"Aaron . . . I'm going to make it my ambition to get you out of that shell. You only talk to me and - well, I'm concerned people are starting to think I'm a bit strange for talking back to you." His attempt at friendly humor appeared to fall on deaf ears.
"Ham, you know I'm not a talker, at least I don't think so, I'm a thinker and a doer, and that's doer, not dour." He waited . . . and waited.
". . . You didn't laugh" Aaron finally said, disappointed.
"Was I supposed to?"
"You see Ham," he looked exasperated, "this is exactly why I don't talk much, I make a mildly funny comment and it doesn't even get a polite ha-ha."
"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron . . . a joke has to be funny and pitched to the audience, you need to think a little more about it."
"In what way? I think I'm funny."
Ham coughed then continued. "Well, for example, you're an extremely practical theoretical physicist so I'll pitch a joke to you; see what you think of it." He gave another throat clearing cough for introduction.
"A gambler wanted to be able to predict the outcome of an important horse race so he hired a biologist, a statistician, and a theoretical physicist. He gave each one a year to research the issue and after one year, they all duly reported back.
The biologist said that he could genetically engineer an unbeatable racehorse, but it would take 200 years and ten billion dollars.
The statistician reported next. He said he could predict the outcome of any race, with one hundred percent confidence that he would be right ten percent of the time.
Finally, the physicist reported that he could also predict the outcome of any race, and that the process would be cheap and simple to understand. The gambler listened eagerly for the proposal. The physicist reported, "I've made several simplifying assumptions: first, let each horse be a perfect rolling sphere… "
Ham waited, and then Aaron began to laugh.
"Oh that's very funny, ha-ha . . . very good Ham, I've got to tell my professor that one, as if it would be useful to get it right only ten percent of the time." He laughed again, "Typical statistician!" and he shook his head at the ridiculousness of the idea.
There was silence for a moment, broken only by Aaron's occasional chuckle.
"Yes . . . well," Ham cleared his circuits again, "perhaps we'd better get back to work."
* * *
As usual the walk back down the pipe from the gym was charged with sexual tension. Tiring as the workouts were, anticipation for the after match party always proved a great motivator. It was becoming a pleasurable routine.
Showering held its obvious attractions of course, none of which were enough to satisfy Marin. Regan, unusually nervous, had worked and run them to exhaustion. Now showering and tired she enjoyed both giving and receiving the attentions of grateful partners as they massaged away the aches in the warmth. While Marin was clearly ready for the next course she shut off his eagerness with a subbed command [Later!]
Even Leah was surprised when he slipped from the room. She shrugged and joined Regan on the bunk, "Is something up babe?" She stretched out beside her, curling one leg suggestively over her friend.
Looking slightly pensive Regan pushed herself up on one elbow, an obvious indication she wanted to talk, so Leah relaxed back looking up and waiting. With her free hand Regan gently stroked the fringe up and off Leah's face, considering what she would say.
"I want to suggest something to you. You don't have to do it, but I think you'd like it." She trailed one finger down to the ear holding Leah's earpiece and sensuously stroked the earlobe.
Leah could tell this was more than a casual conversation; she stayed calm and held Regan's eyes. "Talk to me," and she paused, taking on a definite questioning frown, "what's on your mind?"
"You know Ham and I can communicate without speaking?"
"Yes, of course, and you can communicate with me anytime."
"Yes," Regan considered this, framing a suitable response, "But when I do that, you hear my voice through the ear piece don't you?"
"Sure, you know that, what are you trying to say?" Leah was intrigued now.
"Well, normally, when I talk to you like that, from a distance, I don't actually say anything, I just think it and the system converts it to speech which you hear."
"Uh-huh . . ."
"Marin and I communicate the same way all the time, just by thinking."
Now Leah pushed herself up, "Has he got a computer in there too, I just assumed he had a better ear piece?"
Regan sat back against the wall and crossed her legs. Leah did the same; both women alert now, engaged in the subject.
