“He is a guest; he has done nothing—” A tiny pause suggested an unspoken yet. “—to warrant anything but a pleasant visit in the guest suite. I believe, however, that the reservations he intended to make on Allie Verger may have progressed to the point of payment; those reservations should be canceled and a refund applied to the paying account. Perhaps one of you would ask his travel companion Ser Teague to step this way so the new arrangements can be explained to him.”
“At once, Sera,” said one of the men. The other moved to stand behind Rafe’s chair. Rafe took another pastry.
Teague, when he entered the office, had the deliberately blank look that Rafe recognized as “criminal playing dumb.” Rafe spoke up at once.
“I told Sera Vatta that I was related to her,” he said. “You know, this is the first time I’ve told someone important that I’m also one of that criminal’s children, but if a rich, beautiful woman can admit it in public, then why not? And I want people to know we’re not all bad—we didn’t inherit criminal tendencies or anything like that.”
Teague’s expression congealed further. He must be wondering what Rafe was up to. He said “Yes, Ser Bancroft.”
“And Sera Vatta very kindly offered me the use of a Vatta courier that can get us to Slotter Key quickly, leaving plenty of time on the return trip to visit that other archive. She’s even going to give me a letter of introduction to her aunt, in Slotter Key’s Defense Department, so I’ll be able to do research in their archives. We’re staying with her until the courier’s ready to leave.”
“Yes, Ser Bancroft. Will you be visiting the bank, though? I thought you wanted to set up accounts at intermediate destinations and Slotter Key.”
Rafe made a dismissive movement with one hand and grabbed another pastry with the other. “I’m sure Sera Vatta can arrange that for us—can’t you, Sera Vatta?”
“Certainly,” Stella said. “There’s a terminal here in our office. We can have your luggage transferred, as well. And what would you like for dinner this evening? Just let my cook know, and I’m sure we can accommodate any dietary restrictions.”
Rafe glanced down at the crumbs on his suit. “I’m not fussy, Sera. I like food.”
“I can’t eat melons,” Teague said. “But that’s all.”
A key phrase Rafe had to answer. “Melons are fine with me,” he said. “But I don’t insist on them.” That should keep Teague from doing whatever Teague was thinking of.
“The cook will bear that in mind.” Stella glanced at her security. “I think these gentlemen would be more comfortable in the guest suite than in my office.” She smiled at Rafe. “Don’t you, Ser Bancroft?”
“Yes, Sera, whatever’s convenient.” To the security man now near Teague he said, “I can’t believe I met my real sister—well, half sister—such a coincidence that she happened to come in while I was in the office. I hadn’t even dared hope—”
“I will dine with you later,” Stella said with a nod to the others. Rafe stood, brushing the crumbs off himself.
“Thank you very much, Sera,” he said. “You’ve been most gracious. I wish—I wish we’d known each other sooner.”
He went out when one of the men gestured for him to go first and then walked beside him as he started, still brushing at his suit, across the outer office. Teague followed; the second security man delayed long enough to ask Stella, “Leech, or really dangerous?”
He heard her laugh and say, “Harmless, I think, but Aunt Grace will sort him out if he’s not.”
The door closed. Rafe and Teague went peacefully along with their escort, out the entrance to Vatta, Ltd., back down the branch, and then along one passage after another until they arrived at Stella’s residence.
Rafe approved of the level of security: their escorts were, he thought, properly alert and well armed, and the servant who opened the door of Stella’s apartment was no mere butler. The guest suite, essentially another complete apartment, had no direct exit to the outside except an emergency hatch, heavily alarmed and marked with a big red sign: EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY.
“I’m Dosi Farbur,” one of the men said. “I’ll be outside if you need anything. Ron here will let the rest of the staff know you’re here, and the cook will be contacting you shortly, if she doesn’t come herself, to learn about your needs. Then he’s going to arrange your luggage. All outgoing calls go through the house board; I believe Sera Vatta feels that you should avoid making your presence here known. Many of her guests have a need for discretion.”
“Yes, Ser Farbur,” Rafe said. “I understand. I’m sure we will be quite comfortable. Is there a vidscreen? There’s a sports match I wanted to watch.”
“Through there.” Farbur nodded toward a door on the left. “Also a small library of both informational and entertainment cubes and a cube reader that displays on the large screen. All local news, sports, and entertainment channels are available.”
“Thank you,” Rafe said.
The study included a small bar at one end where a pitcher of ice water, a tray with glasses, and a plate of pastries had already been set out. When Rafe opened the little cooler below the counter, he found a selection of wines and spirits.
“This is—I’ve never been in a place like this,” Teague said. He glanced around.
“Sera Vatta is, I believe, a very wealthy woman,” Rafe said, for the sensors he knew would be observing them. “I have seen such luxury only on entertainment cubes, or in high-class hostels when at conventions. We will certainly be comfortable here.”
“I wonder what the bedroom is like,” Teague said. Rafe followed him out into the sitting room. There were three bedrooms, all with separate bathrooms. Teague stared for a moment at the plumbing fixtures, then shook his head. “You read about things like this,” he said. “But seeing it… I suppose you know what it all does.”
“Yes. On a station like this, where recycling every drop matters more, some of it’s involved with that. This mysterious coil here, for instance. And this extra pipe. Don’t worry about it; the actual function, from the user end, is standard.”
“But this thing?” A nozzle on a long flexible pipe.
“Vacuum, for cleaning staff. We could use it, if we were being especially tidy guests. It sucks up every drop of water or condensation—on the bath compartment walls—and sends it to primary decontam before shipping it off to the station’s own water treatment facility.”
“They recycle all the water?” Teague looked pale.
“Every drop. Teague, is this your first extended period in space?”
“Yes—I was born, raised, and worked all my life on Nexus.”
“Every space-based facility depends on complete recycling. So do spaceships. Don’t think too much about it.”
“Right.” Teague’s color returned to normal.
“Which bedroom do you want?”
“Uh—I don’t know.”
“I’m taking the green one, then. I’m going to lie down until our luggage arrives—or the cook—whichever comes first.”
That evening, Teague elected to eat in the guest suite, ostensibly to repack their luggage but actually, Rafe suspected, to make sure none of whatever equipment he’d packed had disappeared. Rafe accepted Stella’s invitation to dine with her. Stella had a table set in her tiny garden, made to look larger than it was with a combination of vidscreens around the margin and careful planting.
“Secure,” Stella said. “We can talk.”
But first, they ate her cook’s excellent dinner while Rafe tried to think what he was going to tell her that he hadn’t already.
“Your certainty,” Stella said immediately after swallowing her last bite of the crème brûlée. “Rafe, I understand you don’t want to tell me, but I need to know something.”