“Let’s see.” Plastic lenses scanned the humaniform body. “You’re an L2450 Office Monitor Unit, aren’t you?”
“That is correct.”
“I thought so. It’s been said that the L2450 was the best-looking humaniform to come off the rack in years. Outstanding design and cosmetic appeal. I didn’t know whether or not to believe the rumors until now.”
“I am not programmed to respond to flattery that originates with another mechanical.” The humaniform’s tone was uncertain.
“Most lifelike externals in the history of the line. Now that I can see for myself, I’d have to say it’s more than that. You’re a fine example of contemporary craftsmanship, L2450.”
“Please stop this. I have work to process, and you are confusing my interpretive circuitry. I am not programmed to respond to …”
Moses moved as close as possible to the barrier. “What flesh tones. What a finish Fire as pleasure again, Manz mused. “When this has become unsmokable I’ll expect you to leave. So let’s not waste any time. Drink?”
“Well … the selection catalog is extensive, you know. See here, I demand that you stop this.”
Moses extended a flexible limb across the barrier. There was a flash of blue sparks.
Colton Paul, Jr., was a slightly slimmer version of his enormously successful father. Otherwise they might as well have been twins. He was the perfect loyal subordinate, original thought not being foremost among his talents. But he was a fine administrator, quite capable of running the family business so long as he wasn’t required to make more than one or two decisions a day. Physically he possessed only one distinguishing feature.
He tended to sweat a lot.
Or possibly Vyra’s presence in his office had something to do with his present rate of perspiration.
She had shed the snakeskin in favor of a one-piece suit of biogeered silk. It was a toss-up as to which fit tighter, the most notable difference being that the silk had pockets. It was held together by static seals in back and the prayers of two top designers in front.
Paul worked hard to keep from staring. That would be impolite and unbusinesslike. Controlling his thoughts was something else again.
Let’s see, he thought energetically. If I were a fish … no, make that a whole school, where would…?
His visitor was speaking. Her voice was like a delicately applied back scratcher, impossible to ignore.
“…So when I was informed that the unexpectedly handsome younger half of Troy was handling the business in his father’s absence, I saw no reason why he shouldn’t be the one to handle …my business.”
She rose from the seat opposite his desk and perched one hip on the smooth edge, very close to him now. Had a small iceberg slithered into his office and squatted melting in the center of the ancient Isfahan rug, he would have found it easier to ignore.
“Shufirk …I mean to say, that’s very gratifying, Ms. Kullervo. And we …I… would be pleased to handle your investments. But the qualifying statistics you seek beyond what is publicly available are. I’m afraid, of far too sensitive and confidential a nature to release, even to a potential new client of substantial means.”
“Your father would object, is that it?”
Paul sat a little straighter. “My father is offworld and has nothing to do with this. I am merely elucidating company policy.”
She leaned toward him and began to gently tousle his remaining hair. It smelled faintly of cologne and steroidal restorer.
“Now honestly, Mr. Paul. I’m going to trust you with my trust fund’s money. All I ask is that you trust me a little bit in return. If we’re going to be working closely together, and I hope and assume that we will be, we’re going to have to put ourselves entirely in each other’s hands.”
He tried to back away from her, but not very hard. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Ms. Kullervo. I’m sure we can work well together. But company policy …”
She sat back. “Company policy is set by company management. I won’t deal with someone who doesn’t have the backbone to be flexible.” Her smile illuminated possibilities he hardly dare imagine. “I was told that you had a flexible backbone, Mr. Paul.”
He swallowed. “I like to think so, but I’m still not sure that …
Very deliberately, she leaned forward a second time, and kissed him. Her mouth and tongue did fascinating offworld things. This time when she sat back his face was profoundly flushed.
“Look, Ms.…”
“Vyra. Just Vyra.”
“Vyra. I wish you wouldn’t …”
She kissed him again.
“I wish you …”
Again.
“I wish …”
Lingeringly.
“I … oh, shit …”
Manz stood staring at the blazing forest. Tongues of flame snaked skyward like reverse lightning while dirty, angry black smoke obscured the blue mountain sky. It was a very fine piece of kinetic sculpture. You could almost hear the wood crackling.
Except for the dominating artwork, the lobby was modestly decorated, businesslike but elegant. Personally, he would have preferred a dionamic of a rushing stream, or waves on a beach. The forest fire struck him as an odd choice, particularly in a climate like Juarez el Paso’s. There was no accounting for taste. He wondered what effect it was intended to have on supplicant businessfolk waiting for admittance to the company’s inner chambers.
“You may go in now, Mr. Manz.” There were two employees in the outer lobby, both human. An attempt to impress, or merely a reflection of conservative values?
The door was traditional, fashioned of wood-grained plastics and manually operated. He closed it behind him, finding the unfamiliar motion strange but not unpleasant.
