The word “innocent” finally got to Alex. His head was aching worse than he ever remembered it, and he was being crucified for nothing. He remembered Kate’s advice. Screw your family. Give them bell. But they were screwing him! He burst out, “His innocent daughter! Did Lucy say I was her first fuck ever? Because if she did, that’s a total lie. I bet she’s had more men up her than the Ganymede central elevator.”
Great-aunt Cora gasped, Uncle Karolus guffawed, and Prosper Ligon said acidly, “We neither inquired of Cyrus Mobarak regarding his daughter’s previous sexual experience, nor do we intend to. The simple fact of the matter, Alex Ligon, is that you have failed the family. If we hope to achieve a union with Mobarak’s empire, we must seek it through other methods. And fortunately, such an avenue appears to be available. Lucy-Maria Mobarak is, it seems, very taken with your cousin, Hector.”
“Hector!” Alex said. “But he’s a total idiot!”
“Now then,” Karolus said. “That happens to be my son you’re talking about. Not that I disagree with you. But Cyrus Mobarak is a doting father, and if things work out he’ll go along.”
“IP” Prosper glared. “This if is news to me. I thought Mobarak’s consent had already been given.”
“It’s not him. It’s her.”
“Lucy-Maria is balking?”
“Not exactly. But somebody put a half-witted idea in her head. She says she wants Hector to ‘prove himself.’ ”
“Prove he is able to sire children?”
“Good God, no. If all she wanted was proof of his fertility, I could offer plenty. I’m paying for his little mistakes all over Ganymede. No, she wants him to perform some great and noble deed.”
“What sort of deed?”
“The mind boggles.” Uncle Karolus scowled. “It’s not like he can ride off on a horse somewhere and fight a dragon. Hector says he wants to think about it and come up with something valuable for the family, all by himself. Except that thinking is what he’s worst at. Alex there is the one who thinks.”
“To remarkably little avail.” Prosper Ligon turned again to Alex. “You owe the family some exceptional service as compensation for what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything that Hector hasn’t done a hundred times.”
“Comparison with your cousin will not help your case. He at least is doing his best for the family. I will tell you exactly what we expect of you. We discussed this before you arrived.” Prosper looked around the table for the confirming nods of agreement, and went on, “You were present at our last full meeting, when the decision was made to accept the contract for Phase Two of the Starseed contract. Our profit for this work — and, indeed, possibly the very survival of Ligon Industries — depends upon the rights to operate down to and within the atmosphere of Saturn. Those rights reside with the lease on the minor moon Pandora. Do you recall any of this, or were you daydreaming of lustful pleasures throughout the meeting?”
“You are confusing me with my sex-mad cousins, Rezel and Tanya. I remember perfectly well what was said at the meeting. It was Rezel and Tanya who were supposed to contact the present leaseholder and fuck him until he didn’t know which way was up or what day of the week it was. I was only a third-string back-up. What happened? Did the nympho twins strike out?”
Bad language and sexual references had no effect on Prosper Ligon. The old donkey’s head gave a more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger shake, and his uncle said, “Insults to fellow family members cannot compensate for your own failings, Alex. Do you deny that you have family duties and family responsibilities?”
“I have always done my absolute best for this family. The very fact that I am here, where I have no wish to be, proves that.”
“Very good. You now have an opportunity to prove it once again. Rezel and Tanya, for whatever reason” — Prosper Ligon coughed drily — “were unsuccessful in arranging to meet with the current leaseholder of Pandora. From certain rumors that we have heard, concerning the interests and nature of the leaseholder, we believe that you have a better chance of success. We wish you to take on this assignment.”
It was no surprise to Alex — the mysterious ticket to the Saturn system had been a pretty obvious clue. “You mean because he’s interested in computers and computer models? If he’s really reclusive, that won’t be enough. There are tens of millions of modelers in the System, and he won’t agree to see any of them. He’ll surely refuse to see me.” Alex thought of the predictive model in its present disastrous condition, and went on, “Even if he would see me, I can’t possibly go anywhere at the moment. My work is at a critical stage.”
Lena Ligon shook her head, and said in her sweetest and most reasonable voice, “Alex, dear Alex. Give us some credit for knowing what we are doing.”
Prosper Ligon raised his head and added, “Your mother is for wiser than you. She realizes, as apparently you do not, that Ligon Industries has connections and influences that extend to the highest levels of Jovian system government. Will you accept the truth of that statement?”
Alex has stressed that very point to Kate Lonaker, little more than an hour before. He nodded.
“We feel sure that a leave of absence for you to pursue the question of the Pandora lease will be approved. What we ask of you is that you visit the current leaseholder, and argue our case.”
“Suppose that he won’t meet with me?”
“We have evidence to suggest that he will. Once again, we possess corporate resources which you seem to undervalue and underestimate.”
Alex was ready to reply — he was going to say that he would take the assignment, in the hope that would let him escape (torn the meeting — when the door leading into the conference room crashed open.
Everyone turned. Great-aunt Agatha stood on the threshold. Her clothes were normal enough in style, but her blouse lacked the usual carefully-chosen brooches and hung open to reveal her carefully sculptured bosom. “Started without me, eh?” she said. “The decline of manners is a symptom of this decadent age.” She walked forward briskly enough, but with an odd and crab-like sideways motion.
As she took her place at the table, Uncle Karolus said abruptly, “Thought you were sick.”
“Nonsense. Now, what’s the first order of business?”
She was addressing Prosper Ligon, but it was Lena Ligon who answered, “Agatha. There’s something wrong. You’re yellow.”
As soon as his mother said that, Alex could see it, too. Great-aunt Agatha’s skin had a slightly sallow tinge, but it was her eyes that really showed it. Usually the whites were absolutely clear, with a hint of blue that spoke of perfect health. Those whites were now a muddy yellow, almost buff in color.
“Nonsense,” Agatha said again. “Lena, you are imagining things.”
“You told me you were sick.” Prosper Ligon walked around the table toward her. “You were supposed to go to Sylva Commensals so they could take a look at you. Did you go?”
“I did not. Complete waste of time. I feel fine.” Agatha placed her hands on her right side just below the rib cage. She was pressing there, and Alex noticed a slight tremble in her fingertips.
He glanced at the others. They seemed to have no idea what was wrong. “Aunt Agatha, are you feeling any pain?”
“Of course not.”
And of course, her answer should have been no surprise. One advantage of being a Commensal was that one of the interior organisms took care of pain symptoms, while others repaired any damage.
“It’s the parent schistosome,” Alex said. And, when the others stared, “The big wormy thing that sits above the liver in a Commensal. There’s something wrong with it. Maybe it’s even dead. Look at her symptoms. She has jaundice, because the liver isn’t breaking down bile correctly; and I think there’s swelling in the liver, where she’s pressing herself.”