by Marko Kloos
Solveig sat down at her desk and settled into the chair as it shaped itself around her. She started to make the hand movement that would turn on her usual array of screen projections, but then she lowered her hand and closed her eyes with a deep breath, enjoying the momentary calming silence in the room.
Her personal comtab knocked its polite “incoming message” notification against her wrist. She raised it to look at the screen. It was a message from Berg.
Dinner?
She smiled and considered her response. Tonight she had planned to begin holding her father to his declaration that he would let her have her own social life from now on. Maybe it was time to test the veracity of the statement a little ahead of schedule.
She sent a node address in reply.
You can vid call on this node.
It took a few moments for Berg to reply. Solveig smiled again as she imagined him scratching the back of his head in confusion. She had been communicating with him only over encrypted text to keep their relationship off Falk’s radar. He didn’t know yet that the secret was out.
Are you sure about that? he finally asked.
Positive.
There was a chime at the door, and one of the lounge attendants came in with a mug. He walked over to her desk and set it down in front of her gingerly and with professional smoothness.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re most welcome,” he replied and withdrew from the room.
“There is an incoming comms request,” her room AI said.
“I’ll take it at the desk,” Solveig said. She opened a screen and looked at the originating node ID: DET. BERG, STEFAN, SANDVIK POLICE (CRIMINAL DIVISION).
Time to take this one above ground, she thought.
Solveig enlarged the screen and tapped the green ACCEPT/ANSWER field.
“Good morning,” she said when she saw Berg’s face. He was peering at her with some degree of disbelief, as if he had expected to fall for a prank. Behind him, people were walking around between desks and data stations, and she heard the low din of office conversation.
“And a good morning to you,” he said. “Did you really just give me your official business node and tell me to comm you at the office via video?”
“I believe I did,” she said.
“Your office is much nicer than mine,” he said. “I don’t even get walls.”
“Unearned privilege,” she replied. “You know how it is with us stuck-up plot-holder families.”
“I feel like this relationship just received an upgrade. This is the first time we’re talking over vid comms.”
“Let’s just say there has been a realignment,” Solveig said.
“Okay,” Berg said with a smile. “Mysterious. But whatever it is, I won’t complain. It’s nice to see you.”
“And it’s nice to see you,” Solveig said. “And I’d love to have dinner with you tonight. But I have some family business back at home once I leave here. Some more realigning.”
“I see.” He did a demonstrative little pout. “How about lunch, then?”
She shook her head.
“Sorry. Four meetings today. I won’t be able to duck out long enough to make it to the noodle place on Savory Row.”
“Are you just going to skip lunch?”
“I’ll have something here at the office. We do have a canteen here, you know.”
“Why don’t I come over and join you? I’ll be running errands in that area today anyway.”
“You want to come over and eat in the canteen at Ragnar Tower,” she said with a smile.
“Sure. If you’re forced to eat there, I’ll endure it with you.”
She laughed. “It may not be as profound a sacrifice as you think. But why not? If you have the time. And you won’t get in trouble for it.”
“Only if you’re going to try to bribe me in my official capacity. And I actually end up accepting the bribe.”
“I’ll do my very best to spare you the temptation. Although the beef fillet with herb butter can corrupt the strongest wills.”
“Beef fillet with herb butter,” he repeated. “What kind of canteen serves that sort of lunch?”
“Unearned privilege, remember?” she said, and he laughed.
“Come to the main reception at noon. I’ll put you on the visitor list for today. Someone will get you and take you up to the executive level.”
“I’ll be there at noon,” Berg said. “Looking forward to it.”
“As am I,” she said and ended the connection. This was the first time she had used her corporate node for a conversation with Berg, and everything they had just said would be stored in the security data banks. If Marten still had his orders to keep her father in the loop, Falk would know about their lunch date before it even happened. Her office had glass or Alon walls on two sides, and she hadn’t bothered to darken the glass panes facing the executive floor for privacy. Anyone walking by would have seen her comms screen.
I guess we will see tonight whether you meant what you said, Papa, Solveig thought.
Meetings, as far as Solveig was concerned, were the biggest drain of productive time in the company. Nothing that was ever said in a one-hour meeting couldn’t be summarized in a far more efficient message brief and sent over the Ragnar network, which could track to the millisecond when a document was opened and filed, and even to what degree it was read. But old traditions died hard, so she resigned herself to burning half her productive daytime hours by sitting in a room and exchanging phrases and sentiments that seemed to be all but ritualized at this point, like traditional Acheroni theater performances.
“It’s good to see you home, Miss Ragnar,” Magnus Pettar said when she walked into his office. He got out of his chair and walked around his desk to greet her, doubtlessly to avoid making her think he was treating her like any other underling even though that’s what she was.
“It’s good to be home,” she said. “That was a long trip. A little longer than anticipated.”
