Twenty Blue Devils

connection between Superstar's offers and Brian's death wasn't so far-fetched after all. Half the people around them looked ready to kill over it right now.

'Um...Superstar?” Maggie said off-handedly.

Nelson nodded significantly. “In this afternoon's mail.'

'For God's sake,” Rudy said, “don't those people ever give up? What do they want to give us now, Rockefeller Center?'

'No,” said Nelson, “as a matter of fact—'

'Now, wait.” Nick was on his feet and leaning over the table, his long arms propped on sandy-haired knuckles (in a strikingly simian manner, Gideon couldn't help observing).

'This is a family dinner, not a corporate business meeting. And we have company—'

'John's not company,” a tipsy Maggie said, raising her glass to her cousin.

'Well, Gideon is. There's no reason this can't keep till tomorrow morning.'

'I won't be here tomorrow morning,” Nelson said. “There's a chamber of commerce meeting in Papeete.'

'All right, Wednesday.'

'Sorry, I'll be in Hawaii Wednesday,” Rudy contributed. “Pacific Growers meeting.'

'All right, Th—'

'No can do,” said Maggie. “Training sessions morning and afternoon.'

'They've asked for an answer by the end of the week,” Nelson said.

Nick was starting to show his frustration. “Well, that's too damn bad,” he snapped, “they just might have to wait. For Christ's sake, we're having dinner! You think John and Gideon came all the way out here to listen to us hash over company business?'

Good question, Gideon thought; he wouldn't mind the answer to that himself. What had they come for?

'Hey, don't worry about us,” John said with another sidewise glance at Gideon. “Go ahead and talk about it. It'll probably take less time than arguing about whether you should or shouldn't talk about it.'

At that Nick capitulated, taking his seat and throwing up his hands with a sigh. “Go ahead and talk, what do I know?'

Now Nelson stood up. “As I see it, it's a relatively straightforward proposition.'

It was. Superstar Resorts International, of Omaha, Nebraska, had upped its offer for the property by a generous ten percent, said amount to be—

'What about the training center?” Maggie interrupted.

'The earlier stipulation still stands. Two acres to be set aside as a training and placement institute for young Tahitians interested in entering the hotel and tourist industry. Adequate funding to be provided.'

Maggie jerked her fist with boozy satisfaction. “All right!'

'And that's it, really,” Nelson said. “Other than the money, the earlier offer holds in its entirety. What's your reaction, Nick?'

Nick inclined his head thoughtfully. “It's a lot of money...” Maggie, Rudy, and Nelson started speaking at once, with Nelson carrying the day through sheer tenacity. “Not only is it a lot of money, Nick, but it's the right time to get out of the coffee business. Are you aware—'

'Out of the coffee business and into what?” Nick asked.

'What about Bora Bora?” Maggie said. “What about that destination resort you're always talking about building on the Bora Bora property? With this kind of money, couldn't you just up and do it?'

Nick gave it some thought. “Maybe I could at that,” he said quietly, and the look in his eyes made it clear that the idea had its attractions. Nick Druett was an entrepreneur at heart, Gideon realized, not a coffee baron, or a land baron, or any other kind of baron. For men like Nick, the possibility of something new, of something big, of making something from nothing, was what got them out of bed every morning.

'Not me,” said Celine flatly. “I'm not going to Bora Bora. No art supplies on Bora Bora. No nothing on Bora Bora. Tahiti is plenty bad enough.'

'But you wouldn't have to live on Bora Bora, Momma,” Maggie said. “You could live anywhere. You could—'

'May I just finish my point?' Nelson cut in. He was still standing at his chair and he spoke directly to Nick. “I think it's time for us to take a good look at market trends. Has anyone besides me given any thought to the fact that coffee consumption, worldwide, has been going down, not up? That despite all the talk about a coffee boom, people consume less than half of what they did thirty years ago? That the world market has been stagnant for decades? That with Japanese demand driving up prices and higher wages driving up costs, the profit window for growers shrinks every year? I grant you, Paradise is doing fine for the time being, but all the same—'

'All the same,” a mocking drone interrupted, “the reports of coffee's demise are greatly exaggerated.'

The comment had come from Rudy, on Gideon's right. One of the three Caucasians at the table—the others were Nick and Gideon—he was the only one there who was from the “other” side of the family, being the son of Nick's dead brother, and the only one who had spent most of his life in the continental United States as opposed to Tahiti or Hawaii. As a result he had contributed little beyond droll, oblique footnotes to the family reminiscences.

He was far from oblique now, however. The only stagnant part of the market was the robusta sector, the others were crisply informed; the big industrial roasters, the