To thine own self
by Ainzfern
8
Standing just beside the central display dais in the sumptuous main presentation hall of the grand Partia Hotel, Katze smiled slightly and gazed across the room at the gathered throng milling politely about here and there.
The ex-Furniture was a symphony in black tonight. His suit was expensive, but tasteful, cut long to accentuate his broad shoulders and lean waist. His shirt was black silk, high collared with no tie; the only concession to artistic emphasis was a brilliantly white silk scarf, draped elegantly around his neck.
He nearly smirked as he caught sight of himself in the reflection of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded the main hall.
Well, Raoul had said formal, after all...
His internal musing was broken as the object of his thoughts approached him, drinks in hand and an urbane smile firmly in place upon his undeniably beautiful face. "I must admit," Raoul said softly, his glittering green eyes briefly sweeping across the mingling groups of Elites, citizens and their respective Companions and Pets, "the unveiling went even better than I had originally anticipated."
Katze nodded and sipped his drink, sighing discreetly at the simple pleasure of fine bubbles of sweet wine flowing across his taste buds. "I'd agree." He looked up into Raoul's' eyes, sardonic humor on his face. "Although, I've gotta say, the way you suddenly threw over to me during the middle of your introduction speech was a total surprise."
"For you and the Elites in the room no doubt," Raoul's gaze across the rim of his glass was filled with mirth.
"You could have warned me you were going to do that."
"Why?" Raoul shrugged one broad shoulder. "You did an exemplary job, as I knew you would. If there's one thing I have learned you can confidently extol upon, Katze, it is the virtues of technology."
"That's true." Katze snorted gracelessly. "I hope you noticed... I managed to get 'bimolecular' in there, too."
"Twice, if I am recalling correctly."
"Well, I like the word."
"Evidently," Raoul smiled blandly.
"Still," Katze turned and fell into step with the Blondie as Raoul waved a hand towards the open patio outside the function hall, "it was a pretty spontaneous thing for you to do."
Raoul's eyes flicked to him briefly. "You think so?"
"Yeah."
Katze blinked, a little startled, as Raoul sighed softly, his eyes growing distant for moment.
"I used to be the epitome of spontaneous at one time, Katze," Raoul smiled in a perplexed kind of way as they stepped out into the night air. "Not so many years ago, in fact."
Turning to him, his expression showing his interest, Katze paused. "So why aren't you, still?"
Raoul's eyes met his, holding them with a steady intensity. "I grew out of it."
"Huh." Katze nodded, taking another sip from his glass. "Guess that happens to everybody sooner or later."
"Death and taxes, correct?"
"Oh yeah," Katze chuckled. "All of that."
"So, are you enjoying your evening, in spite of the momentary spotlight upon you?" Raoul asked suddenly.
Looking up at that beautiful regal face, watching as the soft breeze shifted strands of dark-gold hair around Raoul's shoulders, Katze considered the question even as he nodded his answer.
Yes.
Yes, he was enjoying himself and Raoul's company this evening, very much indeed. But in a rather unique way. In a way that warmed his chest; a way that almost made him nervous. He wasn't entirely sure what was making this night feel so different, he just knew that it was. Maybe it was the fact that Raoul had actually told him that he meant at least something to him. Maybe it was the fact that he'd also told him he was sorry – something as alien to a true Elite as dancing naked in the rain would be to him. Maybe it was also the fact that Raoul had been informed by one of his Elite colleagues that his association with Katze was unacceptable and yet, here the Blondie was – publicly appearing at a Partia function with the mongrel by his side, and even going to far as to openly acknowledge his contribution to the success of the project.
The federation attaché to General Grace had certainly been impressed. A tall, graying, handsome-faced woman with a certain no-nonsense caste to her features, she had quite noticeably warmed to Raoul following the joint introduction speech.
All that aside, Katze was having a nice time. A rarity for him, so he enjoyed it while it lasted. There was still a part of him that felt tender from Raoul's scathing words three days prior. A part of him that kept reminding himself that this connection, this 'almost-friendship', with the second in command of the Elite Syndicate was only ever going to be a temporary thing. Raoul might be enjoying rubbing his new freedom of choice in his peer's faces for the time being, but Katze knew that eventually that would end. Raoul's standing in the Elite community would suffer too much, the pressure of disapproval would get to him, and it would all be over.
He had no doubt that Iason didn't actually mind. But Iason, as influential as he was, was still only one person. Popular opinion still held a lot of sway with the Elites. Even with the social and legislative changes Iason had implemented on behalf of Jupiter.
"I am pleased, Katze," Raoul was saying, a soft smile still on his face. "And I believe, considering the notion of enjoyment, that I still owe you a tour of the new facility on Tanagura's outskirts..."
Pushing all lingering doubts to one side, Katze felt his mouth literally begin to water. "Bio-mechanical fabrication," he breathed.
Raoul's deep chuckle was vastly amused. "Components for ships and households that actually contain living tissue," he lifted his chin, pride washing across his features. "Consider it, Katze, self-renewing, self-repairing... the potential benefits are enormous."
"And profitable?" Katze arched a wry brow at him.