“Yes, it was unfortunate that we scheduled it when we did. But who could have known about that unfortunate business taking place on Rhodia at the same time?”
He led her to his desk and gestured at one of the chairs in front of it.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. Can Lars get you anything?”
“No, thank you,” Solveig said. “I just had my starter tea a little while ago.”
“I, too, need a little chemical boost in the mornings to be at my best,” Pettar said. “But I am more of a coffee man myself.”
He walked around his desk and sat down in his chair, which was the same executive leather monstrosity that had been behind that desk since her father had occupied this office. She suspected that Magnus had kept her father’s furniture and declined to put his own touch on the president’s office because he was the sort of man who would assign a totemic sort of power to the relics of the past. Or maybe he thought her father would be pissed off when he somehow clawed his way back into control and found that his chair and desk had been moved to the basement. The wood of the president’s desk had been hewn from an ancient oak that had grown on the Ragnar estate since shortly after the family became plot holders, three hundred years after the landing and seven hundred years before Solveig was born.
“I hear you did amazingly well in the negotiations with Hanzo,” Magnus said. “They especially commented on your excellent language skills.”
“They are too kind,” Solveig replied. “They used those language skills against me half the time. You never say exactly what you mean in Acheroni. I had to get a little blunt at times to get our point across.”
Magnus laughed.
“You are your father’s daughter, that’s for sure.”
“My father wouldn’t have taken half the noise from them that I had to endure. Of course, they never would have made him. I’m too young to be an authority figure to them.”
“You still got the concessions we needed out of them,” Magnus said. �
�Thirteen percent rate decrease for the graphene quota for the next five years. That will save the company hundreds of millions in the near term.”
“Yes, but everything above our contractual quota went down only three percent,” she said. “And even the big concession was kind of a backhand.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Thirteen is an unlucky number in their culture. When you sound it out in Acheroni, it sounds like their word for ‘ruin.’ You settle for twelve just to avoid thirteen even if it’s not tipping the equation in your favor. But they wouldn’t budge on fourteen, and I sure as hells wouldn’t take twelve if I could get thirteen. It’s not an unlucky number to me. But it was a veiled insult for them to offer it.”
“Well,” Magnus said. “Ruin. I did not know about that. But you got us the sort of break we were hoping for. And we will absolutely revisit those terms in five years. Who knows what the system economy will look like at that point?”
You’ve been dealing with the Acheroni for twenty years and you didn’t know about that, Solveig thought. How in the hells did Papa think you would be a good stand-in for him?
“When we do revisit those terms, I’d be happy to be part of the delegation,” she said. “But I will want to pick the team myself.”
Magnus leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
“Yes, I have heard that some of our people didn’t behave in a way that reflects the best ideals of Ragnar.”
“You have.”
He nodded and flashed a curt and entirely humorless smile.
“Rest assured that appropriate corrective measures will be taken.”
He got his marching orders from Papa already, she thought. And he’s trying to tell me what he thinks I want to hear. Everyone in this place is still under his sway. Except for me.
“Let’s talk without pretense for a moment,” Solveig said. “I didn’t like the way Gisbert embarrassed us in front of our hosts. But I wasn’t the one who put him on the delegation as my minder. I could have done the job without him there. I probably would have done a better job, all things considered. So he had a lapse of judgment. But so did someone else. And accountability always goes up the ladder.”
Magnus’s smile faltered a little.
“My father built all of this,” she said. “And we all benefit from his foresight and hard work. But he’s not infallible. None of us are. We all screw up sometimes. If we fired everyone who does, there’d be no one left here on this floor.”
Magnus looked at her as if he was unsure whether it was appropriate to reply the way he intended. She hadn’t fully understood the sway her father still held over everyone here until just now, as she gently dressed down the president of the company without pushback. Here she was, a twenty-three-year-old woman in her first year on the job, telling a sixty-year-old career executive the way things were—and the way they would be going forward. Solveig knew that she would not have any of this power without the specter of her father hanging above Ragnar Tower at all times. But she would be damned if she didn’t use it to make things happen her way while she could. One day, they would maybe fear and respect her like they did her father. In the meantime, power by proxy would have to do.
“Let’s not overthink it,” she said with a smile. “It wasn’t a huge deal, so let’s not make it one now.”
There was a long pause between them, and Solveig felt a whole lot of gears and levers moving under her feet as it stretched on.
“Of course, Miss Ragnar,” Magnus finally said. “Like you said, let’s not overthink it.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, too,” she replied with a gracious smile. “I just don’t want to assume the worst of someone who has always been loyal to my father.”
“I understand completely, and I agree.”
She looked at her father’s handpicked replacement across the table, and a realization hit her.
This is all as much of a ritual as those Acheroni plays. He can’t fire me, ever. He can’t even contradict me except in gentle, inoffensive terms. He knows Papa’s purpose for me, and he knows his place. I could tell him to fire Gisbert right now or make him the director of operations, and he’d do either without question. His entire authority rests on my willingness to participate in the play. I’m already in the chair behind that oak desk, and he fucking knows it.
