Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet (23 page)

“Maybe you and I can arrange a private meeting with Simon Gold,” she suggested.

“I doubt it—and he's not Simon Gold anymore. As of yesterday, his name, title, call it what you will, is Simon the Eradicator.”

“Why is he carrying on like this?” she asked in frustration. “It's not
our
fault that his father became obsessed with the faeries and went crazy!”

“He's got to blame
someone
,” said Attila. “And along with having to lock Gold away, I gather his mother had a series of strokes about a month ago. She's been in an intensive-care unit ever since.”

“Maybe someone ought to tell him that killing us and closing down the
Comet
isn't going to solve either of those problems,” said the Steel Butterfly.

“
I'd
settle for his remembering that he's supposed to be against violence,” replied Attila. “That woman today came
very
close to passing through the airlock.”

“Well, what do you propose to do about these fanatics?” demanded the Steel Butterfly. “Pretty soon one of them
will
get through.”

“I've been giving it some serious thought,” admitted Attila.

“And?”

“And I think we should put a ban on day-trippers—at least until Simon calms down.”

“What will banning the day-trippers accomplish?”

“Most of them are just shoppers,” answered Attila. “They spend all their time in the Mall and never enter the brothel.” He paused. “Our security is much better within the brothel than outside it. We've got cameras positioned in every room and scanners all the hell over the place. But the Mall is a different matter: it's almost two miles long and it's got five hundred and sixty-two stores and boutiques in it.”

“I know all this,” she said impatiently. “Get to the point.”

“The point is simply this: no one is going to smuggle a weapon into the brothel, not even a pocket knife. But after today's experience, I'm not convinced that they can't smuggle
parts
of a weapon, especially a plastic one, into the Mall. They can hide the parts in secret locations inside stores, and eventually someone who knows how to assemble and use it will come up here and do just that. He won't have to enter the brothel; he can just stand in the Mall and start blowing away the patrons. The effect will be the same: we can't stay in business if we can't protect our clientele.”

“Have you spoken to Constantine about this?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

“I thought I'd better talk to you first,” said Attila. “For one thing, I don't think the shops are going to be very happy about it, and if I don't have your complete support Constantine will never buy it.”

“True,” she said, lowering her head in thought. Finally she looked up at his image. “How long would you enforce the ban?”

“That depends upon our friend Simon the Eradicator. I'd certainly keep it in force as long as he keeps telling his people that God will love them even more if they destroy us.”

“What if he keeps it up for a year?” she asked.

“Then we won't allow day-trippers for a year,” he replied. He paused. “Look, if some divinely inspired Jesus Pure comes up here and wipes out three hundred patrons in the Mall, we're not going to have to worry about the shopkeepers anyway. We'll be out of business ten minutes later.”

She sighed. “All right. Let's get hold of Constantine and see if we can persuade him to sanction it.”

She placed three calls before she even got through to his personal secretary, and she was then informed that he would contact her an hour later, when he got out of a meeting with Fiona Bradley. The call came through exactly as scheduled, and Attila was immediately patched into it.

“This had better be important,” said Constantine, obviously annoyed at having his schedule disrupted. “I'm due at another meeting in five minutes.”

“I think it is,” said the Steel Butterfly. “Have you heard Simon Gold lately?”

Constantine smiled. “Simon the Eradicator? Don't worry about him. He's just out for publicity.”

“He damned near got it,” she said. “We caught an armed Jesus Pure trying to get onto the
Comet
today. It was the seventh in two months.”

“There are madmen in every religion. I think Tom Gold proved that.”

“I don't think you realize the gravity of the situation,” interjected Attila.

Constantine checked his timepiece, and frowned. “All right. You tell me—and try to be brief.”

The Security chief explained how the plastic weapon had escaped Cupid's preliminary inspection, outlined the methodology for smuggling a disassembled weapon into one of the Mall's stores, and offered his solution.

“Out of the question,” said Constantine when Attila had finished. “The shops would consider it a breach of contract, and they'd be right. Ninety percent of them would move out within a month.”

