Steg obeyed the instruction and stepped into the room. The lights were very low and as he stopped to allow his eyes to adjust he heard the door click shut behind him. The far wall was ceiling to floor glass and he moved across the room and gazed out at the evening stars, so different to those visible on his home world, twinkling in their velvet setting. The external scene blanked out as the lights suddenly brightened.
“My lord, it does not charm a girl to be ignored in preference to the evening sky.”
This time Steg could not hide his start of surprise. He turned. “Ma’am?”
“Miss.”
The response was simple and assured. Steg looked closely at the speaker. She was most attractive, he thought, perhaps the most attractive young woman he had ever seen. Not beautiful, he decided, but definitively attractive. Her eyes were green and held a sparkle of humor. She was dressed in a deep red gown that touched the floor. Her jewelry matched her eyes. She turned the lights to a lower setting.
Steg bowed politely. “Miss. What can I do for you?”
“I think you should ask rather what I can do for you, Steg de Coeur?”
Steg kept his expression blank, hiding the sudden shock that her words generated. “Steg de Coeur?” he queried.
“Yes, my lord,” she smiled triumphantly. “I think your presence here is a little foolhardy. If I could find you, Imperial Security—the Imps—won’t be far behind. We must leave now, before they arrive.”
“Leave? Oh no, miss. I have a finely engraved genuine invitation to attend this grand display and I have no reason or desire to depart early.”
“You may not realize—the Imps have a full description of you, Steg de Coeur, and they say you are an outlaw. So all they need do is check as I did. I simply ran a program to see if anyone matching your image was here, tonight.” She indicated a workstation. “Then I waited until you presented your invitation and I asked an Imp captain to bring you to me. He thinks you are a friend and does not know the computer matched images.”
“Images?” Steg was concerned and moved closer to the young woman. “You are quick to name me—falsely—however you are mistaken. Now, who are you?”
She ignored his questions. “I know who you are. And you are in danger, I told you. I have been checking for weeks, just in case.” She stamped her foot. “We must get you away from here.”
Despite the circumstances, Steg was amused at her fiery display. “I am not going anywhere. I repeat, I am not—this person. Let’s prove it—show me the
search program
and
image
. Also, you can tell me who you are.” He moved to the workstation and indicated the young woman should join him. She did so, with obvious reluctance. He waited silently, forcing her to make a move.
“Oh, very well. Here, see.” She quickly and expertly keyed commands. “That file contains your image. And here is the identity check the Imps made when you entered my father’s official residence.” Her expression was of an obviously superior person explaining a self-evident fact to someone of lesser standing.
Steg was offhand. “Well, something doesn’t register.” He recalled the Glass Complex message. “Open the image file, and let’s check that.”
She raised her chin. “I know how to run programs. And the image is of Steg de Coeur.”
“May I see it? You brought me in here on this fantastic pretext—I think I should be able to see what caused this mistake.”
At the same time he was requesting to see the image, Steg was also communicating with the computer system.
*Althere Complex. This is Steg de Coeur. Respond please.*
*Althere Complex.* A wave of green light almost unsteadied him.
*A program was initiated from this workstation. It used an image in a search routine. Please substitute the Glass Complex-sourced image for that image file.*
*Executed.*
*Further instruction follows. Ensure image provided by Glass Complex is substituted for all images held in Althere Complex for Steg de Coeur.*
*Executed. Ninety-five substitutions carried out. No other images discovered.*
*Next instruction. If any operator attempts to use Steg de Coeur images or descriptions, please alert me. Also, ensure all image match processes entered for Steg de Coeur use the new image. Acknowledge.*
*Executed.*
He looked at the woman who was still regarding him with concern and said, “Please, open the image file—let’s see an end to this.”
She wilted. “All right.” She keyed in a brief instruction and as a result, an image was displayed on the viewscreen. It obviously was not Steg de Coeur. She looked at it in disbelief.
“What happened? How did you do that?” she whispered.
“What happened? Why, you opened an image file; however, not mine. End of story. You obviously made some kind of mistake.”
“Who are you?” She did not drop her gaze and Steg could almost see the rapid chase of thoughts, he could discern her growing apprehension.
“My name is Stephen Ross.”
“I—I think you frighten me, my lord.”
“That may be. Now, will you tell me—” Steg stopped speaking and wrapped his arms around the young woman, drew her close, and kissed her firmly. She was too surprised to struggle or object. The door swung open and the unheralded intruders turned the lights up to full intensity. In the moment before he released the girl, Steg noted they were two junior officers of the same regiment as the captain who had escorted him to this room. He ignored the flood of embarrassed color rising in his companion’s face.
“Yes? Do you often go around entering rooms unannounced? If so, I am surprised that you have not been taught better manners.” He frowned his displeasure at the two officers.
“My lord,” one of the intruders offered, “and my lady, please accept our apologies.”
The other officer had stepped forward, almost belligerently, at Steg’s sharp reprimand and was held back by his companion.
The first speaker continued. “We were checking rooms that we thought were unoccupied.”
“Your explanation—although barely adequate—is accepted. Now leave.”
The spokesman turned his attention to the young woman. “My lady?”
“Yes, your explanation is indeed puerile, and you may withdraw. Before I report your rudeness.”
The two intruders withdrew, closing the door as they turned away. Steg turned to his companion, his accusations unvoiced.
“They are Imps. Perhaps what they said was true, that they were just checking rooms.”
“Or else they had their suspicions raised?”
