Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [45]
He introduced her around, and she paid close attention, making sure she got names and faces down. It would help tonight and possibly for years to come. It’s not easy to turn your back on someone who knows your first name.
“I have someone special for you to meet,” he said, steering her across the room. Toward Ben Tripley. He saw them coming and excused himself from his companions and turned toward her. Then he was breaking in on her, somehow fragmented, as if there were too much of him to take in at a single glance. His gaze swept across her bare shoulders, rose to her eyes, and signaled that he had concluded she was a lesser creature and nothing here could change his mind, but he wouldn’t hold it against her.
“Nice to see you again, Kim,” he said smoothly.
She returned the compliment and Cole seemed pleased to observe that they knew each other.
“Old friends,” smiled Tripley. Without actually physically touching her he seemed to take possession. It was a momentary thing, like filing a claim. “I couldn’t resist coming when I heard you’d be speaking,” he said. There was an additional exchange at that level and then he was gone, having seen someone he needed to confer with, and she found it easier to breathe.
By the time they were ready to start, there were about four hundred people in the dining room. It was of course a well-off crowd, handsomely attired in satins and silks. Men wore the white or gold neckerchiefs and sashes popular at the time, and the women displayed formfitting gowns which in some cases left remarkably little to the imagination.
The waiters brought an array of meats, greens, and fruit. A bottle of wine showed up in front of Kim, but she passed on it, intending to wait until after she’d spoken. She was seated near the lectern, immediately to the right of the hotel’s CEO, Talika McKay. McKay was a petite brown-haired woman, with angelic eyes, a benign smile, an effervescent manner, and the compassion of a shark. Kim had twice seen her in action when publicity efforts had gone awry.
Tripley was in the middle of the room, in earnest conversation with the other diners at his table, but his eyes occasionally found her. When they did there was an intensification of force, and the dining room tended to recede while Tripley came sharply into focus. I know your secret, he seemed to be telling her, you are a woman who chases phantoms. You come here and pretend to be a person of scientific achievement, but you are really quite attractive and very little else.
The head table was given over to McKay and Kim, to the president of the Greenway Travel Association, and to Abel Donner, who had supervised the conversion of starship into hotel. McKay functioned as master of ceremonies.
When the diners had finished, McKay stood up at the lectern, welcoming everyone to the grand opening of the Star Queen Hotel, giving mild emphasis to the last word. It would, she said, carry on in the grand tradition of the celebrated liner. She briefly outlined the capabilities of the Star Queen, recommended its facilities for executive training, and introduced the president and the chairman of the board, each of whom briefly gushed over his pleasure at being present.
She described some of the vacation packages that would be available, pointed out that a special connection had always existed between the Star Queen and the Seabright Institute, and turned to Kim, who wondered what the special connection was.
“Our principal speaker this evening—” she began.
Kim understood that politics had brought her to this event. Somebody at the Star Queen had owed somebody at the Institute a favor. They needed a representative, the Institute needed exposure, and voilà, Brandywine arrives at the lectern. They understood she’d make her