“How many of them will move out if a gunman actually gets into the Mall?” replied Attila.

“It's
your
job to see to it that such an eventuality doesn't come to pass.”

“Won't you at least consider it?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

“Don't be ridiculous,” answered Constantine. “The
Velvet Comet
exists to make money. Once it stops turning a profit, we won't need Simon Gold's urging to shut it down.”

“It will make a profit with or without the stores,” she persisted. “And this is only a temporary measure—just until he stops encouraging his followers to attack us.”

“And what if he never stops?” demanded Constantine. “Or let's put the best possible face on it: what if he drops dead next month and the Jesus Pure disband? How am I going to convince any merchant to rent a store in the Mall if he knows that I'll shut him down at the first sign of trouble?” He paused. “Look—I appreciate your concern, but the two of you are taking an extremely narrow view of the situation. The stores stay open.”

“That's your final word?” asked Attila.

“It is.”

“Will you at least discuss it with Fiona Bradley?” asked the Steel Butterfly.

“If Fiona Bradley wanted to deal with the day-in, day-out problems of the Entertainment and Leisure Divisors, she wouldn't have put me in charge of it,” said Constantine, his tone increasingly irritated. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend.”

He broke the connection.

“Well, we tried,” said the Steel Butterfly.

“Should we make an attempt to get through to Fiona Bradley ourselves?” asked Attila.

She shook her head. “We'd be usurping Constantine's authority. I think he'd fire us just for that.” She sighed. “I guess we'll just have to hope that Cupid will be able to keep spotting potential mass murderers.”

“Or that Simon Gold will tone down his attacks,” added Attila. “Who would have thought he would publicly admit that Gold went crazy over the faeries? It takes away the one weapon I was sure we'd be able to use against Gold's successor.”

“You mean the disk of the scene in my office?”

He nodded. “It's totally worthless now.”

“Except as a weapon against
us
,” she said ironically.

“If anyone should ever come across it, Constantine will realize that we lied to him.”

“It's pretty well hidden,” he assured her. “We'll both be retired before anyone finds it.”

“Cupid!” she said sharply.

“Yes, madam?” said the computer.

“Put this conversation in my Priority file, retroactive to the moment when Richard Constantine broke contact with us.”

“Done,” announced the computer instantly.

She looked at Attila. “We'd better not mention that disk again. All anyone has to do is hear us speak about it and they'll know it exists—and once they know what they're looking for, they'll find it.”

“I agree.” A light flashed on his desk. “Another problem at the airlock,” he announced. “What is it, Cupid?”

“I have scanned patron Marianna Vittore of Pollux IV and discovered a subclinical venereal disease. She is being discreetly escorted to the hospital for treatment, and should be able to proceed to the brothel in approximately twenty minutes.”

Attila relaxed. “Thank God for small favors. Every time I see that damned light, I think another Jesus Pure is trying to sneak in.”

“Well, I guess all we can do is keep spotting them and sending them back,” sighed the Steel Butterfly. “Who knows? Maybe they'll get tired of it before we do.”

“Somehow I don't think that's too likely,” replied Attila.

“Neither do I,” she agreed. “Well, I suppose we'd better get back to work.”

“I guess so,” he said wearily, reaching out to break the connection.

And, as the Steel Butterfly and Attila went about their business aboard the
Velvet Comet
, four thousand miles beneath them Simon the Eradicator put his Bible down and began plotting the final step in his campaign to make certain that the orbiting brothel that had destroyed his father was permanently decommissioned.

“Red Alert!”

Attila sat up in his bed.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Red Alert, Attila,” repeated Cupid.

“Come on!” he said irritably. “There hasn't been a Red Alert since the
Comet
was activated.”

“That is true, Attila. Nonetheless, there is currently a condition of Red Alert.”

Attila rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

“All right,” he said, starting to get dressed. “What's the situation?”