“Well, good,” she said. “I’d hate to cause hard feelings. Maybe we should have a few tweaks to company policy regarding off-world trade missions.”
“I think that’s a brilliant suggestion, Miss Ragnar,” Magnus said. “You can be sure I will take it under advisement.”
I’m sure you will, she thought. And I’m sure you thought this meeting was going to go a different way.
“I have a few more things to attend this morning,” she said. “If you don’t have anything else for me right now, I’ll get back to the office if you don’t mind.”
“By all means,” Magnus said without hesitation. “Don’t let me keep you. You did fantastic work on Acheron. I think Ragnar has a bright future with you in our ranks.”
“You’re too kind,” Solveig said. But when she got up and shook his hand, she could see the concern in his eyes, the fear that he may have irritated her. And as much as she hated herself for it, for just a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the satisfying rush of power she felt.
CHAPTER 13
ADEN
The sea was calm, and the ocean wind was blowing gently, and it was the kind of perfect day on Oceana they used in the network advertisement to lure tourists. For the first time, Aden wished for some gray clouds and a little bit of drizzle, to match the weather that was in his soul right now. But he knew that Tristan had loved days like this one, and that the ocean here on his home planet had been his favorite refuge in the system, the place where he would return to feel renewed. Now he had returned one last time, and he’d forever be a part of it after today.
They were on a sail-powered yacht somewhere in the middle of the ocean, many hours out of Adrasteia. Above the gray ironwood planks of the deck, a multitude of brilliantly white sails billowed in the wind, driving the ship through the calm waters with the flapping of the composite cloth and the creaking of the ropes and pulleys as the background noise, accompanied by the sound of the waves and the water splashing against the hull.
Aden was sitting on the top deck, where a luxurious seating arrangement was sheltered from the sun by a computer-controlled umbrella that moved with the ship and the changing daylight. Tess, Maya, and Decker were sitting with him, all at arm’s length from each other, each lost in their own thoughts. They were all appropriately dressed for an Oceanian funeral, light and flowing white fabrics that reminded Aden of the shirts Tristan used to wear when they were off the ship. There were drinks on the low table between them, but the glasses had barely been touched since an attendant had placed them there.
So much is going to remind me of him, he thought. And I was only on the ship for a little over three months.
“Everything about this is wrong,” Maya said. “Henry isn’t here. We’re dressed like this. And we’re all moping.”
“Tristan would have wanted us to do our service in some seedy dive on Pallas One. Or on that beanstalk elevator he kept going on and on about,” Tess replied.
“He’d want us to laugh and talk shit about him, and then get so drunk we can’t walk,” Decker added. The Oceanian formal clothes looked particularly good on her, Aden decided. They were all used to seeing each other in flight suits and whatever they chose to wear on their planetary outings. Captain Decker looked like a different person in those flowing clothes, with her blonde hair tied into an elaborate braid that crowned the sides of her head and then came together in the back, where it fell all the way to a spot below her shoulder blades. With her blue eyes and her fair skin, she was the stereotype of an Oceanian.
“I have a feeling that Tristan is going to prank us in some way before the day is over,” Aden said. “One final time. Just to get the la
st word in.”
“How long are they keeping Henry in stasis?” Tess asked. Decker shrugged and looked off into the distance.
“They didn’t have a vat-grown liver that was suitable for a Palladian. Now they are waiting for one from Pallas. Depends on when they find a donor or a vat copy over there. Probably a few weeks.” Decker looked at Aden. “How are you feeling?”
Aden touched the side of his chest where Milo’s knife had found its way through the ribs to one of his lungs.
“Still sore. And I can’t take full deep breaths yet without it hurting. But I’m fine. Better than Henry or Tristan.”
“I hope you drowned that piece of shit,” Tess said.
“They haven’t found him yet,” Aden replied. “That resort is pretty far out from the leaf. And the current is going out to sea at that spot. He’s probably a quarter of the way around the planet by now. Feeding the fishes and the trilobites somewhere in the equatorial current.”
“The police found one of his knives,” Maya said.
“I knocked it from his hand right before we went over the edge. I think it landed on the balcony.”
“Too bad it’s evidence. I’d like to keep it. Just in case he’s not dead and I’ll ever get a chance to return it. Right into his throat.”
“He was not joking about his skills,” Captain Decker cautioned. “He almost killed four of us. You should hope he’s dead. For more than one reason.”
“What did he say to you?” Tess asked Aden. “When you were speaking Gretian with him.”
“Aden was speaking Gretian with him?” Maya looked at him.
“I thought he had a Gretian accent,” he explained. “I tried to distract him by asking him a question. It was the only thing I could think of at the time.”