Hayford Peirce: Deep-Fried Black Diamonds

“Never as poor as this, ” I groaned. “I’m ruined, just like J. Davis Alexander says he is, but really ruined. Everything I owned I’d put into margin on BDF. All I’ve got left is my commissions—and the reputation of being the guy responsible for the biggest stock market fiasco in seventy years.”

Isabel leaned across the table to brush her lips against my cheek. “It doesn’t matter, darling, we love you anyway, don’t we, Jin Tshei? And so does Valérie-France. Jin Tshei and I will pay for your ticket to visit her at the end of the year, just in time for Christmas in the snow—that’ll be jolly for both of you.”

“Jolly, yes.” I stared at her glumly. “But what I still don’t understand is what made those damned truffles go off like hydrogen bombs! Everyone here is talking about the barometric pressure differential and the—”

Isabel looked at me wide-eyed. “You mean you don’t know? I heard it in the strictest confidence from the first officer on the ship home. A charming fellow, very tall, very handsome, very, very French.”

“I can just imagine,” I managed from between clenched teeth. “And just what did this ever so handsome Frenchman tell you in the strictest confidence?”

Isabel’s laughter was a light tinkle. “Oh, that the French secret service sabotaged the dinner, of course, just as you were afraid that they might try to attack Ling Wong Guoy’s asteroid.”

“What! But how ?”

“Remember when at the very last moment they sprinkled crystallized violet petals over the truffles?”

“How could I ever forget?”

“What country do you suppose is the only supplier of crystallized violet petals in the entire Solar System?”

“France, I suppose?”

“Exactly. And every one of those beautiful translucent petals was loaded with dozens of tiny little capsules of some chemical like sodium peroxide, only more so.”

I frankly gaped. “You mean—”

Isabel nodded. “They were perfectly harmless as long as they were dry. But as soon as the waiters poured the sauce over the truffles and then spooned the violet petals into the sauce the capsule coating began to dissolve. And then when the chemical encountered the sauce—” Isabel puffed out her cheeks “— kablooey! No more truffles—and no more truffle market!”

“And no more money for Jonathan,” I said sadly.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something to restore your fortunes, darling. At least you got your job back with that swine Alexander.” Isabel looked up with suddenly glowing eyes. “My goodness, this is certainly a delicious cheeseburger! It even tastes like real meat!”

“That’s because it is. Wait till you taste the fries.” I pushed some in her direction.

“The fries? These black things are french fries?”

“Sort of. Go ahead, have some.”

Isabel inserted a black strip of french fry into her mouth, chewed, and rolled her eyes in ecstasy. “I’ve never tasted anything so good! What on Ceres is it?”

“Deep-fried truffle, of course. What else do you think Ling Wong Guoy can do with the two tons of truffles that Hernandez Wong Ling is harvesting out on his asteroid every month? He can’t sell them on Earth, and the price has collapsed here on Ceres—they’re cheaper than potatoes.”

Isabel stared at her plate in astonishment. “French-fried truffles? And that’s Ling Wong Guoy out there in the kitchen?” She gestured at a white-hatted figure dimly visible behind a battery of stainless steel implements.

I nodded. “He says no one in the Solar System will ever think of looking for him in a hamburger joint.”

“But that’s terrible! ”

“Except for the people in Clarkeville who like the vegetarian special.”

“The vegetarian special?” Isabel wadded a great handful of fries into her mouth.

“Sure.” I pointed to the sign on the wall. “Deep-Fried Black Diamonds—that’s what he calls the vegetarian special. See those two guys over there with the really idiotic expressions on their faces? The skinny one’s the head cook at the Tour d’Argent in Paris and the fat one’s the owner. They’ve been here three times a day for the last two weeks eating nothing but the vegetarian special. And they’re not the only greedy guts who have come all the way from Earth just to eat them—the town’s full of them.”

I popped a deep-fried black diamond or two into my own mouth. “Even though he’s bankrupted me, I do have to admit it: Ling Wong Guoy is one classy sort of guy.”

Illustration by William R. Warren, Jr.