His stateroom was a double-storey cabin behind the Essene's cathedrallike main bridge. A ten-seat banquet table of polished duralloy that I had dined at many times before occupied a mezzanine area at the far end under a domed section of roof that could peel back shielding at the wave °f a control wand to become an observation blister.
Curved stairways, with tefrawood balustrades that Maxilla claimed had been salvaged from a twenty mast sunjammer on Nautilia, ran down from either end of the mezzanine onto the main deck area, a wide hall with a floor of inlaid marble. Works of art – paintings, statues, antiques, hololiths – were displayed all round the room between the crystelephantine wall pillars. Some were protected by softly glowing stasis fields, others hung weightlessly in invisible repulsor beams.
Elegant scroll-armed couches and chairs, some draped with throws of Sampanese light-cloth, were arranged on a large rectangle of exquisite Oli-tari rugwork in the centre of the room. The rug alone was worth a small fortune. The room was illuminated by six shimmering chandeliers from the glassworks of Vitria, each one suspended by a small antigrav plate so they floated below the dished ceiling.
I sat down on a couch and accepted the balloon of amasec Maxilla
handed to me. 'You look like a man who wishes to unburden himself, Gregor,' he said,
taking a seat opposite.
'Am I so transparent?'
'No, I fear it is rather more a case that I am hopeful. It's been a boring few months. I crave excitement. And when the only man I know who makes a habit of getting involved in the most ridiculously perilous ventures anyone ever heard of calls to me for help, I perk up/
He fitted a lho-stick into a long silver holder, lit it with a tiny flick of his digital ring weapon and sat back, exhaling spiced smoke, rolling the amasec in his glass around with an experienced hand.
'I…' I tried to begin, but I didn't really know where to start.
He put his glass down and made a gesture with his control wand like a theatrical conjuror. The air became close and slightly muffled.
'Speak freely/ he told me. 'I've activated the suite's privacy field/
Actually/ I admitted, 'my hesitation was more to do with not knowing what to say/
'I deal in routes and journeys, Gregor. In my experience, the best place
to start is always-'
'The beginning? I know/
I told him, first in general terms and then with increasing detail, about the events as they had unfolded. Durer. Thuring. The battles with Cruor Vult and Cherubael. His dyed face became tragic, like a clown's, as I told him about Alizebeth. He had always had a soft spot for her.