He leaned forward and looked Rafe in the eye.
"We have a prototype gate functioning in Oasis orbit now. We intend to place another here in the asteroid belt, and should we partner with EcoMech, we'll place one at Harvest."
Rafe frowned, mulling this over. "Just three gates? Then one will stand idle while the other two operate. That doesn't seem efficient."
"Very good. We don't propose that your gate stand idle. We already have one partner—the Wandermere Consortium. Four gates, each alternating between the other three. Do you think your board would be interested in such an offer?"
"Yes, sir," Rafe replied, awestruck. Wandermere, EcoMech's largest trading partner. Remembering himself, he added, "Provided, of course, the terms of the agreement are fair and equitable."
The chairman nodded. "I'll leave a preliminary gate proposal with you before I go. It will give you something concrete to show your board when you return. The lawyers can work out the details at their leisure.
"There's another matter I feel we need to discuss," the chairman said. "Kama tells me you have a disturbing habit of putting yourself in harm's way. She believes you're in danger from whomever sought to replace Leon Goldman. My security chief agrees with that assessment."
He seemed suddenly like a shark cruising for its next meal, a deadly force not to be messed with.
Rafe swallowed and looked him in the eye.
"It's something I'll pursue when I get to Harvest. I made a promise to Aaron Goldman, and I'll keep it."
"I don't approve of Kama getting mixed up in EcoMech's internal problems." He gave Rafe a hard look. "But neither are we able to stop her when she makes up her mind about something. Since Oasis has a grudging interest in the fortunes of EcoMech—and Kama an interest in you—I've agreed to provide support as she sees fit. Don't abuse the privilege."
"No, sir. Thank you, sir." Kama was coming to Harvest with the chairman's blessing? Rafe's spirits soared.
The chairman rose from the table. "One other word of advice, Mr. McTavish."
"What's that, sir?"
"Keep your wallet close."
Rafe didn't like what the chairman implied. "You think Kama is after me for my money?"
The chairman laughed. "Are you familiar with the game Galaxy at War?"
"Only in passing," Rafe admitted.
"You and I are probably the only ones in the galaxy who aren't playing it. Kama wrote it seven years ago, and she writes a new version yearly on her annual vacation. She holds the rights and allows Oasis to distribute it for a small—very small—percentage of the profits. She also holds about a hundred other patents, most of which net her additional income. Were she to have accumulated her earnings over these past seven years, her wealth would dwarf yours, even with your Madison Trust taken into consideration. She makes more than four billion credits a year. Do you know what she does with all that money, Mr. McTavish?"
"No," Rafe said, wondering why the chairman was telling him this. If what he said was true, wouldn't he be worried about someone chasing Kama for her money and not the other way around?
"She gives it all away. She lives in the storeroom of her computer school in the slums of Mumbai when she isn't on assignment, sleeping on a mat on the floor, her only source of water an outdoor tap. Some weeks, she doesn't have enough money to buy food and depends on the generosity of others to feed herself, or simply starves. The duffel she carries contains all her worldly possessions."
"I don't think I understand," he said, trying to imagine Kama in such impoverished surroundings and failing. "What does this have to do with me?"
The chairman grimaced. "Because, Mr. McTavish, she's also very good at convincing others to give away their money—as you've so recently experienced."
The murky became clear. Twenty-five million from the Madison Trust to help the station. He grinned—and saw the approval hiding under the chairman's gruff exterior. "And the GAW Foundation?"
"GAW—Galaxy at War," the chairman said.
"Ah." He couldn't help laughing.
"Consider yourself warned. Now I must be off."
"You're leaving?" asked Rafe. Then, puzzled, he added, "When did you arrive?"
"I came for the meeting. I'll be leaving as soon as I finish my discussions with Mr. Browning." The chairman picked up his empty mug and moved toward the door.
In his head, Rafe did the math. "You came all the way from Oasis for the meeting? How could you have known about it in time to get here? No vessel travels that fast, especially when you have to cycle through two jump gates in Earth orbit."
