felt concerned that the powers which others attributed to him didn’t exist; and
what was so ironic was that, for the first time, those powers should be neither
supernatural nor superhuman. Though he continued to display confidence and
staunch optimism in the presence of the team, inwardly he had never felt so
helpless and frustrated.
Then he received a summons to meet with Leaherney, Giraud, and Caspar Lang in
Globe I. His cooperation in treating the subject as confidential would be
appreciated, the message said—evidently Lang was learning at last that ordering
Zambendorf to do anything wasn’t the best way to get results. Accordingly,
Zambendorf reciprocated by keeping the matter to himself.
“We’ve decided to fill you in on some developments that happened only recently,”
Daniel Leaherney said, stirring his coffee while seated in the private lounge
adjoining the executive offices. “The fact is we found the Genoese to be
obstinate and uncooperative, and suspended negotiations with them some time ago.
We’re exploring an alternative relationship with the Paduans, which is showing
more promise.”
“Hmm. I see . . .” Zambendorf grunted noncommittally on the opposite side of the
table, not seeing at all. He sipped from his own cup and looked up at
Leaherney’s solid, heavy-jowled face topped by steely gray, straight-combed
hair. Since liftout from Earth orbit Leaherney had tended to avoid Zambendorf,
leaving it to his subordinates, usually Caspar Lang, to handle communications;
his sudden call for a face-to-face meeting, especially over a subject considered
too sensitive to be made public knowledge, could only mean that he needed
Zambendorf for something. None of the possibilities that had occurred to
Zambendorf as to what that something might be had left him feeling particularly
convinced, and his responses so far had been guarded but curious.
“The Paduan outlook is more practical and takes better account of immediate
realities,” Leaherney said in answer to the unvoiced question written across
Zambendorf’s face. “The problem with the Genoese is that they insist on clinging
to a totally unrealistic ideology which not only impedes their own chances of
making any meaningful progress in the long term, but also is incompatible with
our own policies and interests.”
In other words the Paduans might be persuaded to accept the deal that he had
told Arthur to reject, Zambendorf thought to himself. He already knew from his
conversations with Arthur and Galileo that the Terran goal was to recruit Taloid
assistance in bringing portions of Titan’s phenomenal industrial potential under
directed control, and turning the moon into an organized mass-production
facility capable of supplying Earth’s needs on a scale that would dwarf the
existing capacity of all its nations put together. Needless to say, whoever
controlled such an operation would be worth billions and might well come to
command incontestable political power on a truly global scale for the first time
in history. But Zambendorf still couldn’t see where he fitted into it all. He
shifted his eyes to Giraud, who had been the spokesman in the recent talks with
the Paduans, as he had been earlier with Arthur and the Genoese.
Giraud, fair-skinned, with a high, rounded forehead, wide blue-gray eyes, and
hair that was receding in the center and thinning on top, glanced at Leaherney
for a moment, then said, “Paduan society seems to be dominated by religious
dogma and beliefs to a far greater degree than the Genoese. At least, that’s the
way it looks right now.”
“By mystical notions of some kind, anyway,” Zambendorf suggested. He had formed
a similar impression of the Paduans from his conversations with Galileo. “Any
interpretations we make at this stage are bound to contain a strong subjective
element.”
“Well, whatever,” Giraud said. “But using the analogy for now, power within the
Paduan state seems to be divided between the clergy and a secular nobility. Our
contact has been with the leading figure of the latter group—the king, if you
will. We’ve named him Henry. He’d give a lot to be able to ditch the priests and
run the state his own way.”
Zambendorf nodded slowly to himself as the first of the pieces fit together.
Henry no doubt commanded large segments of the Taloid labor force that the