“Not at all,” Solveig said. “It’s a Palladian blend. Most people I know think it’s too strong.”
“I didn’t even know they could grow tea on that craggy rock of theirs. Come, have a seat. Did you put in your breakfast order already? Greta got some fresh shallows crabs from Oceana. The soft-shelled kind. Great in eggs.”
Solveig walked over to the beverage station and filled a mug of her own with tea. The soundless news stream was showing a crowd in front of the old High Council building in Sandvik, half a kilometer from the square where Ragnar Tower stood. The deadly bombing on Principal Square three months ago had been all the excuse the Alliance needed to crack down on the protests that had been growing more heated and violent. Now the mere sight of an impact weapon was enough to draw the swift response of a JSP patrol, and if it looked like an assembly was about to slide out of control, there was a full JSP platoon on the scene in minutes.
The breakfast she had requested from the kitchen staff was waiting for her in the service station. She took the plated arrangement of poached eggs and corn mash to the table and sat down, then spread butter on the mash and cut the eggs with her fork to pierce the yolks. They were just on the right side of runny this morning.
“So what do you want to ask me?”
“I have a suggestion for you. Unofficially, of course. I’m not supposed to have a hand in how you run the business.” Falk took a sip from his mug and watched over the rim as she took the first bite of her breakfast.
“A suggestion,” Solveig repeated. Her father wasn’t in the habit of making those. When he conveyed his opinion, he usually expected agreement or compliance.
“We—you—have to renegotiate terms with Hanzo soon. The terms we got from them three years ago are about to expire, and I think you’re in a good position to get more favorable ones. Now that the dust from the war has settled a bit.”
“The graphene contracts,” Solveig said, and Falk nodded.
“Hanzo would have given us better terms back then, but their main customer is Oceana. And you know the level of the grudge those people are holding against us. They made sure the Acheroni would charge us the highest net they could squeeze out of us. And we had no choice but to take it.”
We invaded Oceana, Solveig thought. We occupied it for four years. Of course they’re holding a grudge. We are, aren’t we? We’re still protesting our occupation after five years.
“And you think we’re in a better position now,” she said instead.
“Of course we are. I mean, we’re not back to normal yet. Probably won’t be for another three years. But we’re back up to fifty percent of prewar. They need more Alon; we need more graphene. It’s no longer a one-sided deal. Now we have more Alon to use for leverage. If they refuse to revisit the shit terms they gave us, they get shit terms from us in return. With a grin, of course, because they’re all about etiquette.”
He smiled without humor and took another sip from his mug.
“And that’s where you come in, Solveig.”
“You want me to negotiate with Hanzo?”
“I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m not allowed, remember? I am just giving you some parental advice.”
“Papa, I’ve been a vice president for three months. I’m hardly the most qualified person for that job. I’ve never negotiated foreign contracts.”
“You have a magister in interplanetary business,” Falk said. “But you also have something nobody else at the company has right now. The family name that’s on the side of the building.”
She felt her face flush.
“I want to get assignments on my own merit, Papa. Not because I am a Ragnar. I already get enough side-eye at work because I get to have an executive office at twenty-three.”
Falk shook his head lightly and flashed a smile again.
“For this assignment, the fact that you’re a Ragnar makes you the most qualified negotiator.”
“And how is that?”
“It’s their etiquette thing. You don’t know their culture yet.”
“I took four years of Acheroni in school. My instructor was from Acheron. I know a little about the place.”
“They have really peculiar ideas about respect. Especially as it relates to family and business. We could send Magnus or one of the other VPs, of course. But you’re the heir. You have the name. In their culture, you outrank everyone else in the company. Sending you would be a major show of respect in their eyes. The terms are almost secondary, really. You’d get better ones than Magnus because his negotiating skills won’t count as much as your lineage.”
“So you want me to be the company lead for the Hanzo talk.”
“I want you to go to Acheron, Solveig. Meet with them face-to-face. These people will really respect the gesture if a Ragnar makes the trip in person. It will put us on much better footing with them than a Mnemosyne conference. You can’t drink on a deal with a hologram.”
The low-level dread Solveig had been feeling at taking on the responsibility was suddenly tempered by the excitement she felt at the prospect of a trip to Acheron. She had never been there—the war had started when she was just fourteen and at boarding school—and the idea of being let off her leash to see a different planet again for the first time in a decade was almost irresistible. Still, she kept her carefully neutral expression and pretended that she was unsure about the whole thing.
“I’d still want to take one of the VPs along. Maybe Alvar or Gisbert.”
“Of course.” Falk nodded. “You’ll be going with a full delegation, plus security. But you’ll be in charge. Which means that you’ll get the credit for the result if Hanzo makes concessions. And they will.”
And I’ll get the blame if they don’t, Solveig thought.
“Well,” she said, and took another bite
