Amaryllis's eyes lit with fresh enthusiasm. "Do you know one?"
"Yeah," he said. "As a matter of fact, I do."
The following morning Lucas strode past the desks of two assistant secretaries and a clerk. He entered a small, tastefully panelled antechamber. The refined, conservatively dressed woman seated behind the large desk bore a striking resemblance to the prisms Lucas had seen focusing for Sheffield. Same hair color. Same bra size.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Madison Sheffield."
"I'm afraid Senator Sheffield is busy at the moment." The secretary gave him a polite, inquiring look. "Did you have an appointment?"
"No. But don't worry about it. I don't need one." He moved across the chamber to the closed door of the inner office and reached for the knob.
"Sir, I cannot allow you to just barge in on the senator." The secretary leaped to her feet and hurried around the corner of the desk with a surprising turn of speed. "I told you, he's a busy man. If you have an issue you wish to discuss with him, you'll have to make an appointment."
Lucas glanced at his watch. It was five minutes to ten. "Put me down for ten o'clock. I'm a little early." He opened the door and walked into the inner office.
He shut the door in the secretary's face and activated the lock.
Madison Sheffield was deep in conversation on the phone. He frowned when he saw who had invaded his sanctum. "Excuse me, Bob, something's come up. I'll call you back later to discuss those changes in the bill." He slowly replaced the phone.
A series of muffled thuds sounded on the heavy door. Lucas ignored them.
"This won't take long, Sheffield."
"What do you want?"
"Five minutes to explain the facts of life." Lucas crossed the thick carpet and halted in front of the broad desk. "You're smart enough to have gotten all the way to this fancy office, but if you expect to make it to the governor's chair, you had better be smart enough to keep your hands off Amaryllis Lark."
"What the hell are you talking about, Trent?" Lucas planted both hands on the wide desk. "She's off limits, Sheffield. Touch her and you can kiss good-bye to your hopes of becoming the next governor of our fair city-state. Do I make myself clear?"
"You can't threaten me."
"Normally I don't get involved in politics," Lucas said softly. "It's not a great interest of mine. But for you I will make an exception."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"For you, I will call Nelson Buriton personally to give him the inside story of how you use your off-the-scale talent to raise campaign contributions."
"No one will believe you."
"The public loves Nelson Buriton. They also love a scandal. But just to make certain, I will also call the biggest donors on your list of contributors and warn them privately that they were manipulated into giving money to the Founders' Values Party."
"You have no proof."
"That's the beauty of it, Sheffield. I won't need proof. I'm the Iceman, remember? The guy who ran the pirates out of the islands. The man who discovered the alien artifacts. I even turned down the chance to run for your seat in the city-state senate. Important people, the kind who give you money, will believe me."
"How dare you!" Sheffield shot to his feet, his face working with rage. "Get out of my office before I have you thrown out."
"Stay away from Amaryllis. If the rumors about you start with me and flow through Nelson Buriton, you'll never be able to shake them. Every major contributor you've got will get nervous. People will talk, Sheffield. Ever hear the term psychic vampire? That's what they call off-the-scale talents like you."
"Damn you, Trent, you're one yourself, aren't you? That's the only explanation for what happened when I leaned on you last night. And you've found yourself a prism who can handle something more than class-ten talent."
Lucas smiled faintly. "You're mistaken. I'm only a class nine. And I've got the certification papers to prove it."
"You're a hell of a lot higher than a class ten. You must have rigged the test."
"Impossible. Everyone knows the tests are infallible."
A feverish excitement flashed in Sheffield's eyes. "How did you do it?"
"I didn't do a damn thing, Sheffield. I just took the test and got myself certified a class nine."
"Tell me how you did it."
Lucas shrugged. "Unlike some people, I have nothing to hide."
"Listen to me, Trent, there's no need for us to be on opposite sides. I could take you with me to the president's office. I could name you as my vice president."
"No thanks."
"I'm offering you power, Trent. Real power."
"I've got all the power I need."
"It's Amaryllis Lark, isn't it? You don't want to give her up. I don't blame you. But there's no need to worry. Prisms can work for any talent. We can share her, Trent."
It took every ounce of self-control Lucas possessed to keep his hands from Sheffield's throat. "Touch her and I'll destroy you."
Sheffield made a visible effort to regain control of himself. His composure settled over him, a slightly tattered cloak. "The most you can do is accuse me of focusing a personality trait, and everyone knows personality traits don't count as true talents."
"People don't like to feel that they've been manipulated, Sheffield. And the sort of contributor who gives big bucks to a campaign doesn't like to feel that he or she has been made to look like a fool."
"Get out of my office. I don't have to listen to this."
"Your power is limited by the strength of the prism who works with you. So long as you're getting your focus from a normal full-spectrum prism, I figure you're not much more of a threat than any other smart politician. But if you try to link with Amaryllis, your career is finished. Count on it."
Lucas turned and walked out of the office.
Amaryllis wrapped her coat more securely around herself and surveyed the night-darkened street with grave misgivings. "Are you certain that this Stonebraker person is a qualified private investigator?"
"Rafe Stonebraker is fully qualified." Lucas locked the leer's door before he joined Amaryllis on the cracked, uneven sidewalk. "The trick is to convince him to take the case."
"I thought all investigators needed work. In mystery novels they're always hard up for clients."
"Stonebraker only takes cases that interest him. He's a little eccentric."
"You can say that again. Lucas, I don't like the look of this neighborhood."
"What's wrong with it?"
"You have to ask? It looks like a cemetery."
"Your imagination is running away with you." Lucas took her arm. "Come on, let's go see Stonebraker."
Amaryllis glanced up and down the silent, empty street. It was not her imagination, she thought. The neighborhood did look like the sort of place where one might encounter a few specters.
The address of Stonebraker Investigations was located on a hillside overlooking the city. The district was an old one dotted with huge mansions built by the wealthy during the Later Expansion Period. Fifty years ago the heavy, somber architecture had been all the rage, an overreaction to the ebullience of the Early Explorations Period.
The style had quickly fallen out of favor. Most of the great, dark houses were empty these days. They crouched on the hill like so many brooding gargoyles frozen in time. Their windows were shuttered, and their doors had been nailed closed. Realtors threw up their hands whenever one came on the market. There were very few buyers for the old, decaying mansions. Even the Historical Preservation Society was not very interested in them.
Amaryllis shivered when Lucas brought her to a halt in front of a massive iron gate. "I don't like this, Lucas."
He grinned for the first time all day, his teeth white and dangerous in the shadows. "If you think the neighborhood is spooky, wait until you see Stonebraker's home."