Звезда Пандоры

“The point, Dad, is that I didn’t get promoted because the company’s market isn’t growing the way economists predicted. The new factory’s on hold, investment is minimal right now, and not just with us. Phase three space isn’t growing anything like phase two did at the start. We’re not expanding like we used to; the Commonwealth is too stable these days. Population growth is down even with womb tanks; it’s certainly not enough to provide a base population for a couple of new planets every year like we have been doing. We’re too civilized and measured. At this rate we’d never reach the Dyson Pair if all we do is wait around for CST to open wormholes in phase twenty space, or whatever.”

“Mark’s right,” David said. “My office has been working some long-range forecasts, we’re in a slowdown right now. They used to call periods like this ‘golden ages.’ Things tick over nicely and there are no upsets.”

“I thought they were recessions,” Carys muttered.

“No, there’s a difference.”

“It’s all a bunch of crap,” Marty said. “My board isn’t making any cutback plans. Our market’s bullish.”

“Nobody’s talking cutbacks,” David said. “The menu is all about reduced growth rates. If anything, Sheldon is playing smart with the starship project. There’s nothing like a sudden deluge of government cash to accelerate growth rates. And the majority of spending is here on Augusta.”

“That’s not the case, actually.”

Everybody turned to look at Amanda as she snuggled up close to Marty. She smiled back coolly, completely unintimidated. “My family has a board seat on the First-Quad bank, I get to see Intersolar finance tables before they’re massaged. The amount of money spent on the starship is irrelevant in macro-economic terms. Twenty billion Earth dollars is barely a couple of minutes’ worth of exports from this planet.”

“We’re doing well from it,” Liz said. “Bitor-UU won the contract to develop bioscreening kits for the starship.”

“I didn’t know that,” Joanne said. “Congratulations. Are you working on them yourself?”

“Some concepts, yes.”

“One kit, for a super-specialist market,” Amanda said. “There can be no spin-off from it. I rest my case.”

“My girl.” Marty leaned over, and they kissed quite lavishly.

“Why do you think there’s only going to be one starship?” Kyle said. “If you ask me, this is just the beginning. People have really taken to this Dyson Alpha mission; it’s going to be bigger than the Commonwealth Cup by the time it’s ready to fly. If you ask me, it’s a perfect antidote to how moribund phase three space has gotten. Everyone with an ounce of poetry in their soul will leap at the chance of taking off for the wild blue yonder, and settling somewhere that CST will never ensnare with their sticky fingers.”

“Crap,” Marty said. “If that were true, all these poets of yours would go live on Far Away.”

“I meant we could find clean fresh worlds, not some violent anarchist hell.”

“Not going to happen,” Marty insisted. “We’ve had breakaways before. I bet all those worlds that severed ties with the Commonwealth to be ‘free’ are all medieval nightmares now. Isolation never works. Look what a mess Earth was in before Sheldon and Ozzie invented wormholes.”

“Interesting model,” Carys said.

“One world, cut off from the galaxy,” Marty said. “I rest my case.”

David refused to be baited, he just smiled at Mark and rolled his eyes.

“Did you hear, they’ve chosen Wilson Kime to captain the mission?” Carys said. “That must really be choking Nigel Sheldon.”

“Is that a story for you?” Antonio asked.

“Could be. Old enemies have to set aside their rivalries for the greater good of the Commonwealth.”

“Sounds dull if you put it like that.”

Mark started slipping the sausages onto the serving platter. “Food’s up!”

Liz took a while in their bathroom getting ready for bed. She had a shower, and used some of the smaller, more expensive bottles of scent, dabbing the chilly drops on her skin and massaging them in until the flesh seemed to glow. Then she took out the special cream silk lingerie that she knew Mark really liked. Her jet-black hair was combed out until it hung loosely down below her shoulders. Then she put on her gold gown, carefully arranging it so it was almost falling open at the front. She took a contented look in the mirror, reassured once again she’d made the right choice not undergoing pregnancy for him; her belly was still as firm and flat as the day she came out of rejuve ten years ago, and there wasn’t any hint of cellulite on her thighs yet.