CRADLE OF SATURN BY JAMES P. HOGAN

And, indeed, the message from Idorf up in the Osiris, inviting Keene to visit the ship, was four items farther down. Idorf regretted that he would have to leave it to Keene to get himself up there, however. Any others that Keene might wish to bring too would also be welcome, since right now there was plenty of space aboard. Keene killed the screen, leaned back, and thought it over. No doubt there would be official vessels shuttling up and down between the ship and the surface for one reason or another that he could probably get a place on, but if his experience was anything to go by it would be a tedious and officious business. The Amspace trial that Wally had said was scheduled to take place in two weeks offered an obvious alternative possibility. Keene warmed to the idea as he mulled over it. If they could kill two birds with one stone, then why not three? He wasn’t listed to go on the trial as things stood, since it involved simply a conventional type of engine that didn’t involved him, but that could be changed. They were using a minishuttle; there would be plenty of spare room. . . .

He sat forward to the screen again and called Wally Lomack at Kingsville.

“Lan, say, what’s up? How’d it all go in Washington?”

“Pretty good, Wally. There’s been more since, too. I’ll be over at Kingsville tomorrow after I talk to Marvin and his people in town in the morning, so I’ll fill you in then. Right now, I wanted to talk about the hybrid and Montemorelos mission.”

“It’s going ahead—targeted for two weeks from now. I sent you a note.”

“I know. I’ve seen it. I don’t suppose you were planning on flying yourself, right?”

Lomack looked surprised. “Why, no. It’s just a regular trial. Why would I want to go? I’ve done enough of all that in my time. That’s what we have crew for.”

“But you’re CDE. You could change the flight roster if you had a good reason.”

“Lan, quit playing games. What’s this about?”

“How would you like to see the inside of the Kronians’ ship?”

“The Osiris?”

“Right. I’ve got us an invitation. The fee is that you provide the transport up there.”

It took Lomack several seconds to satisfy himself that Keene was serious. He shook his head in amazement. “Hell, you were only with them one evening. What did you do, offer them some free consulting?”

Keene grinned. “As if they needed any. . . . Oh, come on, you know me, Wally. Smooth operator when the occasion calls. So what do you think? Can do?”

Lomack thought, inclined his head, and pursed his lips. “It’s a tempting thought, all right. . . .”

“We can offer other places too,” Keene said. “Any number up to what a minishuttle can carry. That should help make it more popular.”

“That’s true enough.” Lomack chewed his lip for a moment longer, and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. No promises, mind, but I’ll put it to Harry. Good enough?”

“Good enough. Take care, Wally.”

“You too.”

Keene cleared down and sat staring at the blank screen, savoring for a few moments the rare feeling of everything in life going right for a change. Murphy’s Law also operated on itself, which meant that it didn’t always work . . . which meant that it did work. He’d never quite been able to figure out the logic. He got up and sauntered into Vicki’s office, where she was busy over pages of program code that she had been working on with Judith. “How’s life on the lower decks?” he inquired, scanning casually over the sheets.

“It’s going to be tight, but with Neuzender’s input from Princeton I think we’ll make it.”

“Good.” Keene let it hang for a second. “Maybe we’ve a cause for celebration, then. Never say that the firm doesn’t appreciate the galley slaves.”

Vicki glanced up. “What does that mean, Lan? Another happy hour at the Bandana?”

“Well, it would give you a chance to tell me about Robin’s mammoths, which you were going to send and never did,” Keene said.

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