“Get that briefing to me. Keep it short,” said Davis, and walked back towards where they’d entered the bay.
Eric told the others he’d been on a tour, and had to write a brief on the flight tests he wanted to make. Dillon and Hendricks gave up the table to him, and went away with the manual. The techs continued work inside Sparrow, disconnecting instruments used to measure heat flux earlier in the hour. Eric used a legal pad on the table, scribbled a few words, and pulled the folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it, and a small photograph of a man was there. On the paper were words written in neat, block lettering.
‘The man in the picture is considered dangerous to our project. If he’s ever seen in the portal area he should be immediately detained and arrested.’
It was signed ‘Mister Brown’.
Eric looked again.
The man in the photograph was John Coulter.
Why am I not surprised? thought Eric.
CHAPTER TWENTY
NEGOTIATIONS
Light rain made the streets slick, but did not deter speeders. By a stroke of exceptional luck, Eric found a space in the little parking lot and darted into it. It was just after sunrise, but the Coffee Pot was full. A line of people waited by the door, others crowded in the adjacent souvenir shop.
John Coulter was seated at a table in the back of the restaurant, and waved vigorously at Eric when he arrived. Eric sat down, shook rainwater from his furled umbrella, and put it on the floor beside him.
“I bet people don’t even slow down when it snows here,” said Eric.
“Not that I’ve noticed,” said John, reached over and shook Eric’s hand. “Lots of empty country out here. People like to get through it as fast as they can. Takes big city folks some time to get used to it.” He took a long envelope out of his briefcase, and handed it to Eric. “Here’s your contract, as promised. Don’t open it here. Read it at your leisure, edit as you please. If you don’t like the consultant fee I put in there, write in your own number. I’m easy, and it isn’t my money. My client expects the information and services he needs, and your loyalty in providing both. The contract is a formality, of course. It’s only for the eyes of the signers.”
“And who are the signers?”
“Yourself, my client, and I’ll sign as witness to your signature. My client’s cipher will be a scribbled symbol, since he must remain anonymous.”
Eric paused to open his menu, and then said, “I understand why your client wants anonymity, but I have a problem with it.”
Another pause of a few heartbeats, and Eric studied his menu.
“And why is that a problem, Doctor Price?” said John softly.
Eric looked over the top of his menu at John’s steady gaze. “I’m used to knowing who I work for, and what their motivation is for asking me to do what I do.”
“This is private enterprise, not government. The motive is money, and recovery of stolen property. What more do you need?” John Coulter had a way of narrowing his eyes when he smiled, and it was not pleasant to look at.
“I don’t like working with intermediaries. Orders have a way of being corrupted when they’re relayed by someone.”
“I transmit my client’s wishes without corruption, Doctor Price. If I had ever made a single error he would no longer employ me. I could even be dead. You’d be less likely to get accurate information directly. My client’s use of the English language is quite poor, and I must translate for him.”
“I speak Russian and Polish fluently, also German and French and others. Take your pick.”
“Ah,” said Coulter, trying to look surprised. “I’ll have to mention that to my client, but it’ll make no difference. His identity must remain unknown to you.”
So I tried, thought Eric. “My point is that it might become a problem if I’m ordered to do something nasty enough to require a surcharge. I don’t like people negotiating for me with the big boss.”
Coulter hadn’t opened his menu, was studying Eric’s face as a waitress approached them with a silex of black coffee. “Why don’t we order, now? Perhaps an advance payment and a trial assignment would show our good faith before you sign anything.”
They placed their orders, and the waitress went away. Coulter pulled out a business envelope bulging with content and heavily taped over the flap. He pushed it across the table to Eric. “Call it a retainer,” he said.
Eric hefted the envelope. “Retainers are for services to be rendered in the future, so what is this for?”
“Information, Eric. You are associated with the transfer and development of a technology that will have considerable potential on the open market. My client’s stolen product can control that market if development here is successful, but it seems there have been considerable problems with that. It has recently come to our attention that since your arrival several technical breakthroughs have been achieved. They have been achieved through your own insights and inspirations, far beyond what others have been able to do. Your talents are of interest to my client, and your knowledge of the project would be vital in his development of a commercial prototype. The project leader’s salary would make a federal pension look like pocket change, believe me. But to develop the prototype he needs information in complete detail about every breakthrough you achieve, as it happens. He also marvels at your recent successes. Any references you can give, or names of people who have made useful suggestions, would also be useful to him. We have gone as far as we can with the written materials you’ve had to work with. With your sudden insights, we know you are close to flight-testing. We want to know how you’ll be proceeding with that.”
Coulter pulled a disk from his briefcase. “Use your home machine to make your reports. Put them on this disk, and erase the originals, and call me when you have something. My number is on the disk. Send nothing electronically. I want your first report within two days. If that seems too soon, then inspect the contents of that envelope.”
Now Coulter handed him a key. “This goes to a postal box at the post office by the Y. When you’ve called me, put the disk in the box, and I’ll pick it up when I can. When you call me, all you have to say is that the package is ready, and hang up.”
“I love drama,” said Eric. “Maybe we should adopt code names for ourselves.”
Even as he said it, Eric knew he’d gone too far in antagonizing someone he already knew was not a friend.
Coulter’s reply was soft, yet crisp. “I’m not trying to amuse you, Doctor Price. This is serious business, and people have been killed for working with us. The same could happen to you.”
Eric’s face flushed. “Who has been killed?”
“A man who was doing very much like what you’re doing now. You have essentially replaced him.”
“Johnson?”
“That was the name he used. He was murdered, you know. You were there.”
“My, how you get around. I suppose Leon told you that.”
“We have many sources, Eric.”
“Whoever killed Johnson tried to kill me. You must know that, too. For all I know, your client arranged the killing and now I’m being set up for the same treatment.”
“Utter nonsense. Johnson was our most valuable asset in the early stages of the project. We think military people killed him. They’re the ones you need to watch out for.”
“Including Colonel Davis?”
“We’re not sure about him. He’s an opportunist.”
“And I’m not?”
Coulter smiled. “You might be. You have to prove your worth to us, Eric. The envelope there is a token of our faith in you.”