Free The Library of Forgotten Books by Rjurik Davidson Page B

entertainments you have provided this evening.”
    A young, fresh-faced Officiate, who seemed to have a permanent smirk, looked at Anton. “So Moreau, is it true you’ve dedicated your life to the search for pleasure?”
     “That is something of an exaggeration—no one can seek pleasure solely. There are a great number of other things that one must consider. The point is to turn those other things to the service of pleasure. One acquires money—but what for?”
    Lefebvre spoke and the room fell silent. “Loyalty, for example. Anton has always been faithful, hasn’t he, Jean-Paul?”
    Lefebvre’s adjutant nodded silently. There was something about Jean-Paul that unnerved Anton. He could not imagine the adjutant enjoying anything at all. The man was a House fanatic: drawn from the impoverished countryside, narrow-minded and brutal. There was something mechanical about him.
    When Lefebvre spoke again, the room filled with tension. “It’s a precious commodity, is it not? What do you think, Villiers?”
    Villiers’ skin acquired a slicker sheen and the other Officiates looked on with anxious curiosity—something was happening.
    “I could not agree more.” Villiers turned back to Anton, and changed the subject. “But I wanted to ask Moreau something. I understand that gratificationists seek escape in Lika-flowers and other such drugs.”
    These were not real philosophers, thought Anton. They did not seek to uncover the truth beneath appearances. They were pragmatists—petty men concerned with the day-to-day running of the House. But Lefebvre had already indicated to him that he was not solely here for a discussion. He was here for work. “What I seek by such experiences is not escape from the world, but an even greater experience of it. I seek new and ever more intense cognizance of things.”
    “And what pleasures do you seek tonight ?” The young man smiled lasciviously.
    “Why, whatever pleasures offer themselves .” Anton turned his hands up, smiling.
    Lefebvre spoke slowly, fixing Villiers with his eyes. “And what do you think, Villiers, of the rumours that there are Technis agents in our midst?”
    Villiers looked at Lefebvre and his face twitched. “They are...surely rumours.” Silence now hung like a mist in the room and Villiers looked from Officiate to Officiate for affirmation. When none was forthcoming he glanced at Lefebvre. “Surely you don’t think...”
    Lefebvre nodded to Anton and then at Villiers who, seeing the gesture, blurted out, “No!”
    In a blur, Anton had somersaulted onto the floor in front of Villiers. His hands emerged from beneath his coat clutching stilettos. In an instant he stood up, just as Villiers himself did. For a moment Anton and the Officiate stood eye to eye before Anton plunged his knives beneath the man’s ribs. Villiers’ eyes bulged and he grabbed Anton’s forearms and held them tight as his face contorted. His body shuddered and he dropped to his knees. Anton watched as the man’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes slowly became flat surfaces without depth. When he was gone, Anton laid him gently face forward on the floor.
    The still smirking young Officiate looked from Anton to Lefebvre. “As Villiers himself said, what a wonderful collection of entertainment you have provided tonight, Director.”

    Anton was relieved when he left the smoking room. It had been an unwelcome distraction; he had other business to pursue. He entered the ballroom. Leaning against the wall with her bird-like husband was Madame Demoul. She smiled at him and looked at her feet.
    Anton turned away and saw her : he wove between the dancers until he came close to the childlike woman. One of her friends looked quickly at him and back to her friend. Without acknowledging the other ladies, he stepped forward and asked, “Would the lady like to dance?”
    A slight surprised smile appeared on her face. Without waiting for a reply, Anton took her hand and led her towards the