Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet Page 18

  “Attention, Shuttle Delta,” he announced. “Dock H is committed to Shuttle Epsilon. Please enter a holding pattern until we can confirm a dock for you.” He paused long enough to light up a small, thin Alphard cigar and count silently to one hundred.

  “Shuttle Delta, you have been cleared for Dock C.”

  It took the shuttle about eight minutes to dock during which time Attila determined that there were seventeen passengers aboard it. A moment later they began entering the airlock, and he passed them through as quickly as possible.

  Finally, when sixteen patrons had cleared the airlock and entered the Mall, he excused all but one burly guard from airlock duty and signaled the pilot to release Gold.

  “I'm terribly sorry, sir,” said an attendant who entered the airlock with the minister. “Our scanner must be malfunctioning. But I assure you that it did register a hand weapon.”

  “It's all right,” muttered Gold.

  “If you wish to file an official complaint, my name is —”

  “It's all right, I said!” snapped Gold.

  He turned away from the attendant and faced Attila, who couldn't believe his eyes.

  Gold's formerly pale cheeks and forehead was covered with unevenly applied makeup, and his hairline was almost two inches higher, with day old stubble showing where he had shaved it. He had dyed his sideburns black, but the job was sloppy one, and some of the color had smeared onto his right ear. It would have been laughable, decided the Security chief, were it not so pathetic.

  “We meet again, Doctor Gold,” said Attila, unable to keep from staring at the minister's face.

  “There must be some mistake,” said Gold. “My name is James Westerman.”

  “You're Thomas Gold.”

  Gold pulled out an identification card. “You are in error, as you can plainly see. I am James Westerman, Jr., and you are detaining me illegally.”

  “Do any members of your church know you're up here?” asked Attila.

  “I have no church!” snapped Gold. “I am a businessman from the Zeta Piscium system, and you are an insolent hireling! Now let me pass!”

  Attila shook his head. “Not a chance, Doctor Gold. But if you'll reenter Shuttle Delta and wait for it to depart, I won't let anyone know you were up here.”

  “No!” bellowed Gold. “I am a patron! You can't keep me off the Comet!”

  “I'm the Chief of Security,” said Attila calmly. “I can refuse entrance to anyone who in my opinion will be a disruptive influence.”

  Gold seemed disoriented for a moment, then dug a hand into his pocket and withdrew a huge sheaf of thousand-credit notes. “But I can pay!” he said, his voice suddenly desperate and whining. “I have money! Isn't that all you care about?” He waved the notes in Attila's face. “Don't you understand? I can pay!”

  “Where did you get all that money?” asked Attila.

  Gold's eyes narrowed. “I told you—I'm a businessman.”

  “You're a minister, and you've lived in poverty for years,” said Attila. “What did you do—rob your church?”

  “Take it!” pleaded Gold, pushing the wad of notes up against Attila's chest and releasing it. Tears came to his eyes. “Take it! Keep some of it for yourself, I don't care—but for God's sake, let me pass!”

  “Guard,” said Attila, nodding to the burly greenclad man who had been watching Gold with horrified fascination.

  “Doctor Gold is going to be leaving us now. Please escort him back onto Shuttle Delta.”

  “No!” screamed Gold. “I've got to ... just once ... before ... I beg of you!”

  “Come along, sir,” said the guard, taking Gold by the arm.

  Gold pulled loose and raced up to Attila, his long, emaciated fingers clutching at the Security chief's tunic.

  “I'll give you whatever you want!” he hissed, his eyes bright and wild. “You want more money? I'll get it! Whatever you want—but you can't keep me away from them!”

  “Please come with me, sir,” said the guard, walking over and taking a firmer grip on him.

  “You can't do this to me!” raged Gold. “I'm a businessman from—from...” His voice trailed off as he tried to remember which world he was supposed to have come from.

  The guard tried to pull him away, and Gold threw himself to the ground and began screaming incoherently.

