To my surprise, I tracked her down in the Toronto offices of Rampart, working very late in the CEO suite. She was dressed in a summer outfit of silver and carnelian voile that included a smart suit, dress gloves, and an astounding cartwheel hat featuring a heap of silk daisies and an opaque veil that completely hid her features.
My greeting consisted of, "Good God! You look like the Merry Widow."
She laughed, removed the headgear and gloves, and tossed them onto the communication console. "I put them back on again when your call came through. I wanted you to enjoy the full effect of the ensemble. Conceals the mutation rather nicely, doesn't it? I was quite a sensation at Chanterelles when I dined with Gunter this evening... and even more of a smash at our meeting with the Macrodur Chairman and Chief Financial Officer this afternoon."
"Macrodur! What the devil were you doing there?"
"I'll explain it all after you've told me your news. Incidentally, I'm very happy to see you alive, Asa. I hope you'll let me inform the rest of the family about your survival. Poor Simon was crushed."
"That'll be the day ... Ah, rats. You might as well tell the old buzzard that the prodigal son has risen from the dead.
Better keep Dan and Beth in the dark for the time being. They're too tight with Zed, and I don't want him to know I'm on the prowl. Not just yet." I paused for dramatic effect. "Of course, Ollie Schneider's capture should remain top secret until we land in Toronto."
"You nabbed him!" she exulted. "I knew you would." "Another overconfident female. The fact is, I nearly made a mess of it. But we won out, thanks to a gang of good people. Matt Gregoire and I will interrogate Schneider en route to Earth and transmit his deposition to you as soon as we can. He's agreed to testify freely in exchange for immunity. I'm beginning to think we should file the civil suit without delay. As soon as Ollie's deposition is validated."
"We'll have to examine Schneider's raw evidence and get an opinion from Dan and the legal department, but I'm inclined to agree with you."
"Have you talked to Ef Sontag yet about the Haluk threat?" She hesitated a moment before replying. "Just a preliminary conversation to alert him that we might submit something interesting. I—I thought we agreed that I'd wait for Karl to arrive with Garth Wing Lee before meeting Sontag."
"Karl's going to be a little late." I told her about the attack on Plomazo and my decision to pick up the crew and Lee, balancing the bad news with the prospect that both Lee and Jim Matsukawa might turn out to be Haluk disguised as humans. "That would be marvelous luck if it's true," she said, sighing, "because we're out of luck with the Fake Emily demiclone. Her brother authorized a disinterment and I sent some of my trusted people to Yorkshire for the body, but the coffin was empty. I presume Gala's agents got there first." "Rats. What about the Haluk corpse at Tokyo U?" "We managed to get that—along with a new copy of Professor Shibuya's research data confirming the presence of human DNA and eradication of the allomorphic trait. Your friend Beatrice Mangan is keeping the remains in a private mortuary in Fenelon Falls north of Toronto until we're ready to turn all of our Haluk threat evidence over to the Commonwealth Assembly. Xenoaffairs already has a copy of Shibuya's report on the body, but it's classified Cosmic and I didn't want to risk having some suborned SXA bureaucrat make it 'unavailable.' "
"It's just what the bastards would do ... Now tell me what kind of rumpus you've been raising on the Rampart front, Madame CEO. Were you elected by acclamation?"
"Of course! Cousin Zed almost suffered cardiac arrest when Simon renewed my nomination, but it did pass unanimously and was affirmed by stakeholder vote. After I told the board about my new venture credit scheme, Aunt Emma made an amazing little speech, saying how pleased Uncle Ethan would have been at my election."
"Zed must have enjoyed that."
"He sat there with absolutely no expression on his face, while his mother burbled on about how wonderful it was that / was willing to fight for her late husband's dream against all odds, while some others, unnamed, were willing to let it die. The rest of the board members were rather nonplussed. So was I, frankly! It was a Mouse That Roared situation. I almost felt sorry for Zed. Emma has always been so meek and willing to follow his lead."
"It sounds like Katje's got at Emma and brainwashed her. Revolt of the Little Old Ladies!"