“Oh no, I didn’t—”
“So having me escorted across the reception hall did not raise anyone’s suspicions? Very well, it appears you have just earned the pleasure of my company for the remainder of the evening.”
“But—”
“No, you listen to me. You had me brought here in the most conspicuous way possible just because of your mistaken suspicions. It did not occur to you that you may have been in error. If I leave you now, and exit by myself, those bloodthirsty amateurs are going to try to challenge me, or worse, take me off to undergo some unnecessary questioning. I would end up so full of ‘scope and so deep in their dungeons I would not see daylight for years. And that will happen without guilt on my part—you know Imperial Security approach is to assume everyone is guilty.”
“I am sorry, you must believe me. I thought—oh, now I am so confused. Just who are you if you are not—and what did you do to the workstation—?” She broke off as Steg took her arm and led her towards the door.
“We need to leave here, and join the thronging guests. Before we leave, however, you had better tell me who you are—people will think it strange if I stay by your side for the evening, yet I do not even know your name.”
“I—I’m afraid to tell you—”
He articulated each word with measured care. “Tell me who you are—let’s start with your name.”
“I am called Lorraine, Lorraine of Jurian.”
“Jurian? And your home?”
“I live here on Althere.”
“That is not what I mean.”
“My homeworld is Denixx.”
“By the—” Steg swore. The banked flame of revenge flared and surged through him. He gripped her arm. “You are related to that murderous bitch—” He broke off as he saw realization dawn on her face. “Yes, if indeed de Coeur was my name, your life would now be in jeopardy. Convince me, Lorraine of Jurian, why I should permit you to leave this room alive.”
Steg noted with approval her apparent calm, although he could see a flicker of fear in her eyes. She tried to speak, swallowed and tried again, this time with success.
“We—the Jurian do not approve of her.”
“Ha!” he interrupted.
She met his stare, challenge replacing fear. She continued. “Yes, the Lady Gaetja is of the Jurian. We have not—do not condone or support her actions.”
“And this is reason for a de Coeur to forego revenge?”
“You need me alive in order to leave here safely,” she reminded, softly.
“Why do you think leaving here will be such a problem?”
Lorraine rubbed her arm as Steg released his grip. “You said it yourself. The Imps will be more than curious, especially if you are alone. If you are with me, they will not do anything.” She stopped, understanding the implication; if Steg left the room alone, it would be because she was indeed dead. She struggled to order her thoughts. “A de Coeur, here—at an Imperial function. Why, what are you after, what do you need?”
Her leap of intuition was impressive, thought Steg, as he silently saluted her presence of mind. He decided to offer her the truth, doubtful she would believe him and optimistic she would not give him away.
“Simply put—I want to meet with a Fleet officer—one Commodore Boston, of Fleet Commissariat, because I wish to buy a commission in the Imperial Fleet.” He paused at the startled, almost shocked expression on his companion’s face. “That surprises you?”
“You, a fugitive de Coeur—you want to enlist?”
“Why not? Again, I am not this—Steg de Coeur. My papers are genuine. I am who I claim to be. A candidate for a commission with the Fleet, and I can afford to purchase that commission. Junior level, admittedly, appropriate for my social station.”
“But they’ll discover who you are—”
“They may discover all kinds of things. However, I am confident that I will be accepted.”
“In that case, if I help you to meet Commodore Boston, what happens to me?”
Steg shrugged. “I have no argument with you. You’ve placed me in an awkward situation and I’d like you to assist me to recover from that. How else can you assist?”
Her response was unexpected. “I know Boston—or at least, I have been introduced to him. I saw him arrive; I could take you to him.”
“Well,” Steg paused for a moment, “could you arrange for him to meet with me in private? Just him and no one else?”
“I can try. It means we’ll have to pass through the crowd out there. I suspect he will be in the games wing, playing cards and drinking with his friends. He’s a compulsive gambler.”
“Come then. Lead the way.” He opened the door and gestured for Lorraine to precede him. He did not hide his surprise when she carefully and pointedly took his arm instead.
“No, together I think. In case any of those officers are about.” She guided him with gentle pressure as they left the room.
******
Chapter 10
Steg noted that they were followed as they moved
through the crowd, the almost gaudy uniforms of the Imperial Security guards weaving counterpoint to the vast mass of variegated visitors. At last they reached the far side of the reception hall and his companion guided him along a series of hallways, past closed doors and open rooms where small and private gatherings were deep in concealed and unconcealed activities. At last they paused at one of the closed doors.
“This is the room, I think.” Lorraine turned to the doorman standing unobtrusively in the shadows. “Commodore Boston—is he here tonight?”
“Yes, Miss.” The doorman was carefully polite.
“Would you be so kind as to convey a message to him?” The doorman nodded and Lorraine continued. “Please tell him that Lorraine of Jurian is waiting and requests a brief moment of his time, if it is convenient.”
The doorman turned and entered the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Steg was unable to discern any details of the room or of its occupants.
“The room has double doors which prevent casual spying and helps keep out unwanted visitors,” explained his companion in response to his unvoiced question. “No, I’ve never been inside the room—I understand some of the guests have established a ’men only’ environment, or at least only senior and privileged male officers and their guests are permitted entry.”
“That seems unduly protective?”
“The privacy allows them to conduct their gambling, drinking and storytelling in private.”
Steg raised his eyebrows. Lorraine did not meet his eyes. She said, “Well, I hear rumors but I ignore those.” They continued their wait in silence.
The return of the doorman interrupted their solitude. “The commodore said he would join you in a moment, Miss Jurian.” The stern expression on his face relaxed. “His luck has not been very good tonight.”