The mirror above the sink showed him a puffy-faced, bleary-eyed unshaven image. Will she want me? he asked himself. I can give her everything, everything a woman could possibly desire. But will she turn me down again? Will she stick with Fuchs?
Not when the man is dead, he thought. Then she’ll have no choice. The competition will be over.
His hands trembled as he reached for his electric toothbrush. Frowning at this weakness, Humphries opened his medicine cabinet and rummaged through the vials lined up there in alphabetical order. A cure for every malady, he said to himself. Most of them were recreational drugs, cooked up by some of the bright researchers he kept on his payroll. I need something to calm me down, Humphries realized. Something to get me through this conference without losing my temper, without making Amanda afraid of me.
As he pawed through the medicine cabinet, the image of Diane Verwoerd’s troubled, frightened face flashed in his mind. I wiped her superior smile away, he thought, relishing the memory of her surprise and fear. He tried to remember how many women had carried clones of his, all to no avail. Several had died; one had produced a monstrosity that lived less than a day. Diane’s strong, he told himself. She’ll come through for me. And if she doesn’t—he shrugged. There are always other women for the job.
He found the little blue bottle that he was looking for. Just one, he said silently; just enough to get me through the meeting on an even keel. Later on, I’ll need something else, something stimulating. But not yet. Not this morning. Later, when Amanda’s here with me.
Pancho dressed carefully for the conference in a pumpkin orange silk blouse and slacks with a neat patchwork jacket embellished with highlights of glitter. This is an important conference and I’m representing Astro Corporation, she told herself. Better look like a major player. She thought she would be the first one to show up for the conference, but when she got there Doug Stavenger was already standing by the big window that swept along one wall of the spacious room, looking relaxed in an informal cardigan jacket of teal blue.
“Hello,” he called cheerfully. Gesturing toward the side table laden with coffee urns and pastries, he asked, “Have you had your breakfast?”
“I could use some coffee,” Pancho said, heading for the table.
The conference room was part of the suite of offices that Selene maintained in one of the twin towers that supported the expansive dome of the Grand Plaza. Gazing through the window down into the Plaza itself, Pancho saw the lovingly maintained lawn and flowering shrubbery, the fully-leafed trees dotting the landscape. There was the big swimming pool, built to attract tourists, and the outdoor theater with its gracefully curved shell of lunar concrete. Not many people on the walks this early in the morning, she noticed. Nobody in the pool.
Stavenger smiled at her. “Pancho, are you seriously going to try to hammer out your differences with Humphries, or is this conference going to be a waste of time?”
Pancho grinned back at him as she picked up a coffee cup and started to fill it with steaming black brew. “Astro is willing to agree to a reasonable division of the Belt. We never wanted a fight; it was Humphries who started the rough stuff.”
Stavenger pursed his lips. “I guess it all depends, then, on how you define the word ‘reasonable.'”
“Hey, look,” Pancho said. “There’s enough raw materials in the Belt to satisfy ever’body. Plenty for all of us. It’s Humphries who wants to take it all.”
“Are you talking about me, Pancho?”
They turned and saw Humphries striding through the door, looking relaxed and confident in a dark blue business suit.
“Nothing I haven’t said to your face, Humpy, old buddy,” Pancho replied.
Humphries raised an eyebrow. “I’d appreciate it if you referred to me as Mr. Humphries when the other delegates get here.”
“Sensitive?”
“Yes. In return for your consideration I’ll try to refrain from using phrases such as ‘guttersnipe’ or ‘grease monkey.'”
Stavenger put a hand to his forehead. “This is going to be a lovely morning,” he groaned.