"Emma may not stay brainwashed," Eve said. "She leans with the wind, and Zed's flying hurricane flags."
"Was Katje at the meeting?"
"No. Simon had her proxy. Do you think Mom used the same arguments on Aunt Emma that Pop used on her?"
I laughed. "Why not? Converts are always the most fanatical missionaries. But never mind that. Tell me about your venture scheme."
She explained it briefly, then told me how the prospectus had been submitted to Macrodur's financial arm, with the Concern's Chairman in attendance. I gave a low whistle of amazement. "Stanislawski met with you himself? That's wild! Did the Archnerd laugh in your faces and send you packing?"
"Certainly not. I told you I'd been doing my homework.
Adam Stanislawski has a long-standing personal animus toward Alistair Drummond. Mind you, there's small chance of the credit coming through unless Rampart is seen to be pulling its socks up."
"Well, it would help if you guys discovered another rozkoz."
I meant that as a joke, referring to the confection more delicious than chocolate that had founded the fortunes of Rampart Starcorp fifty years ago.
But she said, "We've done that already, Asa. Only we failed to realize its true potential. I've done a lot of thinking since the last time we spoke, even revised some of my financial strategy as a result." She paused and seemed to take a deep breath. "The commodity that's going to make Rampart a valued corporate collaborator of Macrodur is called PD32:C2."
My poor old brain was so full of horseshit and gun smoke that it took a moment for the full import of her words to hit me. Then I almost screamed into the communicator.
"What? Evie, have you lost it? Or am I speaking to your friggin' demiclone?"
"Calm down! Consider the prospect rationally. Is it really so unthinkable? I'm talking about allomorph eradication only, of course, after CHW makes a new treaty with the Haluk. One having stringent safeguards to ensure that the vector is used for nothing else—especially not demicloning. Rampart would then sell the vector to the aliens directly, at moderately fair prices."
"I can't believe you're saying this!"
But she continued serenely on. "We're assuming Gala-pharma is clobbered by our civil suit and forced into receivership first. That goes without saying. ICS might even obtain testimony against Gala from the other conspirator Concerns, in exchange for slapping them on the wrist rather than indicting them along with Gala."
"Legitimizing the Haluk trade conspiracy retroactively!"
"It's been done before, Asa. With the Joru, Kallenyi, and Y'tata."
My retort was bitter. "And just like before we'll have funny business going on under the table—embargoed commodities peddled to the aliens on the sly! I know the way it works, Evie. Trying to stop it was my job at ICS Enforcement. Whenever we'd plug one leak in the dike, another would spring up. Except the Joru and Kallenyi and Y'tata don't want to take over the goddamn galaxy..."
"I discussed the idea with Gunter at dinner this evening. He thinks a new Haluk treaty might fly. He also understands the realpolitik of the situation: throughout human history, implacable enemies have been transformed into friendly trading partners—given the proper incentive. Dan's wife Norma will be discreetly sounding out some of her Commonwealth Assembly colleagues, and Gunter is feeling the pulse of his contacts in ICS."
"What about Macrodur?"
"Stanislawski and his top execs know about the Haluk-PD32:C2 connection already, and about the existing illegal trading situation between the aliens and Galapharma. We— we had to put a guarded mention of it into the prospectus to show a major profit potential."
I let out a groan of despair. "Oh, Evie."
"The data were submitted under the strictest confidentiality, and we didn't name Gala's fellow Big Seven conspirators to Macrodur. That would have been strategically counterproductive."
An awful certainty had invaded me as she spoke. "And is it also strategically counterproductive to submit our evidence of a Haluk expansionist threat to Efrem Sontag right now?"
She did not answer for a moment. "I admit I'm tempted to reconsider our timing of the revelation. You can understand why."
"Well, of course! We wouldn't want to show what scheming fuckers the Haluk really are if the Assembly is debating a new trade treaty with them—and Rampart is using them as a bargaining chip in its pitch to Macrodur. Heaven forbid that we paint the aliens as ravening bogeymen rather than potential customers!"
"You're oversimplifying matters, Asa."
