Proteus in the Underworld (6 page)

A peasant-empress? Incongruous, given the Melford reputation. Bey remembered their previous meeting. It was hard to imagine then that anyone would ever dare to touch the imperial Gertrude Zenobia Melford.

"Where can I change my clothes and dry my shoes?" She held up the grey bag she was holding. "I didn't expect anything like this, but I did bring a spare outfit."

No apology for arriving uninvited. Nothing about being late. No embarrassment at barging in without knocking. And no doubt in her mind that she would be offered hospitality.

Total self-confidence. That's what life must be like when you grew up with the solar system at your feet.

Bey nodded to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. "In there. Where's your pilot?"

"In the carrier, down on the beach. I told him to stay there. How about a drink for me? Plenty of ice. I'll be back in a few minutes."

She vanished. Bey was left to ponder the next move. This was his house, his property, his kingdom. He had a perfect right to throw Trudy Melford out, to tell her to get the hell away from Wolf Island. Already he knew he would not do it. But he did need to assert himself and throw her off balance. Trudy Melford rolled over people so easily, she must assume that it was her God-given right.

Bey hurried to the door at the rear of the house. In the closed porch, sheltered from the storm, the two mastiff hounds lay nose to paws. He spoke softly to them and they stood up and stretched. As he opened the outer porch door they went bounding off into the pelting rain.

By the time that Trudy Melford reappeared Bey was sitting comfortably gazing out at the driving sleet. A half-empty glass was in his hand and a full one sat waiting on the low table.

She was dry-haired and rosy-cheeked, dressed now in a full-length pleated robe of pale mauve with loose sleeves. Bare toes peeped below the robe's hem. Trudy Melford padded across to Bey, picked up her drink, and sat down across from him without waiting to be asked. "I'm glad you decided to be sociable. I wasn't sure, you know, even though I acted as though I was."

"I admire nerve. Of any kind." Bey raised his glass. "Welcome to Wolf Island."

She nodded, sipped, and gazed out of the wide picture window. "Nice place. This what you did with the money from BEC?"

"You know it is. You also know that the multiform licenses gave me enough to do anything that I want to do for the rest of my life. You should have realized that sending Jarvis Dommer after me was a waste of time."

"Maybe I did." The blue-green eyes sparkled at Bey. "So why didn't you turn me away the second I arrived at the house?"

"Curiosity." And another reason, one that Bey was not going to mention. "You knew I would say no to any suggestion that I work on new commercial forms. I knew you knew. And the answer is still no. But if you were to answer a few questions maybe I would reconsider."

"Ah. Ask, then." Trudy crossed her legs. One bare foot showed beyond the dress. Bey saw that it was well-arched, broad and solid. More peasant pattern. BEC was nothing if not thorough.

He nodded. "Just three simple questions. One, what do you really want me to do? Two, why
me
, when BEC retains a thousand form-change specialists? And three, why did you move Melford Castle to Mars? Maybe you should answer that one first."

Trudy had been quietly sipping her drink, but at the final question Bey saw a new expression flicker in her eyes. Surprise? Or anger? How often did people question the motives of the Empress?

And then she was once again in full control. "The move to Mars, that's an old story and a long one. BEC's form-control patents, as you know, are employed through the whole solar system. You may also know that patent violations are common, with pirate hardware and software in use from Pluto on out."

"I worked with some of those out in Cloudland. Pretty good equipment, I thought."

"But stolen ideas, you must admit. Five years ago I went to Earth's Planetary Coordinators and pointed out that BEC contributes as much to this planet through taxes and fees as a major government department. Revenue generated anywhere in the solar system floats through to BEC Headquarters. When BEC loses money because of patent violations in the Outer System, Earth loses, too. I asked for help in persuading the United Space Federation to cut down on the pirating. I know the USF. I felt sure that they would at least make an effort if they were asked.

"Well, I was right about the USF. It was the Planetary Coordinators, here on Earth, who wouldn't do one damned thing. A whole year went by. Nothing. And another year. I went to them again and this time we had a major fight. If you want to, you can check that for yourself. It's in the public record."