The chairman turned, a twinkle in his eye. "Kama warned me that you were perceptive. I believe you have an arrangement with her, something along the lines of 'ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.' I commend you for it." The old shark bared his teeth in a dangerous smile and glided out of the room.
***
A few minutes later, he was knocking on a door. After a very long wait, it opened, revealing a disheveled Miss Patty, face puffy and eyes red.
"Good evening, Miss Patty. May I come in?"
She dabbed at her nose and stepped back, motioning him inside. Two battered suitcases, their sides bulging, stood by the door. A third, half-full bag lay open on the bed.
"I suppose you've come to take me away. I hope you'll let me forward my personal belongings to my grand-niece. I don't have much—" She sniffed, eyes brimming.
"Miss Patty," Rafe said sternly, "what you did, you did with the best of intentions, but it was still illegal."
A little sob escaped her. "I know what I did was wrong, but it was the only way to save Ellie's life. If I'd had any other options, I wouldn't have stolen those reports. But I couldn't let my grand-niece die for lack of money. I didn't keep a penny for myself."
"Do you really mean that?"
"Oh, yes, Mr. McTavish. I'm not a crook. If I could have found another way to pay back the loan—" She closed her eyes, hands still at her sides. "But what's done is done. I'll go quietly."
"Good. I'm glad to hear that." He pulled a filmie from his pocket, unfolded it, and offered it to her. "This is a contract for your services. It requires you to teach cooking skills to surrogate mothers on Earth. In essence, I have personally bought your debt and negotiated a cash settlement with Galaxy for the damages you caused them, in return for which they've agreed to release you into my custody and not press charges with EA.
"Most of your wages will go to pay off your debt to me, but you'll have some money left over, and the opportunity to take additional work if you so desire. I won't lie to you—it will probably take you the rest of your life to pay back what you owe, but you won't be destitute. If you agree to it, you'll need to have your things on the yacht before we leave at midnight. EcoMech will provide you with a furnished apartment in Mumbai."
Miss Patty stared open mouthed at the contract, and then at Rafe. "Is this a joke?"
"No joke, Miss Patty. I'm offering you a chance to make restitution. A better one than prison offers, I hope."
She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed hard, making him wince. Remembering herself, she jumped back, face flushed. She placed her thumbprint on the contract without bothering to read it.
***
The party started around seven. Someone rigged up a music player to an old intercom system, and hard dance rhythms rocked the facility. Mountains of food covered tables in the mess hall. Hydroponics and the EcoMech yacht galley would be pretty empty for a while, Rafe thought. Cases of beer appeared from somewhere and nestled in ice baths. He recognized the logo as one bottled on Harvest and guessed it was part of the yacht's stash. He shagged one and popped the top.
The main cargo bay next door served as a dance floor for miners gyrating wildly to the pounding beat. It reminded him of African tribes preparing to go to war with their neighbors. All this group lacked were the spears and the sense of rhythm. Pressed into one corner, Greg and Gabe looked on. The older boy surreptitiously passed his can of beer to the
younger, who took a sip, then spewed the beer from his mouth. The expression on Gabe's face was priceless. Rafe hoped it was a first sign of recovery.
Browning appeared at his shoulder, an open beer already in his hand, the lascivious Janice Fisher gracing his arm. The short, squat, bear of a man grinned from ear to ear as he looked out on the dance floor and took a swig.
"Thank you. I know you're taking a big risk, gambling on us, but you won't regret it. We'll make this place into something you can be proud of."
Rafe dragged his eyes from Janice and replied, "I believe you will."
He saluted the manager with his beer can and took a swallow. Ed returned the salute with his own can and threw back a slug, smiling broadly until he began wheezing.
"Too much dancing, I guess," Browning said, gasping for air.
Janice watched him, her fingers feeling for the pulse in his wrist. From the deepening concern on her face, she didn't like what she found. Another man would have malingered to attract her attentions—Browning seemed angry at displaying weakness.
