“Why not try seeing it not as harassment but as opportunity?” Korven suggested sagely. “Most men would.”
“If it were the sexy, good-looking ones who came on, I might,” Amanda agreed with a sigh. “But why does it always have to be exactly the opposite kind?”
“Who are we waiting for?” Hamils cut in. “Victor?”
“He’ll be in when he’s finished a call he’s on,” Moleno said, nodding. “We thought half an hour here to get to know each other. Then we’ll collect a couple of others and go for lunch.”
“Have we picked a place?” Korven asked.
“Just downstairs.” Moleno looked at the three from CLC. “It’s one of those weeks, I’m afraid. Everyone’s flying with both feet off the ground.”
Hamils nodded. “What kind of mood is Victor in today?” he asked.
Korven turned his head toward Amanda. “Oh, I don’t know. What would you say? Is the beast human today?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’d say so. He wasn’t devouring anyone the last time I saw him.”
“We think he’s human,” Korven told Hamils.
Corrigan looked at Hamils inquiringly. “Victor’s okay,” Hamils said. “But at times he can be a bit . . .” He looked diplomatically to the three F & F people before choosing a word. “What would you call it? Temperamental? . . .”
“Obstinate. Opinionated. Bombastic,” Korven supplied, with the candid air of somebody saying what everyone else knew perfectly well anyway. “But we all love him, just the same.”
“Just don’t argue with him,” Hamils translated. “If he gets something wrong, let it keep and tell us afterward. We’ll straighten it out later.”
There were a few seconds of silence, seeming to say that nothing more could make things any clearer after that. Then Amanda treated Corrigan to one of the smiles that talk-show hostesses use to get the show going again after an awkward hiatus. “How much do you know about the kind of business we do here, Joe?” she inquired.
“Not a great deal, to be honest. Something to do with marketing and forecasting, isn’t it?”
“Those terms are a little obsolete now,” Korven said. “You can charge more for `econodynamic trend analysis.’ ”
“Ah. Yes.”
At that moment the door opened as if on a spring, and a short, stockily built figure marched in and stumped to the end of the table, where he deposited some sheets of printed figures and a notepad. He had a smooth, tanned head fringed by dark locks that reflected a sheen, heavy eyebrows, and a solid, rounded face with pugnacious jaw and chin. His fingers were thick and stubby, with tufts of hair on the backs between the joints, but the nails were well manicured. He was wearing a dark three-piece with hairline stripe and—a rare sight for the day and age—a white carnation pinned in his left lapel. Mat Hamils knew Borth, of course, but Glinberg apparently had not dealt with him directly in previous visits. Korven completed the introductions.
“So you work for Therese Loel,” Borth said, taking in Glinberg with an unblinking stare that gave away nothing. His voice was blunt, direct, straight to the point.
“That’s right,” Glinberg confirmed.
“Harry’s the ESG specialist, based out of Blawnox,” Hamils filled in. “We call him in as needed.”
Borth’s gaze shifted to Corrigan. “But you’re the guy Therese said they’d send up, who knows about the computers that let you play Ping-Pong in your head.”
“Joe’s from the main corporate R and D facility, also at Blawnox,” Hamils supplied.
Corrigan frowned. There was some confusion already in what Borth had said. DNC coupled direct into the nervous system. The simulated Ping-Pong was something different: a demonstration that the SDC people used to show off their VIV helmet, which utilized the regular senses. But before Corrigan could frame a reply, Borth changed tack:
“Have they told you much about the kind of business we’re in here?”
“We were just about to when you came in,” Amanda said. Her manner had changed with Borth in the room. She was all seriousness and attention now—no longer a vivacious artiste, but suddenly the business professional.
Borth remained standing, and spoke moving back and forth at the end of the table. Presenting to a group seemed to be his natural style.