"I don't need to check. It was talked about within the Office of Form Control. For what it matters, I was on your side."

"All right. But that's when I got mad and went shopping. BEC Headquarters had been on Earth since the company started. It didn't have to be. I talked to Mars and the Belt and I even asked for bids from Europa and Ganymede. Mars gave me the best offer, and I signed a deal with them. They get a fraction of BEC royalties, with a much bigger piece of anything earned where the pirating has been going on.

"As soon as the contract was signed I was ready to relocate. But I was damned if I'd be driven from my home as well as my planet. So I included Melford Castle in the move. End of story. Does that answer your question?"

Trudy arched dark eyebrows at Bey while she calmly sipped her drink. He nodded thoughtfully. Just like that. Get mad, make a deal, move Melford Castle. A hundred-and-fifty-room mansion, built on bedrock, lifted and carried across fifty million miles of open space to be set down carefully on Mars. All it needed was gobs and gobs of money. And a formidable will. The Empress of BEC had both.

Bey heard a faint and excited barking from outside. The hounds were on the way back. "What about the other two questions?" he asked. "Why me? And what were you hoping I could do for you?"

"Easy. You, because you're the best there is, and since you retired you have time to spare and can focus on anything that takes your fancy. As for the other question, what you would
do
, I can't answer it—until you have a chance to see something for yourself."

Flatter me, then rouse my curiosity.
But it could work. Bey knew he was responding. He needed his confusion factor to throw Trudy Melford off balance.

And at last it was here—the first part of it. Janus and Siegfried, soaking wet, pushed open the door and ran into the house. Their arrival told Bey that he had less than thirty seconds. He stood up and walked over to the door as though intending to close it. Behind him the dogs were shaking themselves vigorously, spraying water in all directions.

Bey took hold of the heavy door. Instead of closing it he swung it wide. Approaching the threshold, right on cue, came Sondra Dearborn. She was bedraggled, shivering, and even wetter than the dogs.

Bey took her by the arm and drew her inside. "Come in, Sondra. There's someone here that I want you to meet."

He turned. "Trudy Melford, meet Sondra Dearborn. Sondra, this is Trudy. Did you bring a change of clothes? I thought not. Make yourself a drink. And why don't the two of you get to know each other a little while I hunt up something warm and dry for Sondra to wear?"

* * *

Bey left the room without another word and headed deeper into the house, closing the door behind him.

Sondra stared after him in bewilderment. She was exhausted. After a horrible experience with the Fugate Colony form in low Earth orbit, she had been through another one almost as bad in fighting her way to Wolf Island. With smart planes and boats and self-correcting equipment, few people died any more during transportation. But that was only another way of saying that occasionally people
did
die. Sondra was hugely relieved when her solo transport landed on the wind-lashed beach. She stuck the data recordings made during her trip to orbit into the pocket of her dress and jumped ashore. She didn't take a second look at the other craft, farther along the shore, and she paid little attention to the two dogs whose frenzied howls greeted her arrival. She was no longer afraid of them. In fact she was glad to have their barks pointing the way ahead as she staggered toward the house through driven sleet so thick that she could hardly see.

All the way across the ocean she had wondered what Bey was likely to say to her. Here she was again, arriving at Wolf Island without invitation or adequate warning.

It was mystifying to find him greeting her at the door like a dear and intimate friend. And even more baffling when, after the briefest of introductions to Trudy Melford, he left her alone with the super-billionaire who controlled BEC.

To hide her confusion Sondra did as Bey had suggested. She'd been offered a drink, she wanted a drink, she
needed
a drink. Something strong with warmth and plenty of stimulants, to calm her chattering teeth and churning belly. She mixed, gulped, and gulped again until the glass was empty. Only after she had mixed a refill did she finally turn to face Trudy Melford.

The other woman was watching her with concentration and poorly-disguised irritation. Sondra knew why. She had broken up a tête-à-tête between Trudy and Bey. From the look of it, a very private one. A casual guest did not sit at ease and barefoot, in a lounge robe carefully designed to show off her lush figure.