"You know, you're a partially owned subsidiary of EcoMech now," Rafe said. "We'll want to be sure that the men employed here have adequate health coverage, so we'll be including you in our umbrella policy. You should be able to get a cloned-lung transplant a month or so after coverage kicks in. You'll pay a substantial deductible, of course, but I expect you can get a loan to help."
Janice's face lit up, but Browning just blinked at him. "We never had coverage like that with Galaxy. Are you sure you aren't giving me preferential treatment? Because if you are, I won't take it. It isn't fair to the rest of the guys."
"EcoMech takes care of its people, Ed. Well, it does now, anyway. They get the same benefits as you. Of course, you're only a partially owned subsidiary—as facility manager you'll have discretion to hire your own medical staff." He tilted his beer at Janice.
Browning's broad grin returned. "Okay, then." He wrapped a beefy arm around Janice's trim waist and moved off into the crowd, but not before the libidinous doctor planted a kiss on Rafe's cheek. He laughed and waved her away before she could see his face flushing.
He spent three more hours roaming through the party rooms, hoping to find Kama. He hadn't seen her since his meeting with Sharma, and wondered if she'd left with the chairman. Would she take off without saying goodbye? His heart ached at the mere thought of never seeing her again.
By eleven, he was dead on his feet. He said his goodbyes to Browning and Fisher and made his way back to the ship. A crewman ushered him to the executive cabin. Leon's and Amaya's things were gone, and his own limited kit was neatly stowed in the closet.
He crossed the hall to check on the boys, finding them engaged in a game of cards. Gabe was frighteningly quiet, responding to Greg's cheery conversation with blank stares and tiny movements of his head. He'd have to talk to Gabe in the morning, make sure the boy was okay. Rafe backed out of their room and collided with Kama in the hallway.
"Well," he said, overjoyed to see her, "I was beginning to think you'd left the station already."
She pointed to the open door of his quarters. "Is this your cabin? We need to talk."
She grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside, closing the door behind them.
"I need a job. A job on Harvest. Somewhere near you, but not too close. Do you understand?"
"You want to be undercover?" he asked, thinking that he had other more important topics to discuss with her and so little time.
"Yes, precisely. Samir will chase connections outside EcoMech. I'll be the inside man."
"Ah. You'll still be working for Oasis then, not for EcoMech?"
He could hear her teeth grinding as her jaw moved subtly back and forth. "From Oasis point of view, I'd be the technical liaison for the Sharma Network project, but I'd prefer a lower profile while we track the blackmailer. Perhaps a systems analyst consultant or something."
"Hm," mused Rafe, his pulse thundering in his ears. This was the moment he'd waited for, and he wasn't letting her get away again. "The only open position I can think of is that of CEO's wife."
Emotions cycled across her face: surprise, joy, worry tinged with fear. Then she shut down and stepped back. "Be serious."
Rafe stepped forward and took her hands in his. "I am. I love you, Kama. I want to marry you. Come live with me on Harvest."
Kama swallowed. "I can't be your wife. I can't be anyone's wife. It wouldn't be fair. You know what I do. Someday, I'd go out the door, and I wouldn't come back. Someday, someone will catch me, and I'm not about to stop."
Rafe's spirits sank. He didn't want to go to Harvest without her. He needed her, loved her, and he thought she loved him, too. He looked in her eyes, those fiery pools of chocolate, and listened to her words.
"The poor need a champion to fight for them. Otherwise, no one's there to check the greed, the power…"
Her voice gradually rose, becoming more strident as she lectured on, but Rafe wasn't sure she was still talking to him. What had Janice said? Look beyond what she says and into her heart. The same advice Ben had given Greg. When he looked deep in her heart, he saw her love looking back, despite her denials and intellectual avoidance, and he rejoiced. He smiled at her, and the more he smiled, the more confused she became until she stuttered to a halt.
