Confluence Point (6 page)

"Good morning Ham." Despite her attempt to be cheery it was unconvincing.

"And how are we this morning? Bright and bushy tailed I trust." His voice had just the right amount of encouragement while at the same time asking, what's up?

She delayed answering, thinking again about how much she appreciated Ham's care. For a moment the thought almost made her forget the worries and she curled up in the knowledge of his reassuring presence
-
and then it came back to her.

"I had a terrible dream." She waited for him to ask and show the interest she knew would be there
-
he rarely failed her.

"Talk to me babe, you know how I love to hear the weird and wonderful, what happened?"

She smiled and chuckled, feeling good to laugh even a little and then lay there a moment longer, just gathering her thoughts.

"I was walking up the pipe, going somewhere, I don't know where, and I looked up and Jared was outside. It was like before we closed the ends, and he was in space, with a big glass helmet, and he's on some kind of jet cycle doing loops. I know he knows I can see him but I'm in a hurry for some reason and it's like I don't want to acknowledge him in case I have to stop, so I pretend I haven't noticed." She hesitated, suddenly and embarrassingly getting teary.

"Anyway . . . he flies nearer and nearer to the window, looping away, trying to get my attention, and yet I know he knows, that I already know he's there," Regan put her hands over her face and rubbed furiously in frustration. "I know this sounds like gobbledygook."

"Go on, I'm with you."

"Well, the thing is I can see the disappointment on his face and I can tell he knows I've ignored him. Suddenly he goes to swerve away, but he's got too close and the handle bar catches the window somehow, and he gets thrown off, spinning away into space, lost." She lay there silent, reliving the dream, waiting for Ham to comment.

"And what do you think it means, if anything?" He asked.

"I still neglect him don't I? Does he feel I neglect him Ham, you know him better than anyone? Tell me he feels loved
-
I couldn't bear it if he felt I would ignore him like that."

There was silence for a minute or so and Regan waited, knowing Ham would be thinking. The temptation for him to make a joke would be strong but she knew he wouldn't, this wasn't the time, and she really wanted his wisdom. He didn't fail her.

"Regan, there would be few mothers, or fathers for that matter who didn't worry that they neglected their children in some matter or area. It's a tough job and you do it well. I can tell you he radiates all the confidence of a child who feels secure and loved. He lights up when he sees you and I don't need to tell you that it is usually him who takes off to do something when he's had enough, not you. You can't tie that boy down. He does that so confidently because he is so secure in your relationship, he knows you're there for him."

"Thanks Ham, I guess I just have my doubts, I get so focused on things . . ."

"Regan, I don't think that was what the dream was about."

"Really . . . what do you think it was about?"

"What do you have to do today?"

She thought for a second, "We're going to have the meeting with Mitch."

Ham waited.

"You think it's about Mitch?" She asked.

"Well, think about it. You sometimes read too much into the characters in your dreams, as if it's some portent of the future. But isn't it more likely that your dreams are prompted by your concerns, those things that are bothering you most? Your subconscious works to construct a scenario that brings the concerns to life? You've been beating yourself up about Mitch, why?"

"Because I neglected him, I left him down there running EZAS, actually grateful that I didn't need to do anything. I took him for granted."

"You're worried that you ignored his cries for attention."

"Like Jared in the dream . . ." her voice drifted as she reflected on the thought.

"Regan, there may be some truth in the fact that everyone, including you, could have called him more but we're not talking about a child here, he's an adult. When did he ever ask me to fly him up for a beer and a chat? He could have asked anytime. Don't take more responsibility than you should."

Regan lay there silent, thinking about Mitch, about friendship and about responsibility.

"Ham, you know I apprecia . . ."

"Yes Regan," he interrupted her, "and you don't need to worry about me
-
ever."

She could sense his smile, and she headed for the shower.

* * *

As Regan was in no hurry Ham dropped the Interceptor earthward in a steady contemplative dive. For the moment she found it a relief to be sitting alone. Marin had remained on the STEIN with Leah as someone needed to be there when she woke from her web operation. For the meeting she had only one other thought for backup - Marcus Jackson. He would handle the legal side as usual but in the main she wanted him there for emotional support as they were all old friends. For that she was grateful.

Mitch's offer for EZAS had come as a huge shock, as did his request to meet personally for the handover. He had sounded angry, offended, and she had no idea why.

On departure from the Station her second passenger retired immediately to a bunkroom to sleep; Ham had insisted on Brian as a bodyguard and with Marin's vote also going against her she didn't protest. Nevertheless she felt embarrassed having him here and it seemed over the top, this was Mitch after all.

Sitting now in the control chair she explored the net and chatted with Ham, her emotions mixed, mostly grief.

[So Ham, do you have any idea where he's getting the money?]

[Regan, the reality is he'd have no trouble raising it, it's a good investment and he'll easily cover the financing costs. It's possible if he massages the figures a bit he could even put thirty percent of the shares straight back on the market and recover most of his investment while still retaining control. Having said that, I can't find any record of a lender advancing the money, even with my extensive nefarious ability.]

