She looked around to find the bottle of Dom Perignon vintage 2331 was empty and neck-down in the ice bucket at the side of the bed. A quick order to the house array sent a maidbot hurrying to bring another. “It’s going to be interesting to see the New York market board on Monday morning. This weekend is going to see so many stock acquisitions and movements the traders are going to know something’s up.”
“Yeah, we can’t hold off introducing the agency for much longer.” He looked up as the maidbot slid toward the bed. “Ah. More?”
“Yes please!”
He moved his head back to find her grinning devilishly at him. “My God, remind me never to be around the week after you leave rejuve. I doubt any man could survive that.”
The delicious memory of those few days spent in a glade on the side of Mount Herculaneum came back to provoke a warm tingle of satisfaction inside her. “One did,” she murmured contentedly.
Campbell lifted the cold bottle from the maidbot’s grip. “Shall I open it?”
“Afterward.”
“What about the High Angel problem?”
“We’ll find a fix in the morning.”
There was no specific time arranged for breakfast on Sunday morning. The guests arrived as they woke, drifting in across the lawns. For once the day had started without any clouds. Strong sunlight cast the estate’s exuberant vegetation in a pleasant aspect; there were even a couple of red squirrels bounding about over the lawn. Justine sat with Campbell, relishing the tired but happy feeling that was soaking her body. Thompson had said a polite good morning when he came in, although his tone told her he was quite aware of what she’d been up to during the night. Not quite disapproving, but close. She and Campbell shared a secretive grin as her brother walked away. The grins reinforced each other, threatening to become the kind of unstoppable giggles that afflicted school kids.
“May I join you?” Ramon asked.
“Please do,” Justine said. There was no sign of Isabella. Nor Patricia, she realized.
One of the house staff brought Ramon a pot of fresh English breakfast tea. Justine remembered introducing him to that drink, she always found it the best way to start the day. Coffee was too abrupt for her.
“I may have an idea that would smooth the way to move the agency to High Angel,” Ramon said.
Justine and Campbell exchanged a brief look. Everyone was remarkably well briefed this morning, she thought. It was barely thirty minutes since she’d updated Gore.
“We’d certainly appreciate anything which could help,” Campbell said.
“Parallel development. You continue building the first five scoutships at the Anshun facility, while the High Angel shipyards are being put together. That would provide the whole agency concept with the kind of positive outlook which the African caucus can support.”
Campbell was surprised by the notion. “I suppose that would work. There certainly wouldn’t be any of the delays which we’re resistant to. But it would also incur much greater start-up costs than we envisaged.”
“You should speak with Patricia, but I think you’ll find Doi’s team is open to raising the budget to accommodate us.”
Justine waited until they’d all finished eating before cornering Ramon as he walked back to his cabin. “What did she offer you to achieve that little strategic alignment?”
“Who?”
“Patricia.” She so nearly said Isabella.
“The original agreement was that Buta supplies the new High Angel shipyards. It is a logical extension for the construction companies to be awarded the support contracts as well.”
“Smart move,” Gore said later. “Support contracts can ultimately be worth more than construction in the long term. Which I guess is what we’re looking at here.”
“I’d love to know which one of them suggested it,” Justine said.
“Me, too. I’m becoming concerned by just how much money Doi is prepared to sign over. I’m not denying it will be good for us, but it shows a degree of desperation I hadn’t expected from her.”
“I’m not surprised at all,” Justine said. “She’s using this to buy herself the election, and it’s all paid for by tax money. She’s a politician, what did you expect?”
“More subtlety. The senators will know what’s happened here, even if the electorate doesn’t care. If it turns out the Dyson aliens are no threat, then the amount of money she’s offered the starflight agency is excessive and they’ll react to that. It’s not like a politician to support something so radical so wholeheartedly; they safeguard their own careers before anything.”
“But you’re the one that claims the Dysons will prove hostile, and we’ll need to evolve the agency into a navy.”
“I know. But I’m not standing for election. There’s a small part of me that’s tempted to sink this whole venture here and now.”
“What? You have to be joking.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t. But something’s not right.”
“Care to be more specific?”
“I can’t. I’ve analyzed this all night, compared it to a dozen similar guiding weekends this family has been involved with. There’s nothing tangible except my gut feeling.”
