it.”

  “He'll never use what he got from Delvania,” she said confidently.

  “Maybe so, maybe not.”

  “I guarantee it.”

  “Even if you're right, that doesn't mean that someone else in his organization won't use it. For starters, he's supposed to have a son who's even more of a fanatic than he is.”

  “He'll never show it to his son.”

  What makes you so sure?” persisted Attila.

  “Because understanding sexual obsession is my business,” replied the Steel Butterfly.

  “Well, protecting the Comet is mine,” answered Attila. “I'm going to have to turn that disk over to Constantine.'’

  “You're a fool,” she said. “Thomas Gold is no threat to anyone except Thomas Gold.”

  “That sounds impressive, but it doesn't mean shit if you're wrong. What if he attacks us again? After all, a fanatic doesn't have to honor his word.”

  “What if he does attack us again? He's been doing it for months, and what good has it done him?”

  “Are you saying that you expect him to break his bargain?”

  “It's a possibility.”

  “And yet you don't consider him a danger to us?” he demanded incredulously.

  “Let me put it another way,” she said. “Where does your loyalty lie—to the Comet or to the Vainmill Syndicate?”

  “They're the same thing.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “They're not. Vainmill was all set to shut us down before Fiona Bradley took over. We're just a tiny cog in one of their many machines.”

  “What are you getting at?” asked Attila, staring at her intently.

  “I'm trying to tell you that Richard Constantine is a far greater threat to the Velvet Comet than that poor, guilt-ridden religious fanatic ever will be.”

  “Constantine?” said Attila with a sarcastic laugh. “Who the hell do you think has been fighting Gold for us?”

  “Only because it's a good career move at this point in time,” responded the Steel Butterfly. “It's his first assignment in Fiona Bradley's administration, and he wants to impress her. He'll have no compunction about cutting us loose the moment we become bothersome to him. He's so ambitious he makes Cassius look fat and full.”

  “Even if you're right, that's all the more reason to get rid of Gold by using that disk.”

  She shook her head again. “In his current mental and emotional state, he's the least effective foe we could have. Find some way to discredit him, and whoever replaces him will be far more formidable.”

  “Let me get this straight,” said Attila. “You're telling me that you want Gold attacking us precisely because this obsession he's got for the faerie is driving him off the deep end?”

  “That's right.” She paused. “There are lots of jobs for Security men—but once you've been the madam of the Velvet Comet, no other position is acceptable. I intend to do whatever it takes to make sure that my job doesn't disappear out from under me.”

  He stared at her and sighed heavily. “And I thought I was a cold son of a bitch!”

  She smiled patronizingly at him. “You're young yet. I still have hopes for you.”

  Chapter 12

  Gold looked up from his computer when he heard Simon knockin
g at the door.

  “Yes?”

  “They're here,” said Simon.

  “I'll be right out,” said Gold, deactivating the computer.

  He stood up, took a few steps toward the door, and then hesitated.

  “Simon?”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “I'm just finishing up some notes for one of my sermons. Tell them I'll be out in five minutes.”

  “All right.”

  Gold returned to the computer.

  “Activate,” he said.

  The computer hummed to life.

  “Bring up the last image.”

  A holograph of two nude female faeries, locked in a lesbian embrace, appeared directly above the computer.

  He studied the image, his head beginning to throb again.

  “Action.”

  The frozen faeries came to life, kissing and caressing one another under the direction of an offstage tutor.

  “Deactivate in four minutes,” said Gold, leaning forward and staring unblinking at the holograph.

  The faeries rolled across their enormous bed, changing positions frequently, their actions more frenzied—and suddenly the computer shut down. “What happened?” demanded Gold.

  FOUR MINUTES HAVE ELAPSED.

  Gold read the printed response and shook his head vigorously.

  “It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds!”

  I HAVE JUST RECHECKED MY FUNCTIONS. THERE HAS BEEN NO ERROR.

  “There must have been!”

  I HAVE CHECKED MY FUNCTIONS YET AGAIN, AND THEY ARE ALL WORKING PROPERLY.

  Gold took his timepiece from his wrist and laid it down next to the computer.

  “Show me the same footage again,” he ordered.

  The two faeries reappeared, passionately stroking and kissing each other precisely as they had done before.

  Gold watched them intently, and even after the computer had deactivated he continued to stare at the empty space where they had appeared. As reality slowly impinged upon him, he sighed and leaned back on his chair, feeling mildly uncomfortable as the knotted muscles in his arms and legs began relaxing.

  Suddenly he leaned forward and checked his timepiece.

  Seven minutes had elapsed.

  “Damn!” he muttered. “Activate.”

  The computer came to life once more.

  “Run it again.”