"I'm going to keep asking you to marry me, and eventually, you're going to say yes," he said, aware of her soft, warm hands in his and never wanting to let them go. "I don't care how long it takes."
Kama pulled her hands away but remained so close he could feel her body heat. She seemed both perplexed and pleased, and—finally—at a loss for words. She thrust her hands in her jumpsuit pockets, scuffed the toe of one boot on the floor. It took her a moment to find her voice, a casualty of the war between head and heart.
"You don't know me. When—if—you do find out about me, you may not like what you learn."
"I know that a background check turned up seventeen Kamala Bhatias ranging in age from two months to seventy-two years and none of them are you."
"Only seventeen?" she muttered. "There should have been twenty-three."
Rafe laughed, curious about how Barb could have missed the additional aliases but dismissing it. She hadn't had much time to do the research.
"Is Kamala Bhatia your real name?"
"It's my true name. I use others depending on where I am."
"Then I know all I need to know about you." He could see her reticence. "I don't care about your past. I care only about our future together."
Her lips pulled into a thin line. "I'll come as your minder. You attract trouble like a stagnant pond draws mosquitoes. Someone has to watch out for you."
Rafe wanted to crush her to him and never let go, but he sensed her need for space and checked himself. He drank in the smell of her, the look of her, and tried to make it be enough for now. Every fiber of him ached for her.
"That's good enough for me. Welcome aboard. We leave in—" he checked his nanocom, "twenty minutes."
"No," she corrected, "you leave in twenty minutes. I'm waiting for my relief to arrive. After all, Oasis promised to help here, and the miners certainly need it. Then I'm going home to visit my family and pack a few things."
"Ah," replied Rafe, recognizing a lie tangled up in the litany and wondering what she was really up to. He grappled with his own disappointment that they weren't traveling together. She was already headed for the door. He trailed behind her, desperate for a goodbye kiss but afraid she might reject him if he attempted it.
"Perhaps I should pay a visit to Oasis and meet your family?"
Kama's rich laughter rippled like wind chimes, filling the tiny cabin with warmth. She popped open the door and stepped through.
"You already have," she said, eyes flashing amusement. "Varun Sharma is my stepfather."
She strode off down the corridor, duffel slung over her shoulder. Rafe stood in the doorway, mouth agape. As she disappeared, he started to chuckle. Then he laughed out l
oud.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the many people who assisted with this novel. First, thanks to my daughter for her unfailing support and thoughtful suggestions. Then thanks to my writing partner, primary beta reader, and copy editor, James Grayson, for his sharp eye and dedication to quality storytelling. Thanks also to Brenda Windberg, professional editor for making the manuscript better. And I couldn’t have done it without the cheerleading and morale boosting given by the FreyedCritters and the Maass Destruction lists.
Hostile Takeover
K S Ferguson
Rafe McTavish, security expert and new CEO at interplanetary mega-corp EcoMech—along with his undercover ally Kama Bhatia, hacker and corporate spy—continue their pursuit of a ruthless blackmailer in the sequel to Calculated Risk. When Rafe's arrival on EcoMech's frontier colony world ruins their adversary's plan for supremacy, events take a deadly turn. As tensions among the workers rise and unrest turns to violence, Rafe and Kama must race to unmask a killer before Rafe and his family fall victims to a murderous hostile takeover.
For more information, visit http://www.ksferguson.net/hostile-takeover.html.
K S Ferguson
Light bulbs talk to River Madden; God doesn’t. When the homeless schizophrenic unintentionally fractures a dimensional barrier and accidentally steals a gym bag containing a million dollars, everyone from the multiverse police to the local crime boss—and an eight-foot tall demon—are after him. Can he dodge them long enough to correct his mistakes and prevent the destruction of three separate dimensions? If he succeeds, will the light bulbs stop singing off-key?
For more information, http://www.ksferguson.net/touching-madness.html.
Calculated Risk Page 27