  “Attila?” said the guard, looking questioningly at the Security chief.

  “We can't send him back like this,” said Attila as he watched Gold writhing and moaning on the floor, begging for entrance to the Comet. He sighed. “Let's get him to the hospital and inform his church of his whereabouts.”

  Attila lifted Gold to his feet, and he and the guard half-dragged, half-carried him into the bright interior of the Velvet Comet, where the Security chief ordered a nearby subordinate to restaff the airlock.

  Gold stopped struggling when they were halfway across the Mall. Suddenly his eyes became clear and his demeanor calm.

  “Can you walk now, Doctor Gold?” asked Attila, tentatively loosening his grip on Gold's shoulder.

  Gold nodded, then looked at his surroundings.

  “This is wrong,” he announced, puzzled.

  “What is, Doctor Gold?”

  “Everything,” he said. “It always starts with the imp, and then the black unicorn.”

  “Perhaps they're waiting for you in the hospital,” suggested Attila.

  Gold considered the statement, then nodded his head tentatively. “Perhaps,” he agreed. His face lit up with delight. “And if they are, then so are the faeries!”

  “I wouldn't be a bit surprised,” said Attila soothingly.

  “Then let's hurry!” said Gold. “I can't keep them waiting any longer!”

  “Why don't you run ahead and make sure they're waiting?” said Attila to the guard.

  The man nodded and raced off to alert the medical staff, while Thomas Gold, his face glowing with childlike enthusiasm, his words a torrent of innocent dreams and sinister fantasies, followed Attila.

  Chapter 17

  The Steel Butterfly frowned at Attila's image.

  “Another one?” she repeated.

  The Security chief nodded. “With a very ingenious plastic weapon. The scanner didn't recognize it at first.” He paused. “She came closer to getting through than any of the others. We haven't put her under hypnosis yet, but I think it's safe to assume that you were her primary target.”

  “Me? Why not you?”

  “Because if she was here to kill me, she could have done it right there in the airlock.”

  “I told you we weren't going to be happy with whoever replaced Thomas Gold,” said the Steel Butterfly, sipping her drink. “How many does that make now?”

  “Four this week, and seven in the two months since they locked Gold away,” replied Attila.

  “What's the matter with them anyway?” she demanded. “I thought Jesus Pures were supposed to be against violence!”

  “My own opinion is that the son is crazier than the father,” answered the Security chief. “Did you hear him last night?”

  She shook her head. “Why bother? It's the same drivel he's been spouting for the past six weeks.”

  “Not quite,” said Attila. “It's actually getting more vehement. Cupid?”

  “Yes, Attila?” said the computer.

  “Play the last couple of minutes of Simon Gold's most recent broadcast for the Steel Butterfly.”

  Instantly Attila's holograph vanished, to be replaced by the fierce, unsmiling visage of Simon Gold.

  “If thy hand offend thee, cut it off!” he intoned, staring righteously into the camera. “What does this mean? Simply that there are certain objects that are beyond salvation. They are past all hope of redemption, and must be forcibly removed from the affairs of Men. The Velvet Comet is such an object.”

  He looked out at his audience.

  “It destroyed my father,” he said fiercely. “And if it can destroy Thomas Gold, it can destroy anyone!” He pa
used for that thought to sink in. “The Velvet Comet is a blight upon the galaxy, and an offense to all moral men and women. What does the Bible tell us to do?”

  He smiled with grim satisfaction as hundreds of voices from his audience told him exactly what action to take. “He who loves his God the best will be he who puts an end to that wicked, sinful ship!”

  The roar of approval from the audience was deafening—and then the holograph blinked out of existence, to be replaced by Attila's image. “Some prayer meeting, eh?” he said grimly.

  “Can't we have him arrested?” asked the Steel Butterfly. “He's actually exhorting them to come up here and kill us!”

  Attila shook his head. “I already spoke to Vainmill's legal department. All he actually said was that he wanted to see the Comet put out of business. The implication was clear—but it's still just an implication. I mean, hell, there are probably a hundred other ways to shut us down. He can always claim that he was referring to one of them.”

