The Caryatids - Bruce Sterling [136]
Biserka pouted. “You’ve gone and spoiled it all. How could you let her come in here? I was really, really happy today, for the first time in my whole life! I was happy for maybe one hour! I can dance! You know I can dance. I learned some hot new moves in Los Angeles, and you were going to love those! Now my timing’s all messed up and it’s all ruined.”
“No problem,” said Lionel, beaming supportively. “Just get ready to run your theme again. When I throw out my hand like this”—he gestured—“that’s your cue.”
Without warning, music blasted from Lionel’s flesh: brassy, insistent, heart-thudding. Lionel strode confidently into the empty performance space, drew himself up with a winning smile, and did three backflips with a half gainer. Then he threw out his hand.
The stunned audience, who had never seen such behavior from any human being, howled in awed delight.
Biserka came to with a sudden start. She began to dance.
It was not that Biserka danced shamelessly. It was much worse than that. Biserka knew what shame was, and she was using their shame as a weapon to titillate them. Biserka danced corruptively. One wanted to hide the eyes of children from the spectacle. Though the children were quite enjoying it.
Sonja knew that it was her duty to put a swift end to this. She would kill Biserka. Killing Biserka would be the crown of her lifetime.
Sonja was stopped short by a hand on her elbow. It was the Badaulet.
Lucky put his lips next to her ear, so that she could hear him over the howls and the sticky, slinky music. “Our hosts have been telling me about the Chinese state,” he said.
“They’re lying to you.”
“Well, you are my wife, and I want you to tell me the truth.”
Sonja wrenched her arm free from his grip. “I always tell the truth to my men.” No matter how much it hurt them.
“Are these young men really the Chinese state? They’re the former leaders of the Chinese state, only living in the wilderness?”
“Yes. That is true.”
“But they are bold men like me, and brave like me, and they ride and fight like me. And they do not hide behind Chinese walls because they aim to conquer the world.”
“They won’t succeed.” She pointed. “He is going to conquer the world. He’s already conquering the world. He’s doing it right now while he’s watching that slut dancing for him.”
The expression on Montalban’s face could have been canned and poured over cereal. He was transfixed by Biserka’s dancing. He was fascinated.
Biserka sensed this and was playing to him. Biserka knew that she had him. She had found some aching hole in him, found a stained chink in the white knight’s armor. It wasn’t, after all, that hard to find. That part of him that belonged to her. She was reeling him in.
The Badaulet watched Biserka’s flurried writhing with unfeigned disgust. “Your lord and master there is a decadent weakling.”
“I’m sure he would tell you that he is ‘healthily in touch with his darker side.’ ”
“I could kill him. He’s not so much of a man. His younger brother, the one who dances like a woman, he’s strong, but he has long hair. They are only two men, they’re not two gods. In the eyes of the one God, I’m as good as them. Only, I have pride and cleanliness, and decency, and aspirations to please my Creator. If I put my body next to his body, I can put my knife through him.”
“Don’t do that. To kill a guest is dishonorable. Also, he’s so rich that he might not stay dead.”
“You love him,” he told her. “That’s why you urge me not to kill him. I want you to tell me, as my wife, that you love me better than him. That you will leave him and his life, and live my life.”
“I know that you deserve that from me,” she told him, “but I already swore once by everything I held sacred that I’d never see him, or hear him, or touch him again, and, here he is.” Sonja began to cry. “I swear I can’t help it.”
“Any woman among these noble people would be a better wife to me than you are,” he said. “They all admire me very much, they need my warrior skills. If I join them, I will be high in rank, they will give me twenty women like you. Better women