Page 58 of Throwing Fire

I take down the saber and pull its sheath and a belt out of my cubby. I’ll wear the sword openly. I’m SecChief, tonight’s a formal function and no one’s going to question my right to wear what’ll look like a ceremonial blade. Kez helps me buckle it on.

She gives me the once-over and her lips quirk.

“What?”

She smiles. “When you’re running around here barefoot with a bunny in each pocket, I forget.”

It’s never more than one bunny. “You forget what?”

“How intimidating you look when you gear up.”

Good. That’s the intended effect. “Let’s go scare the pants off ‘em, kitten.”

My tough kitten takes my hand and together we head out to send a message to her would-be assassins.

CHAPTER 22

The Tyngalings know how to party, I’ll give them that.

It’s not the naked beach rave that Kez and her friends favor. Or the shots-on-a-plank piss-up I used to have with the other grunts in my squad on the rare occasion we were all in the same place at the same time. But it’s a definite party, and despite the formality of it, there’s plenty of skin, and plenty of booze.

I make a slow circuit through the party with Kez on my arm. Myhre’s team of party planners – three Pan-Asian girls who probably aren’t related but have been vacced and polished to such an identical aesthetic ideal that they look like triplets to me – have used the black-marble and glaz atrium of Tyng Tower as a backdrop for their theme: time. They’ve hung huge replicas of antique timepieces from the twelve-meter ceiling. The central pool’s been topped with a sundial fountain, complete with an artificial sun. Even the plates on the round tables are chronos.

Milling around under these ticking reminders of corporate productivity are maybe three hundred people. Many more than were invited, and the guest of honor hasn’t even arrived yet. Some are dancing already on a raised floor at the far end of the atrium. Thetriplets wanted the dancefloor to be outside, under the stars, but I vetoed that. Too exposed. So they’ve brought the stars inside. Constellations wink and twinkle over, around and somehow between the dancers. More than one dancer pauses in their movement to admire the play of starlight on their skin. I’ll admit it’s a pretty effect, and when I spot one of the triplets, I glance at the dancefloor and nod approvingly. She smiles as much as her perfect bow mouth will allow.

The rest of the party guests mingle on the huge expanse between the dancefloor and the seating area. Even with so many people in it, the atrium doesn’t feel crowded. Tyng really did build large.

We’re about to start a second circuit, after I finish a crunchy mouthful of fried tegli that one of the circulating wait-bots has brought, when Myhre arrives. I hear the swish of silk before I see her through the crowd. Smell her hot jasmine scent. She’s wearing a traditional silkkimono. Pink cherry blossoms, spattered with silver hourglasses like water droplets. Her midnight hair hangs to her waist, framing the vivid silk. The kimono’s cut conservatively, but her curves still fill it out. It’s not obvious when she’s wearing her corporate uniform, but Myhre’s got a serious body on her.

I nod, in part because I don’t want to register any reaction to how good she cleans up in front of Kez, and in part because I’m still annoyed at her.

Myhre comes straight to me. She goes up onto the toes of whatever she’s got under thekimono– and I don’t think it’szori– and plants a kiss on my cheek. When she steps back, she flicks my cheek with her thumb, wiping off whatever mark her bright red lips have left.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she says. “You must be feeling better.”

“Yeah.” I don’t brush off my cheek or anything so obvious, but I don’t give her any approval, either in my expression or my tone.

Her red-red mouth firms. “I’m glad. Now we can getback to work. I got your plex. I’ve left you several reports, but I can summarize?—”

“Later, Ree,” I say, using her nickname to soften the brush-off. “Enjoy the party.”

“Really.” Her dark eyes search mine, flick to Kez and then back to me. “We’re just socializing tonight?” she asks slowly.

“That’s right.”

She looks incredulous. Watches me for a moment; shrugs it off with a flick of her head. “Then you can dance with me later,” she says. Her smile shows too many teeth. “Excuse me, I see the Hemos Rae. I’ll see you later.” She dips on her high heels. “Kezra.”

With a rustle of silk and sway of her impressively molded backside, Myhre walks away.

“Jeez,” Kez says softly.

“What were you sayin’ about sending her and Chi somewhere?”

Kez chuckles. “Think the Clouds is far enough away?”

“I don’t think Caix is far enough away,” I say, naming one of the more distant Colonies.

“We can’t afford to alienate her,” Kez reminds me.