  “Can't we slap an injunction on him anyway—something to keep him off the air?”

  “Probably—but Vainmill won't do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “For the same reason they wouldn't do it to his father. They don't want to make a martyr out of him.”

  “But Thomas Gold only threatened economic boycotts; his son is threatening us with violence.”

  Attila grimaced. “Why don't you ask Fiona Bradley which she prefers—violence against us, or an economic boycott directed against Vainmill?”

  “Maybe you and I can arrange a private meeting with Simon Gold,” she suggested.

  “I doubt it—and he's not Simon Gold anymore. As of yesterday, his name, title, call it what you will, is Simon the Eradicator.”

  “Why is he carrying on like this?” she asked in frustration. “It's not our fault that his father became obsessed with the faeries and went crazy!”

  “He's got to blame someone,” said Attila. “And along with having to lock Gold away, I gather his mother had a series of strokes about a month ago. She's been in an intensive-care unit ever since.”

  “Maybe someone ought to tell him that killing us and closing down the Comet isn't going to solve either of those problems,” said the Steel Butterfly.

  “I'd settle for his remembering that he's supposed to be against violence,” replied Attila. “That woman today came very close to passing through the airlock.”

  “Well, what do you propose to do about these fanatics?” demanded the Steel Butterfly. “Pretty soon one of them will get through.”

  “I've been giving it some serious thought,” admitted Attila.

  “And?”

  “And I think we should put a ban on day-trippers—at least until Simon calms down.”

  “What will banning the day-trippers accomplish?”

  “Most of them are just shoppers,” answered Attila. “They spend all their time in the Mall and never enter the brothel.” He paused. “Our security is much better within the brothel than outside it. We've got cameras positioned in every room and scanners all the hell over the place. But the Mall is a different matter: it's almost two miles long and it's got five hundred and sixty-two stores and boutiques in it.”

  “I know all this,” she said impatiently. “Get to the point.”

  “The point is simply this: no one is going to smuggle a weapon into the brothel, not even a pocket knife. But after today's experience, I'm not convinced that they can't smuggle parts of a weapon, especially a plastic one, into the Mall. They can hide the parts in secret locations inside stores, and eventually someone who knows how to assemble and use it will come up here and do just that. He won't have to enter the brothel; he can just stand in the Mall and start blowing away the patrons. The effect will be the same: we can't stay in business if we can't protect our clientele.”

  “Have you spoken to Constantine about this?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

  “I thought I'd better talk to you first,” said Attila. “For one thing, I don't think the shops are going to be very happy about it, and if I don't have your complete support Constantine will never buy it.”

  “True,” she said, lowering her head in thought. Finally she looked up at his image. “How long would you enforce the ban?”

  “That depends upon our friend Simon the Eradicator. I'd certainly keep it in force as long as he keeps telling his people that God will love them even more if they destroy us.”

  “What if he keeps it up for a year?” she asked.

  “Then we won't allow day-trippers for a year,” he replied. He paused. “Look, if some divinely inspired Jesus Pure comes up here and wipes out three hundred patrons in the Mall, we're not going to have to worry about the shopkeepers anyway. We'll be out of business ten minutes later.”

  She sighed. “All right. Let's get hold of Constantine and see if we can persuade him to sanction it.”

  She placed three calls before she even got through to his personal secretary, and she was then informed that he would contact her an hour later, when he got out of a meeting with Fiona Bradley. The call came through exactly as scheduled, and Attila was immediately patched into it.

  “This had better be important,” said Constantine, obviously annoyed at having his schedule disrupted. “I'm due at another meeting in five minutes.”

  “I think it is,” said the Steel Butterfly. “Have you heard Simon Gold lately?”

  Constantine smiled. “Simon the Eradicator? Don't worry about him. He's just out for publicity.”

