“And that ‘installation’ involved an introduction to the man who now poses as your husband?”
“It’s no pose,” Dina Pearlman said. “The damnable union is legal, all right.”
“But you don’t love him, or even care for him.”
Her mouth was just a red slash across a face that had become a caricature of the harmless, dithering one she had worn. “I care for no human being but Peter Magrison.”
“What would the Bettelhines get out of forcing the two of you to live together as husband and wife?”
She shrugged. “Protective coloration. I think he wanted to use me to redeem Farley more than he wanted to use Farley to redeem me. The silly man had gotten himself into some trouble at another installation he managed, when circumstances left him alone with the four-year-old daughter of one of his lead workers. Something like that made him a undesirable executive, even to Bettelhine employees accustomed to suppressing their own moral qualms for the common good. But he was still an excellent leader who always pushed his workers hard and brought his projects in ahead of schedule. Kurt provided the parents with more than enough compensation to make them forget the outrage, albeit perhaps not enough to pay for the damage such a compromise to their parental responsibilities did to their souls, then paired the two of us together in the theory that his two misbehaving beasts would be willing to report on each other in exchange for small rewards. Later, when the idiot was caught attempting to indulge his passions again, we took certain other safeguards preventing him from ever misbehaving in that manner again. If you trust me on nothing else, Counselor, trust me on this. He no longer has to capability to indulge his baser impulses.”
Paakth-Doy ventured a hesitant, “Did you…castrate him?”
The look Mrs. Pearlman gave her then was any number of things: amused, pitying, contemptuous, and superior… but above all proud. “Nothing quite so disgustingly blunt.” Then, to me: “We live as husband and wife. But do not consider our relationship love. We have attempted to sleep with each other a few times out of boredom. But we have never completed the act. He cannot match the transcendent pleasures I was shown by Peter Magrison… and I cannot pass for under five. Have I mentioned, too, his terrible dullness?”
I coughed. “What are you doing here today?”
“My husband and I are well-known, distinguished contributors to the Bettelhine Corporation and must from time to time be trotted out and provided with the kudos that accrue to high producers like ourselves. At such times I make myself the chattering ninny and he pretends to be a man. These are the same personas we use whenever we mix with co-workers and local society, as our positions force us to do often. I don’t know about Farley, but I have grown so used to putting on that personality on a regular basis, that sometimes I forget and almost manage to make myself believe I’m the person I pretend to be.” Her next expression reflected a dozen separate emotions at once: pride, anger, amusement, sadness, triumph and loss, all coupled with deep satisfaction over the repugnance in our faces. “It may not be the person I was before Peter Magrison liberated me, but it is as close as I can fake it now.”
The moment of appalled silence following that statement lasted for several seconds. Even Monday Brown, who had already known what she was, seemed affected by it. I weighed the life she had never had a chance to live against the life she had embraced instead, and did not know what I was going to say until the moment it left my mouth. “Mrs. Pearlman…you’re a disgusting person.”
It didn’t bother her a whit. “I have been told that before.”
“You have not heard it enough. But for what it’s worth, I think you’ve been truthful with me so far.”
“What you think is worth nothing.”
“I have only a few more questions,” I told her. “I warn you to remain candid, because I will be angry indeed if any of the information I receive from the others contradicts your own answers in any way.”
“I’m not intimidated.”
“You would be if you knew me better. Nevertheless. Have you ever seen a K’cenhowten Claw of God before tonight?”
“Once. In a private collection. I don’t know whether it was authentic or a re-creation.”
“Have you ever met the Khaajiir before tonight?”
“No.”
“Have you ever heard of the Khaajiir before tonight?”
“No.”
“Did you have any idea before tonight that Hans Bettelhine was hosting an alien dignitary of any kind?”
“It would not have surprised me. A man in his position has offworld guests all the time.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Is there any possible way you might benefit from the death of the Khaajiir?”
“No.”
“Is there any possible reason you would want the Khaajiir dead?”
“No.”
“Are you serving any cause outside the Bettelhine organization that would be furthered by the Khaajiir’s death?”
“How many times do you intend to rephrase the same question? No. No. No.”
“Are you serving any cause outside the Bettelhine organization, period?”
“I am allowed no contact with causes outside the Bettelhine organization.”
“Do your privileges as a Bettelhine employee include any means of communication offworld?”
“No. Given my history, my hytex access is read-and-respond only.”
“Is the same true of your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Is there anybody working with you who would send messages on your behalf?”
“No.”
“So it would have been impossible for you to recruit Bocaians as assassins.”
“I am sure I could figure out a way, if the need presented itself. I am a clever woman.”
“But since you did not know of the Khaajiir’s presence until you boarded this carriage, you had no opportunity to abet any conspiracy.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Mrs. Pearlman, all the questions I asked about you and the Khaajiir apply to you and myself as well. Would you have any reason to want my death?”
“Yes.”
Monday Brown rose halfway out of his seat.
I said, “That’s all right. I warned you to be truthful. Let me rephrase. Would you have had any reason to want me dead before this conversation?”
Monday Brown sat down again, mollified.
Mrs. Pearlman seemed to savor the taste of triumph the same way a lizard would have savored a delectable species of bug. “No. I never heard of you before yesterday. I researched you, as I research everybody I expect to meet, but nothing in your past made you a target. I even imagined that as fellow monsters we might even get along.”
“There’s little chance of that,” I told her. “But I’m done with you. Go back to your husband.”
She nodded at me, flashed a predatory grimace at the others, and stood, hesitating just before she reached the door of the suite. “Do you want me to send my husband in?”
“Given a full range of choices, I’d want you to send him out the airlock and leap out after him. But no. I think I’m done with both of you, for the moment.”
She showed teeth again, and left. A few seconds later, following some summons known only to themselves, Brown and Wethers followed, their eyes hiding from mine as if afraid of being punctured by accusations. Paakth-Doy went to the rest room, just as pale as Wethers but not in as much of a hurry.
Skye and I sat staring at each other, the silence providing the perfect soundtrack to the thoughts racing through both our minds. After a while, she said, “Philip’s taken his vassals aside. No doubt they’re comparing notes on all the sensitive corporate scandals you’ll be bringing home when all this is over. I suspect we might be having some trouble leaving Xana once we’re done.”