Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [69]
He lay next to Beth, with Mau’s snores forming a background lullaby chorus, and wondered where the pull would take him.
Sole
bring’m closer
bring’m tight
get’m messy messy messy
luscious
TEKTON
‘My cousin Ra? What has he to do with this?’
Connit acquired a cunning expression. The words had slipped out.
‘Both of you are ambitious beyond calculation,’ Connit declared.
‘Beyond calculation is rather histrionic, don’t you think?’
Connit shoved Tekton through the door. ‘You have what you want, Lostol. Now get out of my sight.’
Tekton stumbled backwards, grabbing the corridor rail to prevent a fall.
His free-mind seethed at the assault on his person, and, though his logic-mind rushed to reinstate his witness option, it was not quick enough to capture the actual push.
Tekton left Connit’s rooms with two things on his two minds. What had Ra used Connit for? And how could he best repay the shove?
The Ra topic caused his minds to argue all the way back to his apartment. Logic-mind determined that though Ra was a person to be watched, Tekton’s time would be better served making arrangements for his Sole project. Free-mind thought that its counterpart was obsessed with arrangements, and encouraged Tekton to follow his interest in Ra—or to plan a suitable payback for Labile Connit.
By the time Tekton had reached his rooms, the tension in his head was akin to severe dehydration. He drank several glasses of viliri juice which gave him heartburn and an uncomfortably loose sensation in his lower belly.
When his moud chimed, it was a welcome distraction.
You have received a farcast from Araldis. The first shipment of quixite has arrived at the holding facility.
Excellent! His minds spoke in accord.
And you have a call from Dieter Miranda Seeward.
Yes, yes, put her on.
‘Tekton, you dirty devil. How did you get on with Labile? My moud tells me you’ve been to visit him.’
Tekton took a slow breath before replying. Miranda was astute and intuitive. ‘He seems well enough. A false alarm, perhaps—must have caught him in a mawkish moment. We’ve all been known to fall into the grips of the maudlin from time to time.’
‘Indeed we have. You rescued me from my own bout not so long ago and whisked me off on a romantic trip to Scolar.’
‘Now, now, my dear, are you trying to make Lawmon Jise jealous? You know as well as I that the trip was purely work-related.’
Miranda chortled, sending her famous chins into a wobble. ‘It’s hard to know, between us, who the bigger tease is, Tekton.’ She fluttered her eyelids. ‘Or who has the bigger appetite.’
Tekton’s free mind leapt to partake in her flirtation, but his logic-mind had other concerns. I will need craftsmen skilled in mineral processes. ‘Miranda, how truly thoughtful of you to call. I will no doubt see you soon.’
Tekton ended the call without ceremony and turned his attention to perusing the master craftsmen’s register.
He had worked with many fine trade professionals but there was one who had always eluded him, a brilliant eccentric who chose his work—it seemed—solely on whim. He had thrice refused Tekton—on the floating palaces, a synthetic-reed balustrade and, more recently, on the majestic Latour-moons bridges. It was said that he preferred boutique projects; projects inspired by love and beauty, not gal credits.
I will have you this time, Manruben. Even you cannot resist the lure of quixite.
Tekton farcasted to the master craftsman’s last known point of contact.
Within the shortest ping time, Manruben’s moud returned a vulgar out-of-office response. ‘Manruben is out fucking, so fuck off.’
Ignoring the rebuff, Tekton pinged back a lucrative contract shell which also specified the materials that he would be supplying for use in the sculpt.
Then he peeled off his clothes and treated himself to a well-deserved lotion rub.
Several days later Manruben’s moud responded again; Manruben had