"Marin has something they call a neural web," Regan explained. "All the adults from his system have them, including the Corans. The neural web engages with the brain, using soft tissue strands that allow wireless connection with the ship or the Orbital AIs. It's also what enables them to speak our languages. That ability comes from the central computer system, a bit like a Google translate only thousands of times faster. The system also controls how and who the crew can communicate with but in our case we keep pretty much an open channel. I can still communicate with Marin or Ham privately if I choose to and vice versa, it works great and we don't need to speak out loud."
"But Jared has an earpiece doesn't he?"
"Yes, he does. But when he's old enough, probably about thirteen or fourteen, he'll get the web too, it's a fantastic advantage." Regan waited, letting the thoughts hang for a moment.
Leah just looked at her. "And . . ."
"And, I'd like to offer you the chance to have one too. That's what it is, an offer, we're a close team. It's not essential but it's helpful."
"Does Kevin have one?"
"No."
"Mary, Hayden, Jean, Kutch . . ?"
"No . . . only Marin . . . and you, if you want one."
"What about you?"
"Really, you need to ask that?" She smiled to put Leah at ease. "Only you and Marin know what's in here babe," She tapped the left side of her head, "and it's a whole rabbit hutch, not just a web in the corner." She took Leah's hands. "Look, I did have a web but that bullet took half of it away, its redundant now. As you know, I now work somewhat . . . differently."
Leah looked away, considering how to respond.
"Do you want me to have one?" She asked.
Is she a moth to the flame? Regan hesitated, knowing that whatever she said would have far more influence than she was comfortable with. Then a look of calm certainty came over her and she pushed herself up close to embrace her friend.
"Leah, I'm not going to pussy foot around here. It's fantastic, it's a gift, it truly is, and I wouldn't just offer it to anyone. In fact I don't even want people to know we have it. If you go ahead you need to know there are people who would probably kill just to tear us apart and find out how this works. Listen, this is like a proposal from our team, you're in it anyway but this truly opens up the possibilities and I would love you to share in it. It helps that I have complete confidence in Ham to do the operation right."
"It will bring us closer won't it?" It was more a statement than a question.
"Scary close . . . but it's wonderful to have support that intimate and close, and I'm sure our relationship will be the stronger for it, that's if you’re sure you are here for the long term?" She raised her eyebrows, questioning.
Leah smiled, "I've always wanted to speak Italian; it's such a sexy language." She wagged her eyebrows at Regan suggestively.
"I take it that's a yes."
"I'd love it . . . who wouldn't, and thank you." Leah smiled and stretched sensuously back. "Now . . . how about using that web thing, where's Marin?"
Regan smiled without comment. Instead she slid off the bed and onto her knees, pulling Leah down on her back, one leg draped over the edge. Then she leant forward trailing her tongue down her belly edging lower. Leah reached down to guide Regan into position. "I won't have to lose my hair will I?"
Regan paused in her min
istrations. "Babe, you get to keep that beautiful hair, don't worry."
Leah sighed in relief and gently pressed Regan back down, stroking her hair.
[Marin . . . You can come back in now.] Regan subbed him.
In only a minute she heard the door swish open behind her, and pointedly arched her back, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist.
* * *
Sometimes the CEO hat weighed heavy on Kevin Stein and this was just such a moment. He felt sick to the stomach as he reviewed the proposal on his desk.
Mary, having passed him the offer, now sat opposite, legs curled up under her. She nervously twisted a rubber strand of Jared's slingshot around one finger, winding it tight enough to cut off the blood flow and then releasing it, over and over as Kevin continued to read.
He finally looked up. "Did he say anything to you when you were last down there?" As he spoke a desperate sadness radiated from his expression.
