“Retired,” Van replied.
“I’m Miryam Adullah.” She continued to study Van.
“Miryam is one of the best planetary directors in IIS,” Desoll said. “And the most imposing.”
“You’re always filled with compliments,” Miryam responded. “I love it when you show up.” Her laugh was deep and rich and full.
“She tells me what I need to know, whether I want to hear it or not.” Desoll smiled.
“That’s what planetary directors are supposed to do.” Miryam gestured toward another trapezoidal doorway, beyond which was a circular conference table with five chairs.
After the three had seated themselves, Desoll spoke. “We won’t be here long, and I wanted you to meet Commodore Albert because I don’t know when he’ll be back here. He’ll probably be covering the more spinward planetary offices.”
“Making him take the long jumps?”
“Not all of them.”
Miryam turned to Van. “Trystin is very serious. I always tell him that it wouldn’t hurt him to laugh more.” She paused. “You’re the serious type, too. I can tell.”
Van grinned. “Sometimes. I have a sister like you.”
“Was she in the RSF, too?”
“Hardly. She’s a university professor. Her partner’s a doctor.”
“Partner? You look like you came from a regular orbit.”
Van shook his head. “That’s me. My fathers…one’s an advocate, and the other’s a singer and opera director.”
Miryam looked to Desoll. “I see why you wanted me to meet him. First time you’ve brought in anyone that has real blood in their veins.”
Desoll lifted his hands in a helpless shrug before grinning. “It wouldn’t matter who I brought in. You’d still find a way to abuse me.”
“I have to. No one else will.” But Miryam was smiling as broadly as Trystin.
Desoll’s smile faded. “Is there anything I need to know or you need me to do?”
“Not this time. You know I’m meeting with Serangao in an hour—less than an hour. They like the idea of outside resources behind the office, but they want those resources well behind and out of sight. They play on the idea of using local sources and talent.”
“That’s fine,” Trystin replied. “Play it the way you think best.”
Miryam looked to Van, then Desoll. “How long will you be here?”
“We’re leaving late this afternoon. We’ve got an urgent deliverable on Keshmara.”
“Too bad.” Miryam smiled at Van. “If I could take the commodore to G’zai’s, it wouldn’t hurt IIS at all.”
“Next time,” Desoll said.
Miryam looked to Van. “You heard it. That’s a promise.”
“She never forgets,” Desoll said with a laugh.
“And aren’t you glad?” Miryam rose from the table. “I’m sorry about the timing.”
“Things happen that way,” Desoll acknowledged, also standing.
“She’s rather impressive,” Van said, once they were out of the office and walking back along the colonnade.
“Formidable,” Desoll corrected. “She’s personally responsible for bringing in every major client we have here. Meroe is one of our most successful and profitable operations, and that’s despite the fact that the Kushite systems need our services less than most independent systems do.”
“What…” Van didn’t complete the sentence.
“IIS supplied the capital she couldn’t have gotten otherwise. She was from the Pharsi clan, and historically they’ve been looked down on as poor risks. I didn’t think so. She was a skinny little girl, but she always had that drive. She’s never forgotten.” Desoll stopped at the guideway gate, which opened shortly.
“Now where?” asked Van, as they boarded the small car.
“The Nabatan Trust, to take care of those financial matters.”
The guideway car ride was but a few minutes, and the car came to a halt at a covered concourse outside another of the white step pyramid structures.
Van followed Desoll along a covered but open portico that led to the main entrance of the building. Once inside, Desoll turned to his left, away from an open lobby with various public consoles, and down a narrower corridor to a console that stood before the closed gate blocking the ramp beyond. He entered a code and spoke. “Trystin Desoll for Daidae Mubarca. Accompanied by Commander Van Albert.”
After a moment, the gate opened, and Van followed Desoll past the single guard, who stood behind a second screen and nodded politely at the pair. The two men walked up the stone ramp, a surface that looked perfectly smooth, yet provided traction for their dress boots. At the top of the ramp, they turned right, passing through an unseen security screen.
The woman who stepped from the arched doorway at the end of the corridor had dark smooth skin, short shimmering silver hair, deep gray eyes, and a welcoming smile.
“Trystin! I hadn’t expected to see you so soon again.” She gestured toward the expansive office beyond the archway, one filled with carved wooden furniture, none of it upholstered, but curved in a way that reminded Van of the Eco-Tech style, yet was clearly different.
Once inside the office, Desoll inclined his head to the woman. “Van, this is Daidae Mubarca, Nabatan Trust’s managing partner for investments.” He nodded to Van. “Daidae, this is Van Albert. He’s our new senior director, and he’ll be taking command of our newest ship.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Commander.” The silver-haired woman spoke with great warmth.
“And you.” Van bowed slightly. “I’ve heard only good of you.”
“He’s as charming as you are, Trystin.”
“I fear not, Director,” Van replied. “I’ve much to learn from the commander.”
“He’s wise, too.” She nodded, then turned to Desoll. “You wanted…?”
“I’d like to transfer…” Desoll seemed to make a mental calculation, “four hundred twenty thousand Ks from the IIS operations account to a personal account for Commander Albert. He’ll also need it tied to his draw card.” Desoll handed over an ordinary-looking datacard. “The same normal limits as mine.”
“Your standard limit? Ten thousand per draw?” asked Mubarca.
“That’s right, and also a transfer link from his personal account in Cambrian Holdings.” Desoll nodded. “And a beneficiary arrangement. He’ll give you those details.” Desoll smiled, then stepped back. “I’ll be outside.”
Mubarca smiled, her eyes on
