"Ah, there you are, Fell," says another, much younger-looking baron, dressed after the same general standard as Fell but flanked by a bodyguard who's almost certainly metabolically enhanced and ready to defend his master at the twitch of a finger in the wrong direction.
"Ryoval," says Fell. He introduces Miles and Thorne as corresponding to the Ariel.
Ryoval has no further interest in the Dendarii. He peers around them at Nicol, still floating in her bubble, hands politely palm-to-palm twice over, but a bit farther back from the edge of the bubble at Ryoval's approach and with the air of someone trying very hard not to make a facial expression. "My agent didn't exaggerate her charms. Can you have her play -"
Ryoval's wristcom chimes.
"Excuse me, Georish," he says to Fell, and he attends to the call. "Ryoval. And this had better be important."
The person on the other end assures him that it is, introduces themselves, and informs Ryoval that "that creature House Bharaputra sold us has savaged a customer".
"I told you," says Ryoval, "to chain it with duralloy."
"We did, sir. The chains held; it tore the bolts out of the wall."
"Stun it."
"We have."
"Then punish it suitably when it awakens. A sufficiently long period without food should dull its aggression; its metabolism is unbelievable."
"And the customer?"
"Whatever comforts he asks for. On the House."
"I... don't think he'll be in shape to appreciate them for a while, sir. He's still in the hospital. Unconscious, mercifully -"
"Put," snaps Ryoval, "my personal physician on the case, and I'll take care of the rest when I'm downside, in about six hours. Ryoval out." And that is the end of the call. "Morons. Pardon the interruption, please, Georish. Anyway, can you have her play something?"
"Play something, Nicol," agrees Fell.
Nicol nods, positions herself, and plays, discomfort yielding to a perfect tranquility as she fills the room with music.
Until Ryoval interrupts her. "That's enough - she's precisely as described. My agent described her charms perfectly."
Nicol, frustrated by having to stumble to a halt mid-phrase, jams her dulcimer hammers back into their holders, disgruntled.
"Perhaps you have also received my regrets."
"But my agent was only authorized to negotiate so high - for something so unique there's no substitute for direct contact."
"I enjoy her skills where they are. It's harder at my age to come by enjoyment than money."
"So true. But other enjoyments might suffice. I could arrange something special. Not in the catalog."
"Her musical skills, Ryoval. Which are unique, genuine, not artificial creations to be duplicated in your laboratories."
"My laboratories can duplicate anything."
"Except, by definition, originality."
"Well," says Ryoval. "A tissue sample? It would do her no damage, and you could enjoy her services uninterrupted."
"It would damage her uniqueness. Circulating counterfeits brings down the value of the real thing, you know that, Ry." Fell grins.
"But not for some time. The lead time on a mature clone is at least ten years - ah, but you know that." He bows, apologetically, although he's been impolite.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-08-28 02:19 am (UTC)"Ryoval," says Fell. He introduces Miles and Thorne as corresponding to the Ariel.
Ryoval has no further interest in the Dendarii. He peers around them at Nicol, still floating in her bubble, hands politely palm-to-palm twice over, but a bit farther back from the edge of the bubble at Ryoval's approach and with the air of someone trying very hard not to make a facial expression. "My agent didn't exaggerate her charms. Can you have her play -"
Ryoval's wristcom chimes.
"Excuse me, Georish," he says to Fell, and he attends to the call. "Ryoval. And this had better be important."
The person on the other end assures him that it is, introduces themselves, and informs Ryoval that "that creature House Bharaputra sold us has savaged a customer".
"I told you," says Ryoval, "to chain it with duralloy."
"We did, sir. The chains held; it tore the bolts out of the wall."
"Stun it."
"We have."
"Then punish it suitably when it awakens. A sufficiently long period without food should dull its aggression; its metabolism is unbelievable."
"And the customer?"
"Whatever comforts he asks for. On the House."
"I... don't think he'll be in shape to appreciate them for a while, sir. He's still in the hospital. Unconscious, mercifully -"
"Put," snaps Ryoval, "my personal physician on the case, and I'll take care of the rest when I'm downside, in about six hours. Ryoval out." And that is the end of the call. "Morons. Pardon the interruption, please, Georish. Anyway, can you have her play something?"
"Play something, Nicol," agrees Fell.
Nicol nods, positions herself, and plays, discomfort yielding to a perfect tranquility as she fills the room with music.
Until Ryoval interrupts her. "That's enough - she's precisely as described. My agent described her charms perfectly."
Nicol, frustrated by having to stumble to a halt mid-phrase, jams her dulcimer hammers back into their holders, disgruntled.
"Perhaps you have also received my regrets."
"But my agent was only authorized to negotiate so high - for something so unique there's no substitute for direct contact."
"I enjoy her skills where they are. It's harder at my age to come by enjoyment than money."
"So true. But other enjoyments might suffice. I could arrange something special. Not in the catalog."
"Her musical skills, Ryoval. Which are unique, genuine, not artificial creations to be duplicated in your laboratories."
"My laboratories can duplicate anything."
"Except, by definition, originality."
"Well," says Ryoval. "A tissue sample? It would do her no damage, and you could enjoy her services uninterrupted."
"It would damage her uniqueness. Circulating counterfeits brings down the value of the real thing, you know that, Ry." Fell grins.
"But not for some time. The lead time on a mature clone is at least ten years - ah, but you know that." He bows, apologetically, although he's been impolite.
"Indeed," says Fell coldly.