"No, he didn't say anything at all and I think that's part of the problem. Kev, I haven't been down there in months, none of us has. As soon as those documents arrived I called him and I could tell he was expecting me - he sounded cool - distant - the spark was gone. I thought about it a lot afterwards, and even had Hilary play the call back for me, I just couldn't believe it. Kev, he sounded resentful, deeply resentful, not the Mitch we know."
"The Mitch we knew . . ." he corrected and then rested his head in his hands. "Shit Mary, I can't believe this, it's the end of the old team. Steph's already gone . . . and now Mitch. What if Regan doesn't agree with all this?"
"Kev, it's the relationship with Mitch we need to try and salvage. Business wise this doesn't hurt us, you could say it even makes sense. EZAS isn't exactly a good fit with our business anymore; we're in aerospace and defense. Accounts software is profitable but it's a mile away from what we focus on now. I guess Mitch feels out on a limb and he wants to go his own way with the business now, perhaps that's understandable. We're feeling it because it's like a brother leaving the family home," she shifted to engage him. "Kev, somehow we've got to try and make sure we don't completely lose the brother."
Kevin stretched back and groaned, trying to work out the tension. "It's telling Regan that I'm not looking forward to. I agree that business wise it does make sense, for us anyway. EZAS doesn't fit anymore, hasn't for a long time if we're honest," he looked back down at the figures, "and it's a good price." He shook his head, still disbelieving. "You know I'm going to have to summarize things for her; most of this is just cold legalese, come on, give me one of your brilliant breakdowns."
She smiled and held out her hand to tick off the fingers.
"He wants to buy out our remaining share of EZAS, the whole sixty percent. He's offering a premium of twenty percent on market price acknowledging the significance of what we're giving up, that's twelve billion US dollars. He'll surrender his one percent share of STEIN for three billion. So basically he's raising nine billion from somewhere to finance this. He is rich, a billionaire himself, but that's still a lot of money."
"Is EZAS worth it?" Kevin sounded doubtful.
"Absolutely, it's still growing. Sure he's pushed the price a little ahead of current value but I'd project if things continue the way they are he'll make good money, however . . ." and she trailed off looking concerned.
"However what . . . what are you thinking?"
"Kev, I said if things continue the way they are - and that's a big if. I'm not sure on his own Mitch has the creative spark to keep ahead of the pack, that's all. But look, he is a genius and he wants the chance to build his own team. He's still young and now's the time to do it I guess." Kevin could tell she was already resigned to the inevitable.
"Ok, let's talk to Regan together, I can help keep her down, you explain the financials and we'll both pick up the pieces afterwards." He smiled; they made a good team and he knew it.
She brightened with the decision now made and he knew what she would be thinking. Nine billion dollars!
He came around the desk and rolled carefully onto her lap drawing a squeal and a snap of the slingshot.
"Where are the kids?" He asked lifting his eyebrows.
"Way, way, way up the pipe with Jared," She wriggled under him suggestively . . . "We have time."
* * *
Jared led his young cousins up toward the moonward end. He was tiring of the flinger business, it was too much like work, and what would a five year old do with fourteen hundred and thirty seven dollars anyway? His interest had been waning for some time - and then Ham told him about dwarf tossing . . .
He guided the happy twins to the gym and directed them toward the antigrav chamber. It was time for product testing.
* * *
After a difficult night with troubled dreams Regan lay on her back contemplating the ceiling.
"Good morning Ham." Despite her attempt to be cheery it was unconvincing.
"And how are we this morning? Bright and bushy tailed I trust." His voice had just the right amount of encouragement while at the same time asking, what's up?
She delayed answering, thinking again about how much she appreciated Ham's care. For a moment the thought almost made her forget the worries and she curled up in the knowledge of his reassuring presence - and then it came back to her.
"I had a terrible dream." She waited for him to ask and show the interest she knew would be there - he rarely failed her.
"Talk to me babe, you know how I love to hear the weird and wonderful, what happened?"
She smiled and chuckled, feeling good to laugh even a little and then lay there a moment longer, just gathering her thoughts.
