Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [18]
Lawmon Jise, on the other hand, was someone to be impressed by. He had shaped the new OLOSS charter—a most skilful, subtle piece of legislation that kept the arbiters of power among the sentients in perfect balance. Though Lawmon-ing for the most part bored Tekton, he couldn’t help but appreciate such political genius. Negotiation and manipulation were useful skills for anyone. He must get to know Jise.
Tekton entered the lounge, keeping his robes firmly shut. The tyro humanesques ignored him. Perhaps Ra’s superior manner had made them cautious. So he set about disarming it.
‘I should have introduced myself earlier. I am Tekton archiTect from Lostol. You have already met my cousin Ra. Permit me to say that blood ties do not indicate common personality traits on my world.’
Dieter Miranda chuckled while Labile Conit scowled into his drink. Tekton disliked him instantly—but that was not an uncommon phenomenon between Geneers and archiTects.
‘Your work on Ikar is highly regarded, Dieter Seeward. I’m surprised you could be spared to come here,’ Tekton said agreeably.
‘Spared, archiTect? Surely you mean that this would be an obvious progression and reward for me.’
‘That as well.’ Tekton forced a polite smile to his lips.
‘The case for all of us,’ added Labile Conit.
‘Indeed, Labile Conit. You, Dieter Miranda, Dieter Jivviddat and Lawmon Jise are all celebrated individuals—at the top of your professions. I am honoured to be in your company.’ However much the flattery irked him, Tekton knew it would salve the damage done by Ra’s arrogance. Academics differed little in that regard. ‘Tell me, have I received the wrong impression, or are the OLOSS scientists here disinterested in our. . .’ he searched for a word ‘. . . programme?’
‘Their interest in us is purely experiential,’ said Miranda. ‘As long as we present for regular scans and keep out of their research area they are happy. Astronemeins care only for matter and gravity. The fact that an invisible consciousness exists has thrown their paradigms into disarray.’
I can imagine, thought Tekton. ‘And tell me, how fare your projects?’
Suspicion fell over their faces like a shadow cast by an eclipse.
An uncomfortable silence settled until Lawmon Jise cleared his throat. ‘We have found it better not to discuss such things in leisure hours,’ he volunteered.
‘But Tekton is new to Belle-Monde and is excited about his project,’ Labile Conit interrupted. ‘It would be rude of us not to let him share it.’
Tekton looked from one attentive face to the next. As quickly as it had appeared, the shadow had gone. Now they leaned toward him intently. He felt flattered at their interest and it swelled his akura. ‘Of course I have yet to define my project exactly but Sole has asked me to—’
‘Stop.’ Lawmon Jise had risen to his feet, extending a commanding hand. ‘Shame on you, Labile Conit. Shame, shame, shame.’ His voice was musical and mesmerically imperious. Tekton imagined him wielding it like a cut-throat among OLOSS politicians.
‘If the truth be known, and it should, we have found it better not to discuss our projects at all. There is then no room for dispute.’
Tekton felt profoundly grateful to the Lawmon—an ‘esque he could trust. Towards Conit, on the other hand, he felt an almighty rush of childish fury. His logic-mind rushed in to prevent any nonsense. Academia is academia, Tekton. You are the fool for thinking anything else, it chided him.
‘Of course. I see,’ said Tekton. ‘Now, let me buy you all a drink.’
* * * *
Tekton continued his regular visits to the ménage lounge. He took great pains to hide the fact that he had no inspiration and was despairing that he might have contracted geniusblock.
He thought of confiding in Lawmon Jise but pride forestalled him.
Then, during Happy Hormone shooters hour some weeks after his shafting, Tekton witnessed an appalling event.
Every spare second thenafter his free-mind replayed the sight and sound of Jise and Miranda’s untuned flesh slapping and whumping as the two academics met and tussled astride the