Excerpt: Project Cassandra

He wasn't an offworlder, but he wasn't dressed like most of the residents of Lower Haven, who favored--of necessity--worn, plain work clothes. He wasn't tall, but was had a large belly that swelled underneath his smartly pressed--if slightly faded--deep blue suit. He also wore a jaunty purple bowtie and a bowler hat, which he removed as he approached. Rhiannon stared at him openly as he cleared his throat ceremoniously and rocked forward on his toes, his gazed focused over the boat instead of on any of them.

He cleared his throat again. "Ahem. Permission to come aboard?"

Jirik stared at him as though he were a particularly ridiculous breed of bird--like the pictures of flamingos Rhiannon had once seen in a book. "Ah--come aboard?" he said.

In an instant, the strange man's eyes snapped to Jirik, as though they had been waiting for permission to look, and a broad smile spread over his face as he stepped onto the raft, causing it to rock gently. "Mr. Jirik, I presume?" The man's eyes darted to Rhiannon for the briefest instant before focusing fully on Jirik. "Is that a surname or a given name?"

"It's just Jirik." The big man looked deeply bemused, leaning forward in his seat and removing his pipe from his mouth thoughtfully, as though trying to think of an elusive word. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, just Jirik. Excellent. And I am Clarence Colombo, proprietor of the Castle Colombo--you've heard of it?" He paused, bowler still clasped before him, and looked at Jirik expectantly.

"Should I have?" Jirik asked.

Clarence Colombo looked dismayed by Jirik's lack of appropriate enthusiasm. "Should you have! She's only the third-largest showboat in operation on Felix Harbor today! Home to Colombo's Charming Cherry Blossom Chorus, and Felicity Gantz, a first class entertainer if ever there was one, not to mention a peerless selection of games to challenge the skill and luck of all contenders."

He waved his bowler theatrically and beamed proudly as he spoke, but even as his mouth and hands performed, his gaze kept slipping from Jirik to Rhiannon, something keen and greedy in his eyes. It made Rhiannon extremely uncomfortable, and she tried not to squirm in her seat. Cole must have noticed the looks as well, because he stiffened and glared at the man suspiciously. Jirik just shook his head slowly.

"No," he said. "I haven't heard of it."

Clarence Colombo deflated a little, but only for a fraction of a second before regaining his former aplomb. "Well, Mr. Jirik, I have business proposition to make you, which I'm very confident you will be most pleased to hear--a mutually beneficial arrangement to propose, you know. Is there some place we can talk in private?"

"Ah--" Jirik raised his eyebrows, and glanced at the raft's single-room cabin, with its paper thin walls. "There's not really--"

"Excellent!" Clarence Colombo said, "we can just step inside for a moment, and I promise I won't take up any more of your time than is absolutely necessary--after you, sir."