"I was walking up the pipe, going somewhere, I don't know where, and I looked up and Jared was outside. It was like before we closed the ends, and he was in space, with a big glass helmet, and he's on some kind of jet cycle doing loops. I know he knows I can see him but I'm in a hurry for some reason and it's like I don't want to acknowledge him in case I have to stop, so I pretend I haven't noticed." She hesitated, suddenly and embarrassingly getting teary.
"Anyway . . . he flies nearer and nearer to the window, looping away, trying to get my attention, and yet I know he knows, that I already know he's there," Regan put her hands over her face and rubbed furiously in frustration. "I know this sounds like gobbledygook."
"Go on, I'm with you."
"Well, the thing is I can see the disappointment on his face and I can tell he knows I've ignored him. Suddenly he goes to swerve away, but he's got too close and the handle bar catches the window somehow, and he gets thrown off, spinning away into space, lost." She lay there silent, reliving the dream, waiting for Ham to comment.
"And what do you think it means, if anything?" He asked.
"I still neglect him don't I? Does he feel I neglect him Ham, you know him better than anyone? Tell me he feels loved - I couldn't bear it if he felt I would ignore him like that."
There was silence for a minute or so and Regan waited, knowing Ham would be thinking. The temptation for him to make a joke would be strong but she knew he wouldn't, this wasn't the time, and she really wanted his wisdom. He didn't fail her.
"Regan, there would be few mothers, or fathers for that matter who didn't worry that they neglected their children in some matter or area. It's a tough job and you do it well. I can tell you he radiates all the confidence of a child who feels secure and loved. He lights up when he sees you and I don't need to tell you that it is usually him who takes off to do something when he's had enough, not you. You can't tie that boy down. He does that so confidently because he is so secure in your relationship, he knows you're there for him."
"Thanks Ham, I guess I just have my doubts, I get so focused on things . . ."
"Regan, I don't think that was what the dream was about."
"Really . . . what do you think it was about?"
"What do you have to do today?"
She thought for a second, "We're going to have the meeting with Mitch."
Ham wa
ited.
"You think it's about Mitch?" She asked.
"Well, think about it. You sometimes read too much into the characters in your dreams, as if it's some portent of the future. But isn't it more likely that your dreams are prompted by your concerns, those things that are bothering you most? Your subconscious works to construct a scenario that brings the concerns to life? You've been beating yourself up about Mitch, why?"
"Because I neglected him, I left him down there running EZAS, actually grateful that I didn't need to do anything. I took him for granted."
"You're worried that you ignored his cries for attention."
"Like Jared in the dream . . ." her voice drifted as she reflected on the thought.
"Regan, there may be some truth in the fact that everyone, including you, could have called him more but we're not talking about a child here, he's an adult. When did he ever ask me to fly him up for a beer and a chat? He could have asked anytime. Don't take more responsibility than you should."
Regan lay there silent, thinking about Mitch, about friendship and about responsibility.
"Ham, you know I apprecia . . ."
"Yes Regan," he interrupted her, "and you don't need to worry about me - ever."
She could sense his smile, and she headed for the shower.
* * *
As Regan was in no hurry Ham dropped the Interceptor earthward in a steady contemplative dive. For the moment she found it a relief to be sitting alone. Marin had remained on the STEIN with Leah as someone needed to be there when she woke from her web operation. For the meeting she had only one other thought for backup - Marcus Jackson. He would handle the legal side as usual but in the main she wanted him there for emotional support as they were all old friends. For that she was grateful.
Mitch's offer for EZAS had come as a huge shock, as did his request to meet personally for the handover. He had sounded angry, offended, and she had no idea why.
On departure from the Station her second passenger retired immediately to a bunkroom to sleep; Ham had insisted on Brian as a bodyguard and with Marin's vote also going against her she didn't protest. Nevertheless she felt embarrassed having him here and it seemed over the top, this was Mitch after all.
Confluence Point Page 4