Given the legal ramifications, the expectations of families, the pressures of society, and the permanence of marriage, very few people attempted to find their own mates. It was understood that judgments made in the heat of passion were not to be trusted, which was not to say that passion was forbidden. On the contrary, affairs were quite common before marriage and were known to occur after the event as well. Discretion was expected from everyone involved.
The guiding principle behind the actions of responsible people was Don't Embarrass the Family.
The founders had been far more concerned with the stability of the social structure than with individual happiness. Nevertheless, for the sake of the institutions they valued so much, they had tried to ensure a high percentage of reasonably contented couples.
To that end, they had established marriage agencies staffed with trained synergistic psychologists to help individuals choose mates wisely and well. Although marital alliances based on such ancient considerations as property and family connections occasionally took place among the very wealthy, most people registered with matchmaking agencies when the time came to get serious.
It was considered remarkably stupid to even consider contracting such a formal and terribly permanent alliance without the assistance of a good counselor and a respected agency.
Lucas followed Amaryllis out the front door. 'I'm registered with Synergistic Connections myself.'
'I'm not surprised.' Amaryllis paused to activate the jelly-ice lock on her door. 'It's not as though either of us has a lot of choice, is it? There are only a couple of agencies in New Seattle that handle high-class talents and full- spectrum prisms.'
Lucas slanted her an enigmatic glance as he guided her to the sleek sports car parked at the curb. 'No one will suspect you're a full-spectrum prism tonight. After all, I'm a class nine, and everyone knows that no agency would match a nine with a strong prism.'
Amaryllis smiled very sweetly as she got into the car. 'High-class talents are notoriously difficult to match with anyone, prism or non-prism. They tend to be arrogant and overbearing.'
'It's common knowledge that full-spectrum prisms aren't any easier to match,' Lucas said. 'Too damn picky.'
Chapter 3
Lucas stood with Amaryllis at the far end of the museum hall and tried to keep his attention on Miranda Locking and Merrick Beech. It wasn't easy tracking their progress through the crowded room. The task was turning out to be ten times more complicated than it should have been because Amaryllis's dress kept moving. She looked as if she were enveloped in a cloud of brilliant butterflies. Every move she made distracted him from his mission.
The fluttering dress annoyed Lucas. He had contracted to pay an outrageous sum for a trained, experienced prism. In his considered opinion, Amaryllis was anything but professional this evening. She looked provocative, enticing, and, on top of everything else, she smelled good.
'Have you spotted Miss Locking?' Amaryllis asked as she bent to examine the artifacts in one of the display cases.
'They're on opposite sides of the room, but they're making their way toward each other.'
She peered at one of the strangely shaped objects in the case. It was made of a silvery green metal. Shaped something like a flashlight, it had no obvious light source. 'Let me know when you're ready to link. In the meantime I'm going to get a good look at these relics. I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be among the first people to see the exhibition. I thought I'd have to wait months to get tickets.'
'I'm glad one of us is having a good time,' Lucas muttered.
'Once in a while my job brings a few really terrific fringe benefits,' she said cheerfully. 'This is definitely one of those occasions.'
'Nice to meet someone who enjoys her work.'
'Oh, I do. When I left my position at the university six months ago, I wasn't at all certain that I would ever be happy in business. No offense, but I assumed that the commercial world would be rather uninspiring.'
'It has its moments.'
She glanced at him, her eyes wide and unexpectedly intent. 'It certainly has had a few interesting moments for you. You've lead a very exciting life, Mr. Trent.'
'Lucas.'
She smiled. 'Call me Amaryllis.'
'Amaryllis. Don't tell me, let me guess. Your parents got caught up in the craze for old Earth flower names, right?'
To his surprise, the glow of interest in her eyes faded. It was replaced by an expression of cool politeness. 'My aunt once told me that my mother chose Amaryllis because she wanted a name that would be exotic enough to make me dream my own dreams.'
'And have you dreamed your own dreams?'
Amaryllis lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. 'Sometimes one has to pay for other people's dreams.'
'I'm not big on cryptic statements. What in the five hells does that mean?'
'Nothing.' She gave him a bracing smile. 'Sorry. Didn't mean to get deep and mysterious. Maybe these relics are having an effect on my mood.'
Lucas frowned. 'Why did you leave the university?'
'You know how it is.' She turned back to the display case. 'People change. I felt it was time to try a new direction in my career.'
Lucas was the first to acknowledge that he had no great gift for intuition, but he had a strong suspicion that there was a lot more to the story than Amaryllis implied. He wondered if a man had been involved. Then he wondered why he should care if the answer was yes.
Wrong place, wrong time, wrong woman.
'What is Miss Locking doing now?' Amaryllis asked.
Lucas scanned the crowd and spotted Miranda. 'She just stopped to shake Madison Sheffield's hand.'
The professional detachment vanished from Amaryllis's gaze in a heartbeat. 'Madison Sheffield is here tonight?'
'Just one thrill after another when you focus for me.'
She ignored the sarcasm. 'Where is he?'
'Who? Sheffield? Over there by the buffet table.' Lucas gave her a sidelong glance. The keen interest in her face irritated him. Everything about her was beginning to bother him, he concluded. The sooner this evening was over, the better. 'You can't miss him. He looks like he's trying to sell used cars.'
'Don't be rude.' Amaryllis stood on tiptoe in an effort to see over the heads of the crowd. 'Madison Sheffield will very likely be our next governor.'
'Probably won't be any worse than the present governor,' Lucas said philosophically.
He was well aware of who Madison Sheffield was. His secretary had instructions to toss the unending stream of solicitation letters from the ambitious city-state senator's office. It was nothing personal. She also had orders to chuck the campaign fund requests from the incumbent, Tyier Wingate. Lucas was not particularly interested in politics or politicians.
But he was not surprised to learn that Amaryllis was excited by the sight of Madison Sheffield. It figured, he told himself. Sheffield was just the sort of politician who would attract the vote of an upright, prissy little prism who was overly concerned with ethics and other vague academic matters.
Sheffield was making a bid for the governor's seat on the Founders' Values ticket. He was running on a platform that emphasized a return to the supposedly sterling virtues of the First Generation colonists. People were responding to the Sheffield campaign in droves. The man had charisma.
'He's even more impressive in person than he is on television,' Amaryllis declared.
Lucas eyed the senator. It was fair to say that Sheffield was tall, lean, and possessed of a nose and brow that would have done credit to any founder. His aquiline features gave the impression of a man who was ascetic in