"Yeah. That's me, all right. I'm just an ex-cop and a dive-charter skipper, not a hotshot corporate schemer or a politician. But I've got a nose for bad guys, and all my instincts tell me the Haluk are seriously bad."
"If Rampart is ruined, we won't be in a position to do anything about the Haluk. Timing, Asa! It's all about timing, don't you see? And preserving our options."
"That's what Simon said just before I quit Rampart. Now you're trying to convince me that he was right all along. Simon and his fucking Big Picture—"
"We won't bury the Haluk evidence. We'll simply hold it in abeyance."
"I can't accept that."
She drew herself up. "You'll have to. I'm the CEO of Rampart Starcorp as well as a woman who's been personally victimized by the Haluk. And it's my decision that we'll wait on the Sontag presentation until Macrodur gives us a yes or no. Will you continue to stand by me, Asa? Or walk away, as you did with Simon?"
"Evie—"
"Areyou with me? "
"Yes," I said.
The half-alien face was less easy to read than one fully human, but her relief was palpable. "Thank you. I give you my solemn word that I will not allow the Haluk threat to be concealed or minimized. The moment Rampart is safe, I'll go to Sontag."
"I believe you."
A ferocious glint came into her eyes. "You know, if our prospectus is accepted by Macrodur, I think there's an excellent chance ICS will approve Concern status for Rampart immediately. Whereupon this comedy will be over—and Alistair Drummond can shit bricks and die!"
"Unless he takes over Rampart before your grand happy ending comes to pass," I cautioned, "in which case the Haluk will continue to lead Galapharma and its confederates around by the nose, as I suspect they've been doing from the start of the conspiracy."
"Drummond's not going to win, dammit!"
"Evie, he's already holding a hand with four aces while you and I are still trying to fill our shaky royal flush. And don't forget there could be a homegrown joker in the pack."
Her indomitable demeanor wilted, just a little. "The possible traitor inside our family..."
"My first priority in the interrogations," I assured her, "will be to ask Ollie Schneider if such a person exists. But he might not know the answer. You've got to take the strongest precautions—keep alert for bushwhack tactics from Drummond or his inside man. I'm serious about this! The family's in mortal danger. Drummond won't hesitate to use violence to get his way, especially if he gets wind of your Macrodur prospectus. He won't just surrender if he sees his scheme starting to fall apart."
Any more than a rabid skunk will.
"Believe me, Asa. I do appreciate the danger. I'm doing everything in my power to keep all of us secure. We have bodyguards and armored hoppers, and Mom is—Oh, God, I nearly forgot! She wants to speak to you urgently. Ever since I told her to ignore reports of your death, she's begged me to contact you. I didn't dare tell her what shenanigans you were up to."
I caught my breath. "She's not—"
"Her health seems no better, no worse, than before. But I think you should call her at once."
"All right. What the hell time is it in Arizona?"
"Nearly midnight. But Mom sleeps very lightly these days. She'd want you to call now."
"All right. I'll do it as soon as we're finished."
The alien face smiled at me. "Thank you for everything, Asa."
"You haven't done so badly yourself, Evie. I'll get back to you."
"Goodbye."
When the screen went to standby, I made the call to Katje's penthouse apartment in Phoenix. There was a wait before it was put through. I got up and stalked around Chispa's wardroom, which I'd appropriated as my office and improvised interrogation chamber. The last of the Perseus suns zipped past the viewport like spooked fireflies. We were entering Black Gap, the nearly starless region that separated the Spur from the Orion Arm of the galaxy.
I decided that I was thirsty after the confrontation with Eve. Booze was a no-no given the chemicals pumped into me, so I ordered a big orange juice from the food unit and sat drinking and brooding with the lights turned low.
Over the past six months, my mother had procrastinated endlessly when I urged her to put her quarterstake shares into a trust, not understanding—or refusing to acknowledge— that continuing to vote them herself placed her life in jeopardy. Katje's position, which she'd patiently reiterated to me—and which I had to admit made sense—was that only she could ensure that the Reversionist "charities" she championed would receive the shares' income. In any other arrangement, most especially a trust administered by her children and their legal advisors, there was a potential for declaring her mentally incompetent and cutting off funding to the unpopular political orgnizations, which advocated Insap rights and limiting the power of the Hundred Concerns.