Raoul mirrored the expression right back at him. "Well, that goes without saying, of course," he murmured urbanely. "I will assess my schedule tomorrow and clear a day for you," Raoul's rich mouth twitched. "I should imagine, with your inquisitive nature, at least that much time will be required."
"Oh, funny."
"I thought so." With a wave of one hand, Raoul indicated the interior of the hall once more. "Possibly time for another round of networking, I feel. Have you got your vocabulary of technical euphemisms wound up properly?"
Snorting softly, secretly delighted by this surprisingly lighter side to the Elite, Katze nodded. "Oh yeah," he replied, confidence infusing his tone. "Lead me to the next victim."
As they both turned and, moving closer together almost unconsciously, strolled back into the function room, neither one of them happened to see the rapidly approaching lights of a hover-bike screaming up the main entranceway to Partia, where a frantic young mongrel was racing desperately up to warn them.
There was something not quite right, Katze decided, as they crossed the hall once more. Some instinct, deeply ingrained within him... perhaps even a basic survival instinct, was suddenly prickling warnings up his spine.
There was danger nearby. He'd lived enough of the hard life to know what it felt like.
Stopping dead, just near the end of the sumptuously laid buffet, Katze stiffened and turned, his sharp eyes scanning the reception hall, looking for anyone who appeared even remotely like they did not belong here.
Beside him, Raoul also stopped and turned, looking at him with concern in his beautiful eyes. "Katze?" he asked softly, tension entering his shoulders as he obviously picked up on Katze's agitation. "What troubles you?"
"I don't know," Katze muttered. His gaze scanned the perimeter of the room. Nothing. Just elegant suits, fine dresses, gorgeous sullen Pets, grand Elites and soberly dressed upper-citizens. Nothing overtly out of place, but still... "There's something not right here, now."
There was a sudden explosion of activity and noise at the main entrance and, as Katze's head snapped around, he saw with astonishment, Riki, followed by a half-dozen Partia security-men, bursting into the room clad in what looked very much like his sleep clothes. "Katze!!" Riki shouted at the top of his voice, pointing wildly at something on the far wall of the hall. "Get down!"
Katze turned, but it was Raoul who reacted.
Time seemed to slow, as Katze saw the exquisitely suited man behind the dining tables already in the act of flicking back his long coat and raising a compact, sleekly evil looking hand-pistol. The breath left his lungs in a sudden rush as Raoul shoved him sharply, sending him sprawling to the floor in a graceless heap, even as the sharp retort of a weapon firing cut the shocked silence of the hall.
He heard Raoul's deep grunt as the projectile evidently meant for him smacked, with a dreadful sound, into Raoul's left shoulder, sending the Elite staggering backwards a few feet; a vivid and horrifying gout of dark blood immediately pouring down one side of his fine white shirt.
Right through Raoul's left shoulder. Right where Katze's head would have been had the Blondie not pushed him out of the way.
He hardly heard the reaction of the crowd, the panicked shouts and screams of the function attendees. He didn't hear the sudden hail of gunfire as the would-be assassin was cut down by the security team's weapons. All he saw, all he knew, was Raoul, moving towards him, hunkering down with something very much like fear on his flawless face, his undamaged arm reaching out to grab his shoulder.
"Katze?!' Raoul's face was white. Something Katze never thought he would live to see on an Elite's face. "Are you injured? Are you hurt?"
Katze blinked, shaking his head. "Me? I'm fine, thanks to you." He gasped in dismay, looking at the dreadful wound in Raoul's shoulder. "Oh God, that looks bad."
Raoul flicked his head dismissively. "It's of no moment."
"No moment?" Katze ripped the white scarf from his neck and folded it quickly, rising to his knees so that he could press the fabric firmly to Raoul's shoulder. "You're bleeding like hell here, Raoul."
Raoul met his eyes once more, his face filled with anger and distress. "Elites are resilient," he muttered, his eyes never breaking from Katze's for a second. "Who was that man?"
"I have no idea."
Raoul's mouth thinned. "I will find out."
"I know."
Raoul touched his face gently, briefly, a fleeting brush of fingertips that Katze felt all the way down to his soul. "If you had been killed, Katze..." he left it hanging, his eyes speaking volumes.
And then there was no more time to talk. Security and medical staff surrounded them, shunting Katze firmly out of the way while they assessed Raoul's wound and applied a field dressing before lifting him onto a gurney and, all the while, Raoul's eyes held Katze's gaze. Peripherally, Katze saw Riki move up beside him, laying one hand on his shoulder and asking him if he was okay.
Katze hardly heard him.
Even as the medic team strapped him securely into the gurney, Raoul's eyes did not break their hold. They continued to stare, intense and blazing, filled with a wealth of emotion, directly into Katze's face; compelling him to meet them.
It was only once the med-team had taken Raoul from the hall that Katze released the breath he'd been holding; actually felt able to look away.
Riki shook him gently. "C'mon, man," his said softly. "They're taking him to the Eos Med-centre. If we go on my hover-bike, we'll probably beat 'em there."
Shaking... shaken... Katze nodded and followed Riki from the hall.
To thine own self – chapter 7 << >> To thine own self – chapter 9