“I am sorry,” Holloway said.
“I know,” Isabel said. “Thank you, Jack.” She gave him another peck on the cheek, friendly again, but no more than that. “And now I really do have to go. You’ve made me late for my lunch appointment.” She patted Carl again and walked off, hurrying.
Holloway watched her go for a few minutes and then reached down and clicked the leash back on Carl’s collar. “I think that went well,” he said to Carl. “All things considered.”
Carl looked up at Holloway with what he judged was a fair amount of dubiousness.
“Oh, shut up,” Holloway said. “It wasn’t all my fault.”
Carl and Holloway turned their eyes back down the street just in time to watch Isabel turn the corner and disappear.
Chapter Six
“You’re late,” Bourne said on the steps of ZaraCorp’s administrative building. Holloway came alone; he’d taken Carl back to the skimmer, gave him a zararaptor bone, and turned on the air circulator.
“I was catching up with someone,” Holloway said.
“Saw Isabel, did you,” Bourne said. “You two still antagonizing each other?”
“Funny, she asked me the same question about you,” Holloway said.
“I bet,” Bourne said. “You know, Jack, I’m not one for reading too much into things, but even I can see that when you name a hill for your girlfriend, and then you have that hill strip-mined down to rubble, it’s not a good sign for the relationship.”
“There’s a reason I don’t come to you for advice about my love life,” Holloway said.
“Fair enough,” Bourne said. “I hear she’s seeing someone new.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Holloway said.
“Yeah, one of the new administrative group that transferred planetside a few months ago,” Bourne said. “A lawyer. Assistant general counsel. If you and I had gone to court, he’d probably have been the one that would have gutted your claim like a fish.”
“Sounds like a nice guy,” Holloway said.
“Well, you know,” Bourne said. “The general consensus is that Isabel traded up.”
“I thought we were late,” Holloway said, changing the subject.
“You’re late,” Bourne said. “But I figured you’d be late, because that’s just the sort of antagonistic prick you are. So I told you to come twenty minutes earlier than I needed you here. We’re right on time. Now come on.” He walked up the steps.
“This place is as lovely as ever,” Holloway said, once they were inside the building. On Earth, the Zarathustra Corporation’s headquarters in Dayton, Ohio, were considered to be one of the major architectural achievements of the last century. On Zara XXIII, light-years from the need for public relations and corporate gamesmanship, the local headquarters were a nondescript block of cheap and durable building components designed to house staff efficiently and without undue expense.
“I love what you’ve done with the cubicles,” Holloway said. “I didn’t know you could still get fluorescent lights.”
Bourne ignored this and kept walking, forcing Holloway to follow. “Listen, Jack,” he said, glancing back at his guest. “I know you and I have our problems, but if you can, I want you to behave yourself at this meeting.”
“Why this particular meeting?” Jack said.
“That seam you found,” Bourne said. “It’s big.”
“I know that, Chad,” Holloway said. “I found it, remember?”
“No,” Bourne said. They had arrived at the door of a meeting room. “You think you know. But it’s bigger than even you think it is. It’s attracted a lot of attention here and back home already. It’s become a priority.”
“What does that mean?” Holloway said.
“Promise me, Jack,” Bourne said. “As the contractor who found the seam, you have a vested interest, and we’re required by the E and E charter to keep you in the loop with everything. And I will. But you have to promise me that you’re going to behave yourself.”
“Or what?” Holloway said, genuinely curious.
“There’s no ‘or what,’ Jack,” Bourne said. “This isn’t just you and me sticking each other with pins to see who screams first anymore. I’m not threatening you. I’m not making demands. I’m asking. Please. Behave.”
Holloway was quiet for a minute. “You say this find is big,” he said, to Bourne.
“Yeah,” Bourne said.
“How big?” Holloway asked.
“So big that if I didn’t happen to be your ZaraCorp handler, the only way I’d even get to be near this meeting is if I was told to bring in some sandwiches,” Bourne said.
“This is different from your daily life how?” Holloway asked.
“Jesus, Jack,” Bourne said. “Are you even listening to me?”
“It was a joke,” Holloway said.
“You’ve told better ones,” Bourne said, and then noticed the sudden smile on Holloway’s face. “What?”
“That’s the second time I’ve heard that today, too,” he said.
“Jack,” Bourne said.
“Relax, Chad,” Holloway said. “I hear you. I’ll behave. I promise.”
“Thank you,” Bourne said.
“But after all that, this meeting better live up to the billing,” Holloway said.
“Well, you tell me,” Bourne said. He opened the door to the meeting room. Inside was the entire upper echelon of the local ZaraCorp management.
“Okay, that is impressive,” Holloway muttered to Bourne. Bourne didn’t respond.
“And here is the man who just made Zarathustra Corporation’s annual report that much brighter this year,” said Alan Irvine, ZaraCorp VP and Planetary Director for Zara XXIII. He smiled and got up from his chair to shake Holloway’s hand, and gave him a too-hearty slap on the back. “Mr. Holloway. You are most welcome here.”
“Thanks,” Holloway said.
“Please, sit,” Irvine motioned to an empty chair at the table. There was only one; Bourne, apparently, would spend the meeting standing, along with a series of other underlings who unobtrusively lined the walls. “I assume you’re familiar with the rest of the crew here.”
“Yes,” Holloway said, and nodded generally down the table. “I’ve been to the ZaraCorp holiday parties.”
“Of course you have,” Irvine said. “I seem to recall you on the arm of that biologist of ours. Warner?”
“Wangai,” Holloway said.
“That Indian?” Irvine asked.
“Kenyan,” Holloway said. “By way of Oxford.”
“Right,” Irvine said. “Still seeing her?”
“Saw her earlier today,” Holloway said.
“Wonderful,” Irvine said. He turned and motioned to one person in particular. “Here’s someone you don’t know, though. Mr. Holloway, this is Wheaton Aubrey the Seventh. He’s doing a tour of the ZaraCorp divisions and properties and happened to be here when you called in this claim. You may recognize the name.”
“Sure. One very much like it is on all my checks,” Holloway said. He could sense Bourne stiffening up behind him. This was very close to not behaving. Fortunately a small ripple of laughter went around the table at the comment.
“So it is,” Irvine said. “And likely not too far in the future, it’ll be his signature there.”
“Hopefully later rather than sooner,” Aubrey said in a tone that to Holloway did not suggest that the former was in fact all that much more preferable than the latter. Aubrey turned in his seat to face Holloway. “I see from your file you went to Duke.”