  “He damned near got it,” she said. “We caught an armed Jesus Pure trying to get onto the Comet today. It was the seventh in two months.”

  “There are madmen in every religion. I think Tom Gold proved that.”

  “I don't think you realize the gravity of the situation,” interjected Attila.

  Constantine checked his timepiece, and frowned. “All right. You tell me—and try to be brief.”

  The Security chief explained how the plastic weapon had escaped Cupid's preliminary inspection, outlined the methodology for smuggling a disassembled weapon into one of the Mall's stores, and offered his solution.

  “Out of the question,” said Constantine when Attila had finished. “The shops would consider it a breach of contract, and they'd be right. Ninety percent of them would move out within a month.”

  “How many of them will move out if a gunman actually gets into the Mall?” replied Attila.

  “It's your job to see to it that such an eventuality doesn't come to pass.”

  “Won't you at least consider it?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

  “Don't be ridiculous,” answered Constantine. “The Velvet Comet exists to make money. Once it stops turning a profit, we won't need Simon Gold's urging to shut it down.”

  “It will make a profit with or without the stores,” she persisted. “And this is only a temporary measure—just until he stops encouraging his followers to attack us.”

  “And what if he never stops?” demanded Constantine. “Or let's put the best possible face on it: what if he drops dead next month and the Jesus Pure disband? How am I going to convince any merchant to rent a store in the Mall if he knows that I'll shut him down at the first sign of trouble?” He paused. “Look—I appreciate your concern, but the two of you are taking an extremely narrow view of the situation. The stores stay open.”

  “That's your final word?” asked Attila.

  “It is.”

  “Will you at least discuss it with Fiona Bradley?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

  “If Fiona Bradley wanted to deal with the day-in, day-out problems of the Entertainment and Leisure Divisors, she wouldn't have put me in charge of it,” said Constantine, his tone increasingly irritated. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend.”

  He broke the connection.

  “Well, we tried,” said the Steel Butterfly.

  “Should we make an attempt to get through to Fiona Bradley ourselves?” asked Attila.

  S
he shook her head. “We'd be usurping Constantine's authority. I think he'd fire us just for that.” She sighed. “I guess we'll just have to hope that Cupid will be able to keep spotting potential mass murderers.”

  “Or that Simon Gold will tone down his attacks,” added Attila. “Who would have thought he would publicly admit that Gold went crazy over the faeries? It takes away the one weapon I was sure we'd be able to use against Gold's successor.”

  “You mean the disk of the scene in my office?”

  He nodded. “It's totally worthless now.”

  “Except as a weapon against us,” she said ironically.

  “If anyone should ever come across it, Constantine will realize that we lied to him.”

  “It's pretty well hidden,” he assured her. “We'll both be retired before anyone finds it.”

  “Cupid!” she said sharply.

  “Yes, madam?” said the computer.

  “Put this conversation in my Priority file, retroactive to the moment when Richard Constantine broke contact with us.”

  “Done,” announced the computer instantly.

  She looked at Attila. “We'd better not mention that disk again. All anyone has to do is hear us speak about it and they'll know it exists—and once they know what they're looking for, they'll find it.”

  “I agree.” A light flashed on his desk. “Another problem at the airlock,” he announced. “What is it, Cupid?”

  “I have scanned patron Marianna Vittore of Pollux IV and discovered a subclinical venereal disease. She is being discreetly escorted to the hospital for treatment, and should be able to proceed to the brothel in approximately twenty minutes.”

  Attila relaxed. “Thank God for small favors. Every time I see that damned light, I think another Jesus Pure is trying to sneak in.”

  “Well, I guess all we can do is keep spotting them and sending them back,” sighed the Steel Butterfly. “Who knows? Maybe they'll get tired of it before we do.”

  “Somehow I don't think that's too likely,” replied Attila.

  “Neither do I,” she agreed. “Well, I suppose we'd better get back to work.”

  “I guess so,” he said wearily, reaching out to break the connection.