I wondered whether my older brother Dan or younger sister Beth had been putting pressure on Katje since the last board meeting. Or had Cousin Zed resumed his insidious meddling, urging her to make the Reversionists an outright gift of the shares immediately, knowing the money-hungry groups would side with him in voting for the Galapharma takeover?
In my present state of decrepitude, I really didn't want to think about all that convoluted financial stuff. But I dearly loved my mother, so I was ready to give her whatever advice I could.
Her face appeared on the screen at last, devastated by age and illness but as invincible as ever. Her hair was white, tightly curled to minimize its sparseness. The Delft-blue eyes were still bright, but deeply sunken in shadowed sockets. She disapproved of all forms of geriatric genetic engineering on principle, especially those that allowed the rejuvenated elderly to cling to power at the expense of the younger generation. Katje Vanderpost sat in an easychair in the library of her penthouse, wearing a dusty-rose peignoir trimmed with lace of the same color. She looked as though she weighed less than forty-five kilos.
"Asa! Darling, it's so good to see you. Eve refused to tell me where you were. It was someplace dangerous, wasn't it?"
"Of course not," I lied. "How are you, Mom?"
She gave a light laugh. "You know how the doctors are. Always wanting me to submit to some damnfool treatment. 'To keep me going,' they say! But they never say where, do they? I'm seventy-eight and my useful work is long since done. Well ... most of it." Her smile was almost cunning. "Will you be home soon?"
"I'm on my way. I'll see you in just a little over a week."
"That's wonderful. Wonderful." Her head sank and the smile slowly dissolved to pensiveness. "I must ask you an important question."
Here it comes, I thought. "Certainly."
"Are you still a Throwaway?"
"Why, no." What's this! "Just today I was officially rehired by Rampart. I'm a Vice President again. A citizen in good standing."
"Oh, good. Gerry Gonzalez wasn't sure it would be legal if you were disenfranchised." She turned away for a moment, then held up an e-notebook and tapped a pad. "There! It's done."
Gonzalez was a fire-breathing young Phoenix attorney, head of LISA, the most vocal of the Reversionist lobby groups. He was also Katje's private solicitor, in spite of th
e best efforts of Simon, Dan, and Bethany to dislodge him.
"Mom, what are you up to now?"
"Well, I know you were concerned about—about my personal safety, if I retained my quarterstake vote on the Rampart board."
"And about Dan and Beth, too. Surely you haven't forgotten that threatening note Simon received after Eve's kidnapping."
"But the children are very well-guarded. And so am I, of course. I never leave the apartment anymore except for an occasional visit to the Sky Ranch."
"Even so—"
"Asa, dear, the point is moot! No one can pressure me now. I've taken steps, after very careful consideration. You know, I thought I'd found the right solution when I decided to vote in favor of the merger at the next-to-the-last board meeting. But your father was very persuasive. He made me realize that I didn't have the right to unilaterally dismantle the Starcorp that Dirk helped to found. On the other hand, I'm determined that my charities not be deprived of the funding they need so desperately."
"So what will you do? Turn your shares over to them now? Or make Gonzalez sole trustee?"
"Oh, no. It would be too much of a temptation, you see. In a Galapharma merger, my quarterstake would increase tremendously in value. I want the charities to prosper, but not at the expense of my brother's dream. No—I've decided to do something completely different. Gerry was dubious when I first told him about it, but he came around in the end. The charities will continue to receive their just due, Rampart will have its chance to survive, and Daniel and Bethany and I will be safe from Galapharma's threats." The blue eyes twinkled as she held up the computer notebook again. "Guess what I've done?"
I scowled. "Mom, no more games."
One shoulder rose in a minute gesture of resignation. I was no fun at all. Then she said it.
"I've just made a deed of gift to you, Asa. My entire quarter-stake, free of encumbrance. I know I can trust you to deal justly with the Reversionists. You made your feelings clear about the matter years ago. And I'm also confident that you'll do everything in your power to help Eve save Rampart."
"My God! Mom—you can't do this!"