“Simon the Eradicator, whom I believe you know as Simon Gold, has docked his ship at the
Velvet Comet
and threatens to destroy the
Comet
—and himself with it—if his demands are not met.”

“Can you get me a visual?” asked Attila, suddenly wide awake.

“Certainly,” replied Cupid, creating a hologram of a private ship at Dock H.

“That's him?”

“Yes, Attila.”

“Does he actually have any explosives aboard his ship?”

“If he didn't, I would not have signaled a Red Alert.”

“What kind and how powerful?” demanded Attila, stepping into his pants.

“He has a single thermonuclear fission device. The detonator has been activated, and my scanners tell me that it is connected to his ship's control panel, enabling him to explode it whenever he wishes.”

“Can you deactivate it?”

“Not without Simon the Eradicator's consent,” answered Cupid.

Attila studied the holograph more closely.

“Give me the worst-possible scenario,” he ordered.

“He detonates the bomb and the
Velvet Comet
is literally ripped apart.”

“Now give me a best-possible scenario that includes detonation.”

“He detonates the bomb, the
Velvet Comet
suffers minimal structural damage, and the radiation within the
Comet
falls to a minimally acceptable level in thirteen years.”

Attila muttered a curse. “All right—so we can't have him detonating his bomb under any circumstances. What are his demands?”

“That the
Velvet Comet
be permanently shut down.”

“What kind of time frame are we talking about?” asked Attila.

“He has given Vainmill eight hours to accede to his demands, which were made seven minutes ago.”

“Has he got a communications channel to Richard Constantine or Fiona Bradley?”

“He does not.”

“Then he wants us to deliver the message?”

“He has not said so, but it seems the logical conclusion.”

“Does the Steel Butterfly know what's going on?”

“When I declare a condition of Red Alert, I am compelled to inform all crew members and patrons.”

“You mean the patrons know too?” demanded Attila.

“I think it is a bad idea,” commented Cupid. “It is very likely to cause a panic among them. But I am unable to bypass that portion of my programming.”

“Wonderful,” muttered Attila. He paused in thought for a moment. “Patch me through to Cordero.”

The image of a man in a green uniform appeared.

“Have we got ourselves a full-scale panic yet?” asked Attila.

The Security man shook his head. “They're nervous and they're scared, but the situation's not out of control yet.”

“It'll get worse,” said Attila. “I'm putting you in charge of them. I'm going to stay here and see what I can do about Simon Gold.”

“Right.”

“How many ships and shuttlecraft are docked here?”

“Nineteen shuttles, forty-six private craft, two small cruise ships, and a food cargo ship.”

“Enough to evacuate all the patrons and staff if we have to?”

“More than enough, counting the cargo ship.”

“Then keep him here. Cupid, get me the Steel Butterfly.” Instantly her holograph appeared over his computer terminal. “Who gets to tell Constantine and Bradley?” he asked. “You or me?”

“I've put an emergency call through to Constantine,” she said. “That means that I might actually receive a reply within an hour or two.”

“Has anyone spoken directly to Simon Gold yet?”

She shook her head. “Not to my knowledge.

Cupid tells me that
he
received the message, checked its accuracy with his scanners, and immediately declared a Red Alert.”

“Well, I suppose
some
body had better talk to him before he starts getting nervous.” He sighed. “I always knew there was a good reason not to be Chief of Security.”

“Good luck,” she said.

“I have a feeling I'll need it.”

He broke the connection, then instructed Cupid to connect him to Simon Gold. A moment later Simon's face and torso blinked into existence.

“You're Simon the Eradicator?” said Attila.

“And you must be the one called Attila,” said Simon, staring unblinkingly into his eyes.

“You don't look much like your father,” remarked the Security chief.

“I looked a lot more like him before his association with the
Velvet Comet
,” answered Simon coldly.

“By the way, do you mind if I see the nuclear device for myself?” asked Attila.

“Not at all,” replied Simon, directing his ship's computer to send an image of it to the
Comet
.

“Impressive,” said Attila.

“Are you satisfied that I'm in earnest?”