The reception was held in the ballroom of the complex known as the Constellation Suites—a part of the residential sector containing accommodation, catering, pool, and sports facilities, intended for use by visiting business people, relatives, and friends. It was a splendid affair indeed, with over two thousand guests arrayed in thematic South Sea costumes, garlands, robes, and hula-hula skirts, as well as colorful and glittery conventional styles. Marissa and Mervyn, respectively blushing and handsome, cut cake, tossed garter and bouquet, smiled, posed, and received lines of congratulations and tributes. Hamilton delivered a speech laced with jokes and witty anecdotes targeted at some of those present, proposed toasts, and got in a few quotes; performers and musicians, including a full orchestra and two choirs, entertained; lavish food offerings graced the tables; profusions of flowers decked the walls, the halls, and the people. There were lots of flowers.
When the formal parts were over, Hamilton joined his daughter for the first waltz to commence the remainder of the day’s festivities. He might spend a lot of his life in first-class seats and at conference tables these days, but he could still glide a step or two. Adoring matrons in jeweled gowns and tiaras gazed on admiringly; friends and patrons of the corporation, and henchmen from the organization chart’s ionospheric levels smiled; management lackeys and their spouses, and assorted hangers-on tried to look as if they felt they fitted in. Hamilton Gilder was a happy man. He liked life when he and his tribespeople were the center of attraction, and just at this moment, the island headquarters-in-space of the empire he had created seemed like the center of the universe. Yet, a part of him was worried. It was a worry that he had talked about only with Thornton Velte and one or two others of his innermost clique. And Marissa, of course—but then, it was she who had brought the matter to him in the first place. Ever since then, she and Mervyn had been so in demand that this was the first moment he had found to have a word with her away from other ears after having any time to think about it.
“You really think this Khal is the real thing?” he murmured, smiling through his teeth at the onlookers as he led Marissa through an underarm twirl and smoothly back into a one-two-three box step. “He might know what it is that’s broken out down there?”
“It was uncanny, Dad. He knew things that you and I had said over the link from here less than an hour before—things that nobody could have known. And those eyes! I could tell from them alone.”
“I always said you had this intuition.”
“That’s what he told me too. His note said I have rare gifts of insight and understanding.”
“So, should I halt this project, do you think? Thornton’s told me that I’d be out of my mind. It would lose us a lot of friends—big friends.”
“There are higher things to existence, Dad.”
Hamilton nodded and reminded himself. It would still be a tough decision. Thornton and the others didn’t know the things he knew. He’d tried to share his insights at times, but he knew now that such efforts would always be futile. Seed could only take in ground that was ready.
They toured the floor in a series of vigorous Viennese whirls. People applauded. “And he told you it could start here too?” Hamilton said, just a touch breathlessly. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that to Thornton.”
“Why? Don’t you believe it? The Ancients were able to manipulate physical probabilities, remember? Impossible things can happen.”
“Oh, I know what can happen. But Thornton and the others are settled that this guy’s a crazy.”
“Just be careful, Dad. Don’t forget, you’re the prime instigator.”
“I am being careful. . . . Look, that hideous Krentz woman is waving. Wave back at her and smile. Her husband is a patent attorney who does us favors. . . .”
* * *
Forty minutes later, Hamilton was summoned away from a plate of roast guinea fowl and dressed pork to an incoming call from a person on a list that his staff had been told were to be put through, wherever he was, whatever he was doing. He went to take it in an office along a corridor, away from the noise from the ballroom.