Huenemann didn’t know. Couldn’t know, in fact. Either was consistent with the facts he had. He feared it might be the former, but his public position would have to be that it was the latter. The former said he was wrong. The latter said he was more right than he knew.
Chen Zufu and Chen Zumu asked Chen JieMin to tea with them on Friday afternoon. Once tea was served – again by ChaoPing, of course – Chen Zufu jumped right in.
“The probe is apparently lost, JieMin.”
“Yes, Chen Zufu.”
“As you predicted, JieMin?” MinChao asked.
“I believe so, Chen Zufu. It could have been some other failure. It is a complicated piece of equipment, and they used standard designs for the parts they could to keep the cost down. So there is more than one failure mode.”
“Of course, JieMin. But you think it was because the hyperspace field generator was turned off after the first transition.”
“Yes, Chen Zufu.”
“If the Chen family were to buy the project, JieMin,” Jessica asked, “would you be able to lead the project and conclude it successfully?”
“The project should probably have a business person leading it, Chen Zumu. I could be the technical lead, I suppose.”
“A business person like ChaoLi, JieMin?”
JieMin’s head spun. He and ChaoLi often talked about his project, but she seldom talked about her work. It just occurred to him he knew little about what she did for the family. It also occurred to him her work might be secretive by design.
“I do not know enough about ChaoLi’s experience and work for the family to answer that question, Chen Zumu. You would need to be the judge of that.”
Jessica nodded. She wasn’t surprised. ChaoLi had been in her confidence since she was thirteen, when she began work in JuPing’s inner circle as her tea girl.
It was not unusual on Arcadia for children to begin work at twelve or thirteen, particularly in family businesses, such as working in one of the stalls of the Uptown Market, or tending herb and spice plants in the garden or on the farms. The burgeoning population was so young on Arcadia – half under age sixteen! – that teenagers were an obvious answer to the constant shortage of manpower.
Children on Arcadia grew up quick and married young, which of course fed the population growth.
“If, in my judgment, ChaoLi was suitable to be the business manager for this enterprise, would you have trouble reporting to her, JieMin?”
A pointed question, which deserved a thoughtful answer. Many organizations forbade hierarchical relationships between family members, but that had never been possible within the Chen-Jasic clan. How so, when all were Chen?
JieMin thought of the times ChaoLi had put her foot down, such as enforcing time off the project on weekends. He recognized now the leadership skills she had used there to gain his acquiescence – against his urges – and was proud of his wife’s skills.
“No, Chen Zumu. There would be no problem.”
Jessica nodded again, with a slight smile. It seemed as if she had followed along with his thought processes herself.
“Very good.”
Jessica turned to look at MinChao.
“Did you prepare that list of things needed to complete the project, JieMin?”
“Yes, Chen Zufu.”
“Send it to us, if you would, JieMin.”
“Of course, Chen Zufu.”
JieMin used the heads-up display on his communicator to access his computer account, and sent the list to both MinChao and Jessica.
MinChao nodded.
“Thank you, JieMin. That is all for now.”
“Yes, Chen Zufu.”
After JieMin left, MinChao and Jessica looked over JieMin’s list of items and personnel required to continue the project. One item stood out to Jessica.
“Well, that’s interesting,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“One of the personnel JieMin says would be essential to complete the project is Karl Huenemann.”
“Oh, yes, I see that,” MinChao said. “That is interesting. What’s he thinking, I wonder.”
“Probably that Dr. Huenemann is a good technical resource, as long as he isn’t in a position where nobody can veto him.”
“Do you think we could get him?”
“I don’t know,” Jessica said. “That is also an interesting question.”
Rob Milbank was also thinking about the failed probe on Friday. He railed at himself for not overriding Huenemann – at least trying to – then pitched that line of thought aside as silly. He’d considered it, and it was just too risky. It would split his majority.
Now, however....
There was one thing he needed to check out, but he couldn’t go there. His movements were too well documented, too public. He wrote a short note and called his aide.
“Take the bus up to Fifteenth Street and deliver this. Wait for a reply. Then bring the reply straight here.”
“Yes, sir.”
The aid looked down at the envelope.
The only address was ‘Chen Zufu.’
For that matter, he could probably mail it anywhere on Arcadia, and that would be all the address it needed.
“There is a man here with a note for you, Chen Zufu. He said he was told to wait for an answer.”
JuMing walked the note over to Chen Zufu.
“Thank you, JuMing. Wait outside, please.”
“Yes, Chen Zufu.”
MinChao opened the envelope by steaming it over his teapot. The note was short, and in Rob Milbank’s handwriting.
Do things stand with you
as at our last meeting?
MinChao wrote a short response directly on the note, then took a small stamp, coated it in red ink, and stamped his seal.
Yes, in all particulars.
陈
MinChao put the note back in the envelope, then moistened the flap with tea and sealed it. He rang a small bell on his table. JuMing entered, and MinChao handed him
