Arthur Clarke - Richter 10

“So are you satisfied?” Mr. Mui asked from outside the glowing world. Only the COO was allowed inside the sphere.

“Of course I’m satisfied,” Li said, surprised at the question.

“Then you found tonight’s results a success?”

“Why are you asking me these questions? We were victorious, were we not?”

“According to my figures,” Mui said, “we lost over three hundred seats in state houses around the country. Yo-Yu now has a major foothold.”

“Inconsequential. We retain the power.”

“The political power springs from beneath in this country … through local laws, local statutes. Yo-Yu has outright control of fifteen legislative houses, which means fifteen venues from which to attack our economic base and expand their own.”

“You’re making too much of this,” Li said.

“My reports will mirror my thoughts. Others will judge. Also, my polls show you made a major mistake with the Islamic issue.”

“How so?”

“In the local elections, Yo-Yu candidates took a soft wait-and-see line on the issue of an Islamic state as soon as we came out strongly against it. They favored negotiations over confrontations. Their success in state races is directly attributable to that factor.”

“I disagree.”

“You gave them fear,” Mui said, “but that simply tied them to the greater fear of the global Islamic movement, which people feel is too large to challenge.”

“I did what had to be done to win the election. All I need to do to remedy the situation is to sacrifice someone on the altar of Islam, put the blame on him, then become more compromising. By the time the next elections come around, this will no longer be an issue.”

“Who shall you sacrifice?”

“President Gideon has let the Vice President make most of the anti-NOI speeches. Perhaps it’s time for Mr. Gabler to step down.” Li smiled. “After all, we can’t have a racist as Vice President, now can we?”

“And who would you put in his place?” Li smiled again, thinking of the frames of Sumi Chan in her bath. With Sumi, control would never be a problem. “I’ve been thinking that it might be time for an Asian-American to step into the forefront of American politics,” he said. “I’ll study the issue in the next few days.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“Perhaps. Are you finished attacking me?”

“Sir,” Mui said respectfully. “It is my job to question your decisions, just as it was your job to question your predecessor’s decisions. I respectfully submit that you owe me an apology. Your attitude must also go in my reports, I’m sure you know.”

Li nodded. All they needed were knives to make the bloodletting more public. “I am sorry to have offended you. Is there anything else that will go into your report?”

“Yes,” Mui said, and Li could see the shine of his smiling teeth in the outer darkness. “I’m going to tell them that your deliberate falsification of earthquake prediction figures could potentially destroy the economic viability of this entire sector.”

“Oh, come now,” Li said. “You cannot really believe that clown Crane can predict earthquakes?”

“Why not?”

Li felt anger well up. “Because it’s impossible, that’s why!”

“Ah,” Mui said easily. “Your knowledge and certitude are obviously much more advanced than mine. I would say, wait and see, just like Yo-Yu. But you, Mr. Director, are willing to bet your life on the impossibility of Crane making predictions. Bravo.”

“You’re mocking me,” Li said.

“Yes, sir,” Mui replied. “I am doing just that.”

“You know,” Lanie said from the doorway to the living room of Crane’s chalet, cleaned and spiffed up for the occasion, “we’ve all got to drink rum because that’s what Crane has stocked.”

Newcombe smiled at her. Her eyes were glinting. She was pumped up, energized by her success in lobbying Kate Masters all day. When Kate had heard from Stoney that he was coming to the Foundation, she’d decided they should meet up there. But she’d come early, way early, and sought out Lanie immediately. Newcombe wasn’t thrilled. He didn’t like Kate Masters. Something about her showy clothes, her brashness, her mouth bothered him. And he hated the fact that she’d struck up a friendship with Lanie. The Vogelman Procedure was Kate’s fault … and it had been the first rupture in his renewed relationship with Lanie. She came closer to him now. “I’m glad you’ve decided to talk to me, Lanie,” he murmured.

“I had a couple drinks. Makes things easier. I don’t mean to avoid you really. I just don’t handle this kind of thing very well.”

He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, but wouldn’t allow himself to do it. “Maybe, if it bothers you so much, it means you’ve made a mistake.”

“No, Dan, really. Things are better this way.”

He closed the distance between them and seized her by the arms, the drink she held spilling on them both. “Things are not better and you know it.” He put his arms around her, but she stood stiffly in his loose embrace. “Dammit, Lanie,” he whispered, “come home. We’ll forget everything that’s happened and start over.”

She pushed away. “And forget everything that’s going to happen? You’ve chosen a path for yourself, Dan, that I can’t travel with you.”

“We’ll just see. We—”

“Everybody!” Kate Masters called from the living room. “Quick … gather around. I’ve got some news for all of you.”

“I wonder what’s going on?” Lanie asked, turning quickly to avoid Newcombe and walking back into the living room.

He followed dutifully, not able to gauge the intensity of her words. He didn’t mind her being angry at him. It was the pulling away that hurt. Things had been so good this time. What had happened to drive her so far away? He couldn’t believe it was the NOI stance. She knew he had a big mouth. And the publication? Didn’t his giving the big check to Crane show the goodness of his intentions?

Crane and Whetstone, who’d arrived only minutes before, joined the group, drinks in their hands. Burt Hill lay half asleep on a sofa near where Masters stood.

“I’ve been conferencing with my board for the last half hour,” Kate said. “And we’ve made an executive decision.”

“Let’s hear it,” Whetstone said.

Kate ran her hands through her red hair. “I’m waiting for the drum roll.”

Burt Hill pounded rhythmically on his stomach.

Kate turned to Crane. “As president of the Women’s Political Association, I am pleased to announce that we have reconsidered our decision to take your grant money away and are awarding you, for calendar 2025, a sum of five million dollars for earthquake research.”

Crane roared with pleasure as everyone applauded. Masters turned to Lanie. “And you have this woman and her eloquent plea to thank for it. I used some frames of Lanie’s talk with me today to show the board. It passed unanimously.”

Lanie hugged Kate, then turned to Crane, who had made his way to her side. The two of them shared a long, meaningful look before hugging fiercely. Newcombe felt dark vibrations.

“My thanks to the Women’s Political Association,” Crane said. “You have shown great wisdom.”

Standing in a loose circle around Kate, everyone laughed, Crane smiling broadly. The jubilation subsided in moments. Whetstone cast a shrewd glance at Dan and Lanie. “Crane tells me,” he said, “that you tracked the sabotage on the Memphis quake. Hard to believe anyone so closely associated with the project would be that malicious, isn’t it?”