Звезда Пандоры

“That moron Johansson believed one of the charities funding my observation was a front for the Starflyer. That’s the alien…”

“I know what the Starflyer is. When did this happen, exactly?”

“Right after the attack on the Second Chance. Myo had the authority to do pretty much anything she wanted when they gave her that case, including yanking me out of rejuve.”

“And she’d tracked down that connection. Why?”

“I’ve no idea. She just said she was looking for anomalies; anyone connected to the Second Chance project was reviewed. But the queer thing is that Johansson knew she’d find the connection, he told Wendy to give Myo a message.”

“Really, what was it?”

“Stop concentrating on the details, it’s the big picture that counts.”

“Weird. Do you remember which charity Johansson was suspicious about?”

“Yeah, the Cox Educational charity.”

“Never heard of them.” She patted his arm as she stood up. “You know what you’ve just been doing, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Talking about what happened to your previous body as if it was you. You’re starting to connect your body lives. Well done. I told you I was good for you.” She blew a kiss at his startled young face and went into the bathroom.

The big sunken tub was filled to its rim, with a burg of soapy bubbles floating on the surface. Mellanie stepped in, sighing gratefully as she sat down in the warm scented water. She turned the nozzles on, welcoming the gentle flow of air bubbles around her body as they eased away the aches. Dudley hadn’t been gentle the last time. His desperation and fierceness had made it a lot more interesting than his usual monotonous perfunctory act.

She turned up the music and rested her head back on the rim cushions. Her virtual hand touched the SI icon. “I need some financial information,” she said.

“You know we cannot provide confidential records, Mellanie.”

“I just need what’s on public record. It might be a little difficult to track it all down, that’s all, and I don’t want to go through the show’s researchers.” And I can’t use poor old Paul Cramley anymore.

“Very well.”

“The Cox Educational charity helped fund Dr. Bose’s observation. How much did they give him?”

“In total, one point three million Earth dollars, spread over eleven years.”

“Where does their money come from?”

“It is a private charity.”

“What does that mean?”

“The source of the money is not open to inspection.”

“Okay, so who runs it?”

“The registered commissioners are three lawyers, Ms. Daltra, Mr. Pomanskie, and Mr. Seeton, who all work for Bromley, Waterford, and Granku, a New York legal firm.”

“Humm.” She ran a sponge along her legs. “What else does the Cox support?”

“It contributed to over a hundred universities and colleges across the Commonwealth. Do you want the list?”

“Not right now.”

“Would you like the total amount of money given to the other institutions.”

She opened her eyes, suddenly very interested—it wasn’t like the SI to volunteer information. “Yes please.”

“Seventy thousand Earth dollars.”

“For each one?”

“No. That is the total payout.”

“Hell. How long has it been going for?”

“Fourteen years. It shut down two years after Dudley Bose observed the envelopment. Six months after Paula Myo interviewed Dudley Bose.”

“So, most hated man in the Commonwealth,” Carys said with a taunting smile. “Quite a title. As voted for on the Maxis unisphere poll. Never guessed my little nephew would be so famous.”

Mark just grunted in response, and wormed down deeper into his favorite chair. They were all sitting around in the living room, giving Carys a taste of last year’s Ulon Valley wine before lunch.

“Nobody here cares,” he said. “It’s not important.”

“Oh, yes. It’s only relevant to us, isn’t it. Us, being decadent metropolitan types practicing our intellectual snobbery over you poor country bumpkins.”

Mark shrugged, smiling. “You said it.”

“Wake up and smell the coffee,” she snapped. “The media is going to screw your beautiful little town into the bedrock: I know from my contacts that Alessandra Baron is already planning a follow up. Have you tried booking a skiing holiday here for this next season? I did. They’re offering fifty percent discounts already. Nobody’s coming.”

“And you can fix all that, can you?”

Carys exchanged a glance with Liz. “You need some serious PR, Mark. And I’m the only expert you’ve got.”

“You called her!” Mark accused Liz.

“You have to listen to somebody, baby. Everyone around here is being very careful not to lay any blame. To your face.”

He turned to Carys, appealing. “I never said it the way that interview came out. They edited me to make it sound bad.”

“The technical term is raunching up,” Carys said. “They always do it. We can use that to fight back.”

“How?” he said suspiciously.

“I can get you interviewed on other shows. Live studio interviews, so they can’t mess with your message. You’ll need a lot of coaching before we let you on, and you’ll have to grow a decent sense of humor. But it can be done.”

“I’ve got a sense of humor,” he protested indignantly.