Звезда Пандоры

So at midday she stood under a rose-covered gazebo receiving guests who rolled up in modern limousines or fabulous antique cars. She paid no attention to the vehicles; her interest in one-upmanship among Society had been exhausted centuries ago—although she had to own up to a certain awareness when it came to who was wearing what. Costumes were supposed to be themed from around the 1950s, and the pavilions set up across the garden’s high lawn reflected that. Waiters in period uniforms served cocktails from the era.

For herself, Justine had chosen a formal sea-green evening dress with a mermaid tail skirt. She drew the line at heels on the grass, though.

A ’56 Oldsmobile pulled up, and Estella slowly got out of the back.

“What on earth happened to you?” Justine asked as her friend limped over to the gazebo. Estella was wearing a scarlet dress with white polka dots, and pink winged sunglasses. Instead of shoes, she was wearing a pair of electromuscle support boots.

Estella gave her a brief kiss on both cheeks. “I’m so sorry to spoil the look of the thing, darling. But I went and sprained both ankles. It was hideously painful, I kid you not.”

“How did you do that?”

“So silly. I was dancing on the coffee table at a party. When I jumped off I landed badly. I don’t understand it, darling, I’ve danced on that table a hundred times, and nothing like this ever happened before.”

Justine didn’t scold, it would have been far too parental. “I never get asked to parties like that anymore.”

“I should think not, Senator, you have a reputation to consider now.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s people like you I need support from.”

“I know, darling.” Estella laid her hand on Justine’s arm. “How’s it going? Is it really awful?”

“Thompson had an excellent staff team. I just vote the way they tell me to. I haven’t started doing deals myself yet. It’s just a temporary appointment, after all, though the senators did give me a unanimous vote to carry on his representation. Even his opponents endorsed me, I think they were all shocked, or running scared. Nobody’s ever killed a senator before; this was supposed to send a message to the killer that you can’t stop politicians like this. So all I’m doing is basically holding the fort till he gets out of the clinic.”

“Be brave.”

“You know me.” She gave a brittle laugh.

“Do they know who did it yet?”

“No. Nor why. It’s all so stupid. Who kills people in this day and age? We’re not in the barbarian era anymore.”

Estella plucked at her dress. “We are this afternoon.”

“Yeah. Are you staying for the play tonight? It’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The Tolthorpe actors are supposed to be very good, and the gardeners have built an open-air stage in front of the lower beech woods.”

“I’m not walking off anywhere, darling. A stiff drink and a decent-looking first-life waiter is what I need.”

“Good, I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Sure thing. Now, is this Murielle?”

“Of course.” Justine introduced her friend to the girl and her fiancé who were waiting on the other side of the gazebo. Murielle was wearing a copy of the white dress Marilyn Monroe had on in The Seven Year Itch. And carried it off well, Justine had to admit. She did have a fabulous figure; and with it such a wondrously sunny disposition that Justine had to acknowledge how old and jaded she truly was nowadays despite wearing a body of young flesh. Young Starral Konstantin was so obviously smitten as he stood at her side, the two of them holding hands the entire time. Simply being around them was wearying to Justine. For ages she’d been swept along by Murielle’s ingenue enthusiasm for her fiancé, and the party, and the marriage, and their future life together, and the many children she wanted to produce (with natural pregnancies—for God’s sake) for her handsome beau. It had been a marvelous distraction helping the girl plan everything; Murielle had been living at the Tulip Mansion for the five months since she finished Yale. Even the Primes and the navy were just parallel subjects.

Then some lunatic had killed Thompson.

Why?

And now she had to be tough and resolute the way everyone expected a senior Burnelli to behave, when all she really wanted to do was put her arms around her little brother and cuddle him like she used to do when she was five years old and he was a baby.

“Are you all right, Grandee?” Murielle asked.

To her horror, Justine realized her eyes were moistening. Not now, goddamnit! “Coping,” she said staunchly. “I just remember him every now and then. That’s all.”

Murielle put her arms around Justine. It was such a childlike gesture, spontaneous and genuine, that Justine was in danger of sobbing out loud. “It’s all right, Grandee,” Murielle said softly. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Justine nodded appreciatively, wanting to escape from Murielle’s big concerned smile. “Sorry, I’m ruining this for you.”

“We’re family, Grandee. That means accepting the rough with the smooth, and standing together through all of it.”