Charles Sheffield - Starfire

Maddy was in a far more senior position, and the last thing she wanted was to explain to Gordy Rolfe her reasons for leaving. He would tell her — perhaps rightly — that she had gone mad.

Maybe she had. But now, when all her confidence was gone, it was too late to back out. The call had gone through and Gordy was frowning at her from the screen. He was in the underground habitat. From the look of him he was wearing the same clothes as ten days ago. He also looked like a man who had not washed in the same period.

“What do you want?” Gordy didn’t bother with social pleasantries. “Couldn’t someone else handle this, whatever it is?”

Do it at once; delay will make it harder. “ No, Gordy. No one else could handle this, because I work directly for you. I called to tell you that I’m resigning.”

His expression changed from anger to cynical amusement. “Oh, yeah? The old squeeze. I’ll buy it, just this once. Ten percent increase in salary, double your old bonus at the end of the year if you don’t screw up, and I’ll see what I can do about an interest in profit sharing. But that’s it, Maddy — I don’t want you back in six months, pushing for more.”

“You don’t understand. I’m not pushing for more money and benefits. I’m leaving the Argos Group.”

“You’re what?” His face showed genuine incomprehension.

Oh God. Don’t make me say it again. “ I’m leaving, Gordy. I quit. I’m resigning from the Argos Group.”

There. Now he had the message. His face twisted with surprise and rage.

“Leaving? You can’t leave.”

“I can. I’ll wrap up any unfinished work, and then I’m gone.”

“You ungrateful bitch! I made you. When you joined Argos you were a snotty-nosed child. You were nothing until I shaped you.”

“I resign. I’ll put it in writing if you want it that way.”

“You were nothing, and you’ll be nothing again. I’ll see to that. You faithless fucker, when I’m done you’ll never work again. Anywhere! Let me tell you what you are, you worthless whore.”

Maddy knew Gordy Rolfe; his rants were famous, and he was just getting started. He went on and she sat, frozen-faced, until she could take no more.

“I’ve listened to enough, Gordy. Now you listen to me.”

He stopped in midsentence and stared at her in astonishment.

“I’ve given you nine good years, Gordy Rolfe. I’ve been a hardworking and faithful employee who put you and the Argos Group above everything else in existence. Everything. Nothing mattered as much as impressing you. But that’s over now. I want life and friendship. I want love.”

“Aha.” His eyes glowed behind the big glasses. “I get it. You’ve found a man. That’s all right. But sex don’t last, Maddy. Take a long weekend. Fuck him until your eyeballs drop out on the pillow. Then get over him and go back to work.”

“It’s not about sex.”

“You mean you’re not fucking him yet. You’ve got it worse than I thought.”

“It’s about a lot more than sex. Gordy, I don’t wish you harm — that’s more than you can say about yourself. And I’ll prove it.” Fear of what Gordy might do made her suddenly cautious. She would not tell him all her suspicions. “I know the Argos Group has been cheating on some of the Sky City contracts. I’ll not give anyone else that information, but I don’t want to get caught in the middle. And you had better stop what you’re doing and straighten the record. Otherwise, you’re sure to be caught.”

He had been twitching and fidgeting while they spoke. Now he became perfectly still. “Can you prove that? Have you been digging into Sky City shipping records?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know anything?”

“I know what I was told.”

“So you don’t really know anything at all. It’s just hearsay. Who was it who gave you the information?”

Maddy was ready to say Seth Parsigian’s name. Why not? Seth also was an Argos Group employee, reporting, like her, to Gordy. But she saw the expression in Rolfe’s eyes. She had said far too much already.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“The man you’ve got the hots for. Did he tell you?”

“No! He has nothing to do with this.”

“I think I believe you. But who told you, Maddy? I have to know. Who was it?”

For close to ten years she had complied with every order from Gordy Rolfe. She had even tried to anticipate his unspoken wishes. The urge to obey was strong. Rolfe’s eyes seemed to grow, glaring at her from the screen.

Maddy closed her own eyes. “I’m not going to tell you. And I’m not going to talk about this anymore. I’ll send you my official resignation. I appreciate what I’ve learned from you and everything you’ve done for me over the years. But it’s goodbye.”

She pressed the disconnect key. She did not want to look at that malevolent countenance, those hot, disturbing eyes. Gordy hadn’t always been this way. For the past few months he had been approaching the edge, sliding away from the rational. If he were not so far away and so reclusive, he would be a perfect candidate for the Sky City killer.

The real question was, would Gordy accept her resignation? And if he did, would he try to harm her? Kill her?

Maddy comforted herself with the thought that she was a long way from Earth. Gordy Rolfe was king of The Flaunt and of his strange underworld habitat, but that was all. Surely, although the arm of Gordy Rolfe was long, it could not stretch as far as Sky City.

There was only one problem. If Gordy was interfering with shield development, that had to stop. At once. Maddy could not make that happen, but she knew a person who could. Someone who could also turn Maddy’s vague suspicions into established fact.

Slowly, reluctantly, feeling like a traitor to the man who had for nine years been at the center of her life, Maddy placed the call to Celine Tanaka.

The beep of the telcom unit went on and on. Nick Lopez did not want to answer. It was the dedicated line, and the only person who could possibly be at the other end was Gordy Rolfe.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Nick sighed. The representative from the Maldives was young and beautiful and oh so innocent-looking. But not perhaps so innocent. The discussion of trade agreements between the islands and the World Protection Federation was proceeding smoothly, and the transcript would show only official business. But underneath, at the submerged level that made the beginning of any affair so delightful, ran a current of physical awareness and mutual attraction.

“Martin, I don’t want to answer the call. It’s a private, dedicated line, and if I pick it up I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“That would be all right.” A sideways glance from blue eyes with long, dark lashes. A tiny smile. The husky voice saying, “We have more to discuss, but we could do it later. Couldn’t we?”

The opening gambit. Nick’s move. “I have meetings all the rest of the afternoon. It would have to be this evening. Are you free?”

“I am not free.” A knowing smile, a hint of even white teeth. “But perhaps I can make myself available.”

“Then may I suggest dinner? And afterward, a walk on the new Ipanema beach? That will give us ample opportunities … to talk.”

A grave nod. “I suspect that we will find much to discuss.”

“Undoubtedly. At seven, then? My limousine will pick you up.”

“I will be waiting.”

The farewell, a thin hand grasping Nick’s great brown paw for one split second longer than necessary. And Martin Oliveira was gone.

Nick raised his hand and sniffed the faint perfume that Martin’s touch had left behind. Exciting. At the same time proper, subtle, and wholly civilized. If only all the world were so. Nick picked up the telcom unit.