A tiny whistle sounded from the doorway. She saw a flicker of light there, whirling in circles near the latch.
"Coming," she said. As she went to the door, Livia kept Esther's anima beside her. "I'll go speak to him," she said. "In person. Maybe he has a good explanation for this."
Esther nodded. "I won't downgrade his anima until I hear from you, then," she said tartly. Livia nodded and dismissed the phantom.
Her two favorite agents were waiting at the door. Since they were not physically real, but rather images painted on her senses by her neural implants, she could make them look like anything she wanted. She'd always, had them appear as tiny faeries. The first one, Peaseblossom, said, "You were very busy last night!" in a pipsqueak voice. Cicada muscled Peaseblossom out of the way and proclaimed, "You were all over the place!" And in unison: "We think you're in trouble!"
"Oh, great," she said. "What did I do?"
"Jachman and his friends were scheming against Rene," said Peaseblossom, his wings a blur. "They didn't know you have the hots for him."
"I do not!"
"You do. Jachman had your anima open while he was talking to the others, and you challenged him."
"To a dueir Livia groaned and put her hand to her forehead. "I did what?"
"That's not all!" Cicada puffed out his little chest in pride. "At the self-same time, you were defending Aaron's honor at a party across town!"
"The duel," she pressed. "What happened with the duel?" She strolled down the manor's marble steps, following the scent of fresh bacon that was drifting toward her.
"You fought Jachman, and he killed you," said Peaseblossom. "It's gonna cost you."
It certainly would. She was bound to lose some authority over this spat. If she'd been there in person ...
She dismissed the idea as wishful thinking. If her anima had fought a duel, then Livia herself almost certainly would have done so had she been there in its place. Ani-mas might only be imitations of people, but they were very accurate imitations.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to have to visit that incident. You've got it ready for me?"
"Any time you say."
"After breakfast, then."
Cicada made an exaggerated gesture of toeing the ground (he was a meter in the air). "Well, I'm not sure you'll have the time," he said reluctantly.
"What do you mean?" She stopped and glared at the little man. "What else did I do last night?"
"You made a date with Lucius Xavier," said Cicada.
She gaped at him.
Peaseblossom elbowed his companion fiercely. "Not a date," he hissed. "Xavier's not that kind of friend." He cleared his throat and smiled up at Livia. "You agreed to meet him here this morning. In person, that is. You're going hunting Impossibles, remember?"
"No, I ... " Oh. Was that what his visit had been about?
To be strictly polite, Livia should not have had her Society up during last night's soiree. After all, she was a physical guest of the Romanal estate, not just a virtual visitor. She owed her host and hostess her undivided attention at least during supper. Their daughter's confirmation as a true citizen of Westerhaven was important to them and Livia's own family had ties with theirs going back generations.
So she had gone through supper and cocktails completely present, and sung her set with her Society absent. Only afterward had she answered
the urgent summons of an old family friend, to take a walk in the estate's garden with his virtual self.
Now she made herself visible and entered the guest house's kitchens. Here was Lady Romanal, her host, cheerfully flipping eggs on the giant gas stove in the corner. This, the real Lady Romanal, was talking to an anima of Livia herself, while her own anima chatted with another of the guests, Livia's violin player. The violin player was a taciturn man who looked uneasy under the lady's microscope. Livia had never really gotten along with him outside of a professional capacity. She split off an anima to join his side of the conversation and walked to the stove, quickly back-stepping through her other an-ima's conversation with the lady until she felt prepared.
Then she replaced her own image at the lady's side. "Our politics aren't that radical," she said. "Aaron and I simply think Westerhaven's become too complacent. Too ... calm."
Lady Romanal sighed. "But is that a real criticism, or just youth speaking? Bacon?"
"Yes, thank you."
"You know what kind of reputation you'll get if you continue this pointless agitation," continued Lady Romanal. She was sweating from the heat, but seemed to enjoy cooking for these, her least important guests. "Your mother is quite concerned."
"Concern is Mother's chief talent," said Livia as she held out a plate.
"Oh, you are a handful!" complained the lady cheerfully. "Is it true you've been advocating that we should all abandon our manifolds and live together?"
"That was Aaron, not me. He doesn't see why we should deliberately limit our realities."
"Delightful!"
Livia glowered at her. "He takes his politics very seriously. So do I."