Free Conflict of Interest by Jayne Castle

astonishment into an empty hall. There was no one behind the door.
    „You are most welcome. Please come in.“
    The metallic, monotone voice emanating from somewhere near the level of her waist made Kali gasp and jump back a step, one hand going instinctively to her startled, open mouth.
    A stocky, rounded creature of metal and plastic stood blinking at her with a cameralike eye. It held open the door with a metal claw which consisted of three fingerlike attachments. As she looked down at it in mingled surprise and rueful acceptance of the extent of Lang’s eccentricity, the brightly painted creature rolled backward into the hall, obviously inviting her inside.
    „Th… thank you. I think,“ Kali managed, telling herself that what she was viewing wasn’t really all that unexpected. The technology for this sort of thing certainly existed. Who should know that better than she? Good grief, anyone who didn’t believe in robots owed himself a trip to Disneyland where they could be seen in action any day of the week! For that matter, they had even been made available in the Christmas catalog of an exclusive Texas department store. The ultimate toy for the person who had everything…
    She was stepping slowly over the threshold, staring in fascination at the small robot, when Lang appeared, wiping his hands briskly on a kitchen towel.
    „Ah, there she is! Thanks, Nalg, you can go back to the kitchen.
    Come on into the living room, Madame Vice-President, I’ve got a nice warming glass of wine waiting for you. It’s cold out there!“
    „I wonder if you could perhaps avoid calling me by that particular title for the remainder of the evening.“ In spite of her resolve, Kali’s teeth had set in annoyance at his blithe words.
    „Of course, of course! What title would you prefer?“ He grinned wickedly, leading her into a room which proved another surprise for Kali. It was furnished with some of the best antiques she had ever seen.
    The house, she quickly observed, had not been done with any one period in mind. Instead, it looked as if the dominant goal had been to create a warm background aimed at providing a man with great comfort. Heavy, solid furniture, a lot of polished wooden table surfaces littered with magazines, and a cheerfully blazing fireplace comprised an extraordinarily comfortable room with an undertone of romantic age. Underneath an Oriental carpet provided a subtle, exotic touch.
    The place was also quite clean. Kali wondered how much of that was due to the little robot’s efforts. A creature like that could prove useful around the house!

    „How about calling me by my name?“ she responded dryly to Lang’s question. She took one of the high-backed wing chairs which would have looked at home in the library of a nineteenth-century English house and slanted a glance at her host.
    „Kali it is,“ he agreed, coming toward her with a glass of wine he had poured at an Irish mahogany sideboard. He handed her the crystal glass and raised his own in a polite gesture.
    In this old-fashioned, rather romantic room, his eyes looked quite green, Kali thought vaguely as she followed his lead and took a sip of the heavy, dark wine. The gleaming color behind the thick lashes made her uneasy in a way she was at a loss to describe. He seemed to fit the room, came an unbidden realization. There was an other-world, other-age look to him which was hard to define. The white cotton broadcloth shirt was sufficiently twentieth century but there was something about the way he wore it: open-collared with square, gold cuff links, which gave him a faintly piratical appearance. The dark slacks were unabashedly close-fitting and the soft leather belt had a bold, embossed buckle. The polished toe of a dark leather dress boot gleamed beneath the bottom edge of the pants.
    What was really beginning to bother her, Kali decided grimly, wasn’t the way Lang Sterling looked, but what her imagination tended to do with his appearance! Why