Sondra returned the detailed scrutiny. Trudy Melford wore the current look, but at an age older than was fashionable. Sondra guessed it at thirty, but assessed Trudy's actual age as a good deal older. Mid-forties, for a bet.

Why wear neither one age nor the other, neither true age nor the early twenties that was the general preference? Sondra looked again, and saw other anomalies. She had studied the current fashion in great detail. Like Bey, she could catalog the minor differences.

And unlike Bey, she was able to make another deduction. Before ever visiting Wolf Island she had studied every reference she could find to Behrooz Wolf. Not just his technical work, but the personal details. She knew the name, age, background, and physical appearance of every woman with whom Bey had enjoyed a significant relationship.

So, apparently, did someone else. Because Trudy Melford's deviations from the standard form were far from random. They had all been chosen with infinite care—even, Sondra now realized, the age—to make Trudy Melford's appearance a subtle composite of Bey's former female companions.

It was ironic. Sondra had considered doing the same thing herself, until she made a rough estimate of how much it would cost. Nothing that she would need was off-the-shelf. The necessary form modifications called for complete custom-fitting, using specially-written and delicately designed programs.
Expensive
programs. She had been forced to drop the idea.

Sondra was suddenly aware of her own drenched hair and soggy appearance. And so, from the snooty look on her face, was Trudy Melford.

Sondra felt the rising tension between them. "I've never seen a form quite like the one you're wearing." She tried to sound casual, and failed. "How much does it cost?"

"A negligible amount." Trudy raised her dark eyebrows and again surveyed Sondra's clothes. "But rather more, I'm afraid, than you would be able to afford."

The tone was friendly enough. But the claws were out of their sheaths.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of using it myself." Sondra glanced toward the door through which Bey had vanished. "I gather that I'm perfect for some people, just the way I am."

"I'm sure that you are, my dear." Trudy smiled, showing even white teeth. "Perfect. For some people."

Sondra smiled back, seething.

Trudy nodded. The two women turned away from each other. Nothing more needed to be said. There had just been a declaration of war; a statement as clear as if it had been written, signed, sealed, and delivered through official ambassadorial channels.

CHAPTER 5

Bey had watched the whole interaction with a good deal of satisfaction.

He had left the room, but he had not gone far. During his fifty-plus years with the Office of Form Control he had lived at the center of a web of data collection whose gossamer threads extended right through the solar system. It was unthinkable that he would give up that addiction simply because he had retired; and it was natural that his house communications center would track what was happening anywhere on Wolf Island.

The exchange between the two women did not make him feel sorry for either of them. They had invaded his privacy and interrupted his work. Sondra had done it twice. Trudy had done it once only, but she had also inflicted on Bey the unspeakable Jarvis Dommer. They both deserved a little suffering.

He was surprised and pleased with Sondra. It required real nerve to take on the most powerful woman in the solar system, and she had done it rather successfully. True, her mouth was quivering and her hands were shaking, but that could be more the chill of her arrival than a loss of nerve.

More importantly, the meeting had done what Bey hoped it might do. The Empress, clawing and snarling at Sondra, was less imperial. Trudy had lost at least a little of her absolute control.

When the two turned away from each other and apparently decided to speak no more, Bey at once headed back into the room.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged at Sondra. "I don't have anything in the house that would fit you." A perfectly true statement, as it happened. There were no women's clothes in his house at all.

Sondra glanced at Trudy Melford before she answered. "You know me, Bey. One of your old shirts will do just fine. But I have to dry myself before I freeze."

"Of course. Help yourself to anything you find in the guest suite." He gestured along the hallway. Sondra squelched away, turning only once to look back.

"An interesting young lady." Trudy arched her slanting eyebrows. "Your assistant?"

She was fishing. Bey ignored the bait. "You said earlier that you couldn't explain what you wanted me to do until I saw something for myself. You obviously don't have that something with you. Is it on Mars?"