Eros Descending: Book 3 of Tales of the Velvet Comet by Mike Resnick

explain the more onerous clauses, and then turn them over to his legal staff to see if they were actually valid or if there was a chance that the courts might overturn them.
    The training sessions were another matter, however.
    There was some awfully strong footage in there, some things that people who were morally weaker than himself had no right to see. Probably the best thing to do was review it thoroughly and decide what could and could not be disseminated to the masses.
    With an unsteady voice, he ordered the computer to bring the training sessions up for his dispassionate analysis.
    He spent the next two hours staring, unblinking, at the holographic images.
    “Welcome back, Tom,” said the imp. “We've been waiting for you.”
    “What am I doing here?” demanded Gold, lowering his hands to hide the evidence of his arousal.
    “You fell asleep at the computer,” answered the imp with an amused laugh.
    “Where's the unicorn?” asked Gold. “The one that looks like the racehorse?”
    “He's not in this dream.”
    “But he's always here,” protested Gold. “I want to ride him.”
    “I thought you couldn't remember your dreams, Tom,” said the imp.
    “Now I can,” said Gold, flustered.
    “Well, we seem to be cutting out the preliminaries this time—but don't ask me why. After all, it's your dream, not mine.”
    “Where are they?” asked Gold, trying to hide his eagerness.
    “Where are who?” asked the imp with a grin.
    “You know.”
    “No I don't, Tom,” answered the elf teasingly. “Tell me who you're talking about.”
    “I can't.”
    “Then I can't help you.”
    “You've got to!” said Gold desperately. “Corinne will wake me up any minute!”
    “All right, Tom,” said the imp. “Because I'm your friend, I'll help you out. Just tell me who you want to see and what you want them to do when they get here.”
    ’”I can't.”
    “Sure you can. It's written all over your face already.”
    “Please don't make me do it!” begged Gold.
    “No choice, Tom. You'd better hurry up—I think Corinne's starting to stir.”
    And Gold, tears of humiliation running down his face, told the imp exactly what he wanted to happen next, and prayed that God's attention was momentarily directed elsewhere.

Chapter 6

    Richard Constantine stepped out of the elevator and into Fiona Bradley's new office, which was on the 140th floor of the Vainmill Building. A polished buttonwood desk, the largest he had ever seen, dominated the room. There were six chairs, all more comfortable than the ones on the eighty-sixth floor, and a number of ashtrays as well—another thing that had been missing from the former chairman's office. The beige carpet was plush and deep, and one of the interior walls housed a functional fireplace, one of the few he had seen on Deluros VIII, where wood was in short supply and environmentalists were in political ascendancy. A long section of one wall had been replaced with floor-to-ceiling windows, affording a view of the city very similar to that in Fiona's apartment two floors above.
    He checked his timepiece to make sure that he wasn't early, shrugged, and began looking at some of the memorabilia on the walls. There were holographs of Fiona, at various stages of her career, usually in the company of some political or financial celebrity, as well as holos of her long-dead husband and two grown sons. On a shelf to the left of the fireplace was a leather-bound copy of the financial thesis that had earned her her doctorate; it was flanked by the diploma itself, and a plaque declaring her to be the honorary governor of Gamma Leporis IX, a mining world which had been abandoned until she found a way to make it profitable.
    He was still examining holographs and certificates when Fiona entered the room.
    “Good afternoon, Richard,” she said. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting.”
    “Only a couple of minutes,” he said.
    “I had a meeting with the head of Manufacturing, and it went a little