"Do you know where you are'?"
"Ellroy told me a little. He said there were no obligations, but I could hang around for an interview if I wanted."
"And?"
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
She was flirtatious, but she seemed terribly young. "I'll have to ask you some personal kind of things."
"Like am I a virgin, you mean?"
"For instance."
"No. I had a regular boyfriend back in Atelier Parish. And-well, you know what they say about virgins from Louisiana. They're just the girls without any close male kin." She laughed but Fortunato didn't.
"We need to talk some more," he said. "Do you have dinner plans?"
"'Dinner plans?' Not hardly! But from the way you're dressed I can't see myself going anywhere with you." Fortunato looked at his watch. "We can find you something here to wear. How soon could you be ready?"
Chapter Fourteen
7:00 p.m.
When his barber finished trimming his beard and swept away the apron, Hiram Worchester rose majestically from his chair, shrugged into a perfectly-tailored tuxedo jacket, and surveyed himself in the mirror. His shirt was silk, of the deepest, purest blue. His accessories were all silver. Blue and silver were the Aces High colors. "Very good, Henry," Hiram said. He tipped the barber handsomely.
Curtis waited just outside his office door. Beyond, his restaurant was ready. Waiters and bartenders stood at their stations. Kelvin Frost's astonishing ice sculptures had been moved out onto the floor, each one surrounded by a moat of crushed ice dotted with bottles of Dom Perignon. Tables of hot and cold hors d'oeuvres were scattered throughout the restaurant, to keep the guests from clumping. The musicians stood poised by their instruments. Overhead, the glittering art-deco chandeliers shone softly. The beginnings of a magnificent redgold sunset were visible to the west.
Hiram smiled, "Open the doors," he told Curtis.
A dozen people were already waiting in the foyer when the doors were opened. Hiram bowed to the women and kissed their hands, gave each man a firm handshake, performed the necessary introductions, and pointed them all toward the bar. The early birds tended to be obscure minor aces, insecure of their status and excited by Hiram's invitation. A few, only recently out of the deck, had never been to Aces High before, but Hiram treated them all like long-lost friends. The major aces tended to be fashionably late.
The first uninvited guest was a tall blond college student who looked uncomfortable in his rented dinner jacket. "What do I have to do to get in, guess your weight?" he asked when Curtis called Hiram over to pass on his admission.
"No," Hiram said, smiling. "That got a bit old, I'm afraid. But I see you've read your Wild Card Chic."!
"You bet. So what does it take to get in?"
"Show me proof that you've got an ace power," Hiram said.
"Right here?" The boy looked around uneasily.
"Is there a problem? What is your power, if I might be so bold?"
The boy cleared his throat. "It's kind of hard to-"
His date giggled. "He gets itsy-bitsy," she announced in a loud, clear voice.
The college boy turned a bright shade of red. "Yeah, uh, I compress the molecules of my body, I guess, to make myself smaller. I can, uh, shrink down till I'm six inches tall." He tried keeping his voice low, but it had gotten very quiet. "My mass stays the same," he added defensively.
"That's some power, kid," Wallace Larabee opined loudly from the buffet, where he stood holding a tiny buckwheat pancake that sagged dangerously under the weight of the caviar he'd piled atop it. "Whooeee, I'm sure scared."
Hiram wouldn't have thought it possible for the boy to turn a deeper red, but he did. "Don't mind Wallace," Hiram said. "He nearly ruined our 1978 get-together when he demonstrated his power, and he knows I'll throw him out if he ever does it again. They call him the Human Skunk."
There was general laughter, Larabee turned away to load up another pancake, and the boy seemed a bit less mortified. "Well," he said, "the only thing is, when I do it, I, uh, well, it's like this, I shrink, but my clothes don't."
Hiram understood. "Curtis," he said, "take him back to my office, and see if he can do what he claims."
Curtis smiled. "This way, please."
When they reemerged a few moments later, the maitre d' gave a slight nod, the assembled guests broke into applause, and the boy turned red again. "Welcome to Aces High," Hiram said. "I didn't catch your name."
"Frank Beaumont," the college boy replied.
"But I call him Itsy-Bitsy," his girlfriend volunteered. "Gretchen!" Frank hissed.
"You have my word, I'll take that secret to my grave," Hiram promised. He caught the eye of a passing waiter. "Soft drinks, or are you old enough to enjoy some champagne?" he asked Frank and Gretchen. "Please remember, the room is full of telepaths."
They settled for soft drinks.
The street in front of the Empire State Building's Fifth Avenue entrance was a madhouse. Paparazzi and celebrity watchers and ace groupies formed a milling gauntlet that scru tinized anyone who tried to enter. Jennifer and Brennan watched from across the street as limos pulled up to the red carpet that had been rolled out from the building's foyer to the curb and ace after ace was greeted by popping flashbulbs and squeals of delight.
Peregrine arrived in her chauffeured Rolls. She wore a backless, strapless black velvet dress that was slit in the front to her navel. She smiled graciously at the milling crowd, but kept her wings curled closely to her body, having dealt with feathersnatching souvenir seekers in the past. Tachyon arrived in a limo. His companion was a gorgeous black woman who wore a gown almost as low cut as Peregrine's.
"I'll have to leave you here," Brennan said as a cab pulled up and deposited a man in a white skintight suit.
"Be careful," Jennifer said.
Brennan smiled. "It'll be a piece of cake. Remember, stay away from Fantasy and Captain Trips. They may be in Kien's pocket. "
Jennifer nodded.
"One more thing. I can't imagine anything dangerous happening in there, but, just in case something goes wrong and you have to leave, I want to set up a meeting place so we don't have to chase each other all over the city again." Brennan thought for a moment. "Times Square, the corner of 43rd and Seventh."
"Fine," Jennifer said. She wanted to warn him to be careful again, but that was silly. Things were under control, and the adventure was almost over. She felt, she realized, a little regret mixed in with her relief.
Brennan lifted a hand in salute and she waved. She watched him fade silently into the shadows, then put on her mask, turned, and crossed the street.
"Have you heard about the Turtle?" Hiram asked, almost the second Fortunato came through the door.
"Not since this afternoon. Have they found the shell yet?" Hiram shook his head. "Nothing. I still can't believe it. It's-" He suddenly noticed Cordelia. She'd cleaned up nicely and Ichiko had found her something white and clinging. "My dear. Please excuse my rudeness. I'm Hiram Worchester, proprietor of this establishment."
"Cordelia," Fortunato said. Hiram bent over her hand. Fortunato waited him out. "What about Jane? Is she all right?" Hiram pointed to the bar. "She hasn't been out of my sight all afternoon. His either," he added, pointing to the android next to her.
Fortunato nodded, saw the bottle of unblended Scotch by Modular Man's right hand. "Is he drunk?"
"I heard that," Modular Man said, with great dignity. "I am an android and incapable of becoming intoxicated in any conventional human sense." He made an artificial throat-clearing noise. "I have initiated a subroutine which somewhat randomizes my thought processes, simulating the effects of alcohol, but it will be overridden at any sign of danger. I assure you I am not drunk." He turned back to Water Lily, who was staring into a Shirley Temple and nursing her impatience. "Now, where were we?"