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lecture about the facts of life and death, but instead she caught sight of
something behind Conrad, and her face pinched into a scowl.
What are you doing? Hey!What are you doing?
Conrad turned and saw a trio of oversized robots marching toward them: two in
front, and one behind them pulling a wheeled dolly of some sort. And on the
dolly was the fax machine number 449 in which Conrad had just refreshed
himself. This by itself was not surprising; there were all kinds of robots
around here, pushing and pulling and carrying things. But these particular
robots were Palace Guards dainty ones with frilled tutus around their waists
and necks, like something from the earliest days of the Queendom.
When they spoke, Conrad couldn t tell if it was one voice or three. In any
case, they said, Brenda Bohobe, President of the Bohobe Plate Manufactory, we
bring you the greetings of King Bascal. You are cordially invited to join him
at a palace dinner party tonight.
What are you doing? Brenda repeated, pointing at the fax machine just in
case they somehow failed to take her meaning. That belongs to the Bupsville
hospital.
This device, the robots said, has been impounded on the authority of King
Bascal. No further information is available at this time.
That s absurd, she said tightly. It s not his. It s not even finished! It
has force/speed tests still to go, and
Our records show that this device was employed on a volunteer who is not a
Manufactory employee. Therefore, it is working. Therefore, it is impounded.
Brenda Bohobe, you are to come with us.
Am I under arrest? she demanded.
You are invited, they told her, in an inflectionless tone which
nevertheless managed to imply that the two words were, if not identical in
meaning, then at least close enough for government purposes.
Here now, Conrad told them, though he knew it was pointless, you can t
just barge in here and take things. Do you realize how valuable that machine
is?
One of the robots swiveled its head to face him and said, Conrad Mursk,
First Architect of Barnard. You have a standing invitation at the palace, and
will please accompany us.
I don t think so, he said, even though confronting Bascal was exactly what
he should probably do right now. He just wanted to see what the robots would
say, what they would do. He wouldn t take orders from them, not in this
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lifetime, not even if they were ordering him to do something rational.
Fortunately, they spared him any further concerns on the matter by pointing a
tazzer beam at him and flashing him senseless.
chapter twenty
the feast of permanence
The palace dining room was not large, as such things go. Itheld a single long
table with seating for twenty, plus some additional wellstone chairs along the
walls so that, Conrad supposed, people could come to watch their betters eat.
Well, maybe that was unfair. If he were going to sell that feature as part of
a building design, he would call it buffet seating, good for informal
parties and such. Which he supposed this gathering probably was. And this
roomwas , he reminded himself, part of a building he had personally designed!
There were no decorations or lighting fixtures per se, because the walls and
floor and ceiling were all made of wellstone. Light and windows could appear
anywhere. But this by itself had become a rare thing on P2, and its novelty
was not lost on Conrad now, especially since the programming was all new. The
surfaces emitted a soft glow, with cleverly subtle spotlights shining down
onto the table itself. Looking up at the ceiling he found it difficult to see
precisely where they were coming from.
The shadows were carefully controlled as well, while stained-glass windows
along the north wall admitted just enough natural light, in just the right mix
of colors, to lend a picnic air to the proceedings. The windows were
nonrepresentational, and shifted slowly from one pattern to another. This,
too, was a quaintly decadent touch, and showed good taste. Princess Wendy s,
apparently.
Brenda s stolen fax machine a great, gray slab surrounded by exposed piping
and circuitry dominated one end of the room, with Bascal sitting before it at
the head of the table. To his great surprise Conrad found himself seated at
the foot of the table, a position of honor to be sure, and in spite of the
manner of his arrival he could not help feeling flattered. At the king s left
was Princess Wendy, and beside her, to Conrad s additional surprise, was Mack.
Conrad would never forget the initial meeting between those two: throbbing
with subdued passion that seemed destined to burn itself out within a few
weeks. He hadn t stuck around to see the end of that kiddie relationship, but
he had never doubted that itwould end. Until now. Funny; he d traded a dozen
messages with Mack over the years, checking up on his old business, his old
protégé, but Mack had never once mentioned the princess. And yet the way he
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