“Then let me call and tell them that you won’t be there at four. I’ll be happy to do that for you.”

He was sure she would. Her anger had not lessened since his apology, but it seemed to have transferred from Alex to the rest of his family.

“Kate, if you talk to Prosper Ligon or my mother, you won’t just say I can’t make the appointment. You’ll flame them. And then you’ll lose your job.”

“Nonsense. I won’t lose my job.”

Alex noted that she did not deny that she was likely to cuss them out. “I’m telling you,” he said. “Your job will be in danger. It won’t happen through any direct route, or in a way we can do anything about. Mysterious pressures will drift down from somewhere higher up. Ligon Industries have been around for a long time. Even the family names go back centuries.”

“Huh.”

Which Alex read as a sign of agreement. Kate was highly savvy when it came to the realities of interaction between government and industry. She knew better than he how much an old-line and well-connected company could command in the way of political influence.

He sat up. “It’s past three. I have to go.”

Kate scowled as he groped for his shoes, but she didn’t try to keep him. “Just be firm with them,” she said, as he prepared to leave. “Tell them no. They can’t make you.”

Which just proved how little she understood the Ligon family. But Kate was watching him closely, and he was careful not to put on any of the traditional clothes normally considered necessary for a family meeting.

She nodded approval. “That’s right. I say, if they don’t treat you right then screw your family. Give them hell, sweetheart. I know you feel terrible, but remember this: even with your brains coming out of your ears you’re still three times as smart as Cousin Hector.”

Being smarter than Hector was small consolation for anything. Far more important was the sweetheart and Kate’s quick kiss on the way out.

The long ride up from Kate’s apartment to Ligon Corporate went in a blur. Alex surfaced only once from his stupor, when a flickering sign drifted past him on one of the rapid transit corridors.

Exciting news!

Exclusive to Paradigm.

Secret message to Ganymede Central!

Aliens on the way!

An informed source reveals that a message from the stars has been forwarded from the Jovian L-4 station, announcing that aliens are coming to the solar system. Will they bring peace? Will they bring war? Visit Paradigm Outlet NOW for full details!

Alex felt no temptation to obey the command to seek a connection to the Paradigm Outlet. The announcement seemed more like a pointer to the inside of his own head. One of the “futures” considered and discarded by the prediction program had been the discovery of messages from aliens. It must have been thrown out in favor of a more probable future, but it had occurred very early during the run. Could it have been this early, on the same day as the run was made?

Should he change his mind and tune in? How old was the “secret message” that Paradigm was shouting about? He knew it was one of the most sensational of the Outlets, where “exciting news” could easily be the rehash of something decades old.

Whatever he did would have to wait, because he was approaching the bronzed double doors of Ligon Corporate. He stared in through the eye-level camera, was recognized from his retinal pattern, and waited for the heavy doors silently to swing open. The Level Three Fax was waiting there, but also to his surprise was Uncle Karolus Ligon.

Normally Alex’s uncle had no time for him. Today he examined Alex’s paler-than-paper face, gave a broad wink, and said “Been getting the old leg over, then? She must have been quite a tiger from the looks of you,” and led a mystified Alex through to the conference room.

Only five positions were marked out at the marble-topped oval table, including a seat for Alex. That was a bad sign. It meant that only the most senior family members would be present. In addition to Alex — who was decidedly not senior — he saw Lena, Uncle Prosper, Uncle Karolus, and Great-aunt Cora. There was one significant omission.

“Where’s Great-aunt Agatha?”

He addressed the question to his mother, but it was Prosper Ligon who answered. “Agatha is indisposed.”

“You mean she’s sick. She can’t be.”

Great-aunt Agatha, as she would readily point out, was one of the Commensal program’s biggest success stories. Five years ago, she had been a weak and wasted centenarian. Now, at age one hundred and ten, she enjoyed an active social and sexual life.

Prosper nodded his ancient donkey head. “I am sorry to say that is so. Agatha is sick. We have yet to learn how sick.”

His tone was mournful, but Alex saw a gleam of yellowed teeth. Great-aunt Agatha had been widely advertised by Sylva Commensals in their promotional material. A picture of her before and after the conversion to a Commensal, with the note: Which would you rather be: young-looking and healthy, or old and sick?

It was obvious how Prosper Ligon’s thoughts and hopes were running. If Great-aunt Agatha were really sick — or, better yet, died — that would knock the stuffing out of Sylva Commensals’ sales. And Sylva was one of the companies whose growth had pushed Ligon down toward the bottom of the top ten corporations in the System.

Prosper went on, “The condition of Agatha is not, however, relevant to the reason for this meeting. Alex, I am sorry to tell you that we have received a most disturbing report from Cyrus Mobarak. Before we begin, would you like to make a statement?”

A statement about what? Alex glanced at each of the faces, and received no enlightenment. Uncle Karolus gave him another wink.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to make a statement about.”

“Very well. If you choose to feign ignorance, so be it. The other day, you went with your mother to meet Cyrus Mobarak and his daughter, Lucy-Maria. While Lena and Mobarak were briefly absent, it seems that you persuaded Lucy-Maria to go with you on an expedition to the lower Ganymede levels. Does the name ‘Holy Rollers’ mean anything to you?”

“Yes. She took me there.”

“Lucy-Maria states otherwise. At the Holy Rollers Club, she maintains that you, without her knowledge, placed some form of behavior-modifying drug into an otherwise harmless drink. She remembers nothing of subsequent events, until she was discovered by security guards in a private room. She was naked, she had been sexually assaulted, and tests revealed the presence of multiple addictive drugs within her body. She was carried home, where she told her father that although she cannot state with absolute conviction that you were the guilty party, she spoke only a few words to anyone else present at the club. Would you now like to make a statement? Would you, for instance, like us to request that a DNA test be performed to establish that you were not the person who forced himself onto her?”

Alex shook his head. “Forcing yourself onto — or into — Lucy-Maria Mobarak would be an impossibility, because she was always at least two steps ahead of you. He would get nowhere telling his family that. As for the DNA test, chances were better than even that he would fail. He wasn’t sure how many people he’d had sex with that night, but he was fairly sure that it was more than one.

Prosper Ligon, staring down at the tabletop as though addressing it rather than Alex, went on, “If you have nothing more to offer on your own behalf, we are forced to assume your guilt.” Great-aunt Cora gave Alex a stony and accusing glare. Lena Ligon said, “My dear, I’m so disappointed in you,” and Uncle Karolus said, “How was she, then?”

“Needless to say,” Prosper Ligon continued, “Cyrus Mobarak now considers Alex Ligon as a dissolute rake, totally unsuitable as a marriage partner for his innocent daughter.”