Ballistic (The Palladium Wars), стр. 73
A great place to visit for a week, she thought as she looked out onto the streets. But I don’t think I could live here for good. I’d miss being able to sit under a tree and listen to nothing but the wind rustling the leaves.
Being in the most densely populated city in the system had its advantages. When she checked her hotel compad for service directories, there was an unending amount of choice. Everything she could ever need to buy or rent could be found within a few blocks from the hotel, even the sort of services that weren’t plentiful or easy to find in Sandvik. It seemed logical that a place where physical privacy was a luxury would offer so many ways to have virtual privacy, fuss-free ways to indulge in a desire anonymously.
There were hundreds of pleasure-companion services in Coriolis City. She went through the talent lists of a few of the most highly rated ones, filtered them by the ability to understand Gretian without a translator, and picked a face she liked out of the dozens of choices. For what she had in mind, she would need someone who wouldn’t need to rely on the AI of his translator software to understand her intent. She checked her schedule and booked the visit in the middle of her free time slot before dinner, with several hours comfortably buffering the time between the appointment and her evening obligation. When she was finished, she flicked up a screen from her comtab and called Cuthbert to her suite. He rang her door chime a minute later.
“Yes, Miss Ragnar?”
“I have made some plans for the afternoon, Cuthbert. I need a little relaxation after all the sitting and talking this morning. There will be someone here for me in thirty minutes. I will need you to do a security screening.”
“We usually use vetted services that have been approved by the security division beforehand, Miss Ragnar.”
“Cuthbert, I am not the High Chancellor of Gretia. Nobody is out to assassinate me. And this isn’t the kind of service we usually have vetted by corporate. It’s someone from a companion agency.”
Cuthbert showed only the mildest hint of surprise on his face, but he didn’t even blink at her revelation.
“Apologies, ma’am, but you’re wrong about that. It’s the most common category on the list for Acheron expenses. Right after food and drink providers.”
What happens off-world stays off-world, she heard her father’s voice. Thanks for the tip, Papa.
“Sorry I jumped the gun, then,” she said.
“May I see the service listing?”
She brought it up on the hotel compad and flicked it over to his device. He consulted it only briefly.
“Oh, they’re on the approved vendor list,” he said. “That won’t be a problem.”
“Good. Just don’t tell Marten I made the booking before checking with you. I’ll remember next time.”
“No trouble at all, Miss Ragnar. Just call me when you get the notice from the front desk, and I’ll be right over.”
He smiled curtly and left the suite again. Solveig waited until the door had closed behind him. Then she picked up her comtab and looked for a suitable place for her plan. The best spots were in a private business, out of view of the public surveillance systems. It had to be a location that was neither too crowded nor too empty, so she could keep an eye on everything but not stick out too much. And it had to be a place where foreign faces were common and didn’t draw special attention.
There was a capsule diner just three blocks away. It sat right on one of the major thoroughfares to the nearby recreational complex, and the guest data showed that it was usually half-full at this time of day. Even the food was well reviewed. Solveig noted the address and sent it on to Aden with a message.
There’s a diner not too far from my hotel. Meet me there in an hour if you can. I may be a few minutes early or late. But I’ll be there.
As soon as her message had disappeared off her comtab and into the Mnemosyne, Solveig felt a wave of anxiety well up and twist her stomach. If all went as planned, she’d see her brother in the flesh again in just sixty minutes. The jitters she suddenly experienced were worse than any she had ever felt. Playing cat-and-mouse games with corporate security didn’t even register on the scale in comparison. But there was a wild sort of joy to this tension that was never present when she pulled one over on Marten and his crew, or even when she managed to sneak something past her father. Solveig sat down on the lounge chair by the window and forced herself to take slow breaths and get control of her emotions. If she let her nervousness show too much, even Cuthbert would sense that something was