The Dark Lady

like you.”
    “Doubtless they belonged to a different House,” I said.
    “They were green and black, and their skins seemed to be covered by endless patterns of concentric circles.”
    “That would be the House of Ilsthni,” I said. “They are jewelers.”
    “Right,” he said with a smile. “Anyway, I'm pleased to meet you, Leonardo. I'm Valentine Heath.”
    “May I ask you a question, Mr. Heath?” I said, I was about to address him as “Friend Valentine,” but I decided against the Dialect of Affinity until I could determine how and why he had broken into my suite.
    “Of course— and call me Valentine.”
    “Why are you here, Mr. Heath?”
    “Valentine,” he corrected me. “I thought you might have some difficulty locating my address. It's my understanding that you've never been to Charlemagne before, and Oceana's got a pretty complex street grid and an absolutely nonsensical numbering system.”
    “I seem not to be making myself clear, Mr. Heath,” I said. “Why are you here in my room?”
    “I hope you don't think it insensitive of me, Leonardo, but there are four entrances to the hotel. I was afraid I might choose the wrong one and miss you.”
    “But the security lock is coded to my voiceprint. How did you get in?”
    “Never trust security locks, Leonardo,” he said with a smile. “Any maid or bellman can gain entrance to it. If I were you, I'd leave my valuables in the hotel safe.” He paused. “Can I fix you a drink?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Something to eat, perhaps? Room service offers quite a large selection and they deliver within ten minutes.”
    “No, thank you.”
    “Well, then, why don't you relax and we'll just have a pleasant visit.”
    “I am not tired,” I said. “Perhaps I could see the painting now.”
    “Later,” he said. “Let's get to know each other first.”
    Suddenly I began to feel very uneasy in the presence of a man who had broken through my suite's security system and seemed totally uninterested in showing me the painting that I had come all this way to appraise.
    “Let us get to know each other while walking around your city,” I suggested. “I found it quite fascinating as I drove through it.”
    “It really doesn't come to life until after dark,” he replied. “If you want to see Oceana, you must wait until the sun goes down.”
    I didn't want to alert him to my fears, but it seemed imperative that I leave the suite and surround myself with witnesses to whatever fate he had in store for me.
    “While on the spaceliner from Far London, Friend Valentine,” I said, emphasizing the form of address, “I read that Oceana has an outstanding art museum. If it is open, perhaps we can go there.”
    He shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you, Leonardo, but it's been closed for renovations.”
    “How can that be?” I said. “The article said that it was built only two years ago.”
    “It seems that someone robbed it last week, and they're installing a more sophisticated security system.” He walked over to a chair and sat down. “So why don't we just spend the afternoon here?”
    I stared at him for a moment, looking for telltale bulges in his clothing that would signify the presence of a weapon. I could not discern any, but I realized that it didn't matter anyway: He was far larger and stronger than I was.
    Mustering my courage, I said: “Friend Valentine, my luggage has not yet arrived. I think I should go back down to the lobby to make sure that it has not been misplaced.”
    “The porter will be bringing it along any minute now,” he assured me. “He's probably loaded it onto a cart with a bunch of other bags, and is dropping them off one room at a time.”
    “Nevertheless,” I said, “I have some personal belongings that are quite dear to me.”
    He pointed to the hotel intercom console. “If you're really worried about it, call up the reception desk and see if your luggage is on its way.”
    “I would feel much more secure if I were to go in person,” I said truthfully, edging a step toward the door.
    He shrugged. “If you're that worried, go ahead.”
    “You don't intend to stop me?” I blurted out.
    He seemed amused at the idea. “Why should I want to stop you?”
    “I thought... that is, it seemed... ” Flustered and embarrassed, I was unable to form a cogent sentence.
    “Are you all right?” he asked. “You just changed colors.”
    “It is the Hue of Humiliation,” I explained. “I thought, for some