[I just don't get it. Things were going so well, I had no idea he was feeling this way
-
why didn't he talk to me?]

[You're asking me . . . a machine?]

[Haaaa! . . . I'm not falling for that one my friend.]

[What can I tell you about human motivation that you don't already know? I've noticed that humans are a complex species. It seems if their emotional needs aren't being met, no amount of money or success will make up for it.]

[You think that's it?]

[You're about to find out. Regan, we'll be in Wellington soon and Marcus will be ready at Riverside on the roof. Do you want to stop there at all or just get straight off to the States?]

[Let's just pick him up and get on our way
-
I want to get this over with.]

They swooped down through the atmosphere hardly raising interest from tracking services, so regular now were the flights. As they sailed in over the river Ham displayed the morning view, beautiful with the sun glistening off the water and briefly Regan felt pangs of regret that she spent so little time there.
That's the problem isn't it? We're too big, everyone felt close in the beginning, but now . . .
she let the thought trail away.

She watched as Marcus stepped away from the stairway door as the Interceptor approached the rooftop, Ham gently settling the craft near the surface.

Marcus Jackson, old friend, what would I do without your legal counsel and savvy?

As Regan turned in her chair she was startled to see Brian already at the door
, where did he come from?
The doors slid open and Brian exited, quickly scanning the area then gesturing to Marcus who was already waiting. Marcus entered first and Brian followed, giving Regan a nod and then walking without a word back to his bunkroom.

Marcus stood just looking at her sadly, briefcase in hand but otherwise casual. He looked toward the bunkroom and raised his eyebrows, questioning.

"Ham and Marin insisted," she explained and then raised her arms to him.

Neither said anything and to her embarrassment, the good eye moistened, a single teardrop running down her cheek. She wiped it away with her cuff and they embraced like the old friends they were. 

"I'm so sorry Regan, you must be gutted
-
we all are." He looked genuinely bereft.

"I guess we've all grown up Marcus, but it doesn't make it any easier when a family member eventually flies the coop. I haven't felt like this since Kevin left home, I was only fourteen then and I can still remember how desolate I felt. The stupid thing here is that Mitch has been working in the States for years now and we've hardly seen each other, but it still felt like he was part of the group . . . I think I've taken him for granted."

They took their seats to continue talking as Ham already had them on the move, the Western Hills disappearing beneath them on screen as they headed west. Soon they would bank off to the north and then set course toward California free of the normal flight paths.

Marcus reached across to rest one hand on her arm reassuringly. "Regan, you'll still be friends."

"I hope you’re right Marcus, but my gut says that's not going to happen. Buying us out of EZAS, ok I can see that's not terminal, but selling his STEIN share . . . that really cuts the umbilical. It's a statement don't you think?"

"Maybe not," he tried to sound hopeful, "financing a deal like this can't be easy, the three billion for the STEIN share must have helped."

She just shrugged. "How about coffee, we've got a couple of hours?"

* * *

EZAS headquarters, San francisco

The office was cold, unbelievably cold
-
surely he didn't wind down the temperature just to make me feel uncomfortable?
Regan glanced sideways at Marcus who clearly wasn't prepared for this; he'd dressed for California warm. Her suit protected her but this treatment wasn't on so she took action,
bugger him.
As Mitch rudely continued his international call she wirelessly accessed the air-conditioning and turned it up to a balmy seventy degrees Fahrenheit.

Watching Mitch was sadly interesting.
He looks tense - and hardly a nod of welcome, what's that about? Plus he's deliberately keeping us waiting.
Finally, she had enough of waiting and disconnected his call with another simple thought command. Mitch was forced to pause and tap his earpiece, annoyed.
No delaying now, my friend.
Putting down the phone he stood and walked slowly around the beautiful glass desk, a work of art that he seemed to caress as he passed. In an act of pointed theatre, he then looked at Brian first, then Marcus, then Regan, deliberately showing distaste. He didn't smile, pointing at each of her two companions in turn while eyeballing her
-
and then he erupted . . .

"Really Regan
-
you couldn't even come alone, what is this, you've brought a fucking bodyguard and your legal guardian?" He clenched his teeth so tensely his face reddened with the effort. "Shit - this is typical, you treat me like crap, and after all this time you don't even trust me?" Somehow he made it a question.

Regan stood and walked to him, reaching for his arm, she was shocked. "Mitch, what's wrong? It's me Regan; we're friends, best of friends, talk to me, please."

He pushed her hand away roughly, "Friends . . . I
thought
we were friends, but you don't give a shit about the business down here, or me, you haven't for a long time. Friends keep in touch, when do you even call me? You know what a call is Regan," he gestured at the screen, "An on screen chat, face to face, you can manage that can't you?" There were tears in his eyes, angry tears and his fists slowly clenched.

Brian stood quickly and moved to come between them and though she tried to put a hand up to stop him Mitch was already turning away anyway.

"Oh that's typical . . ." He glared at Brian, "Do you really think I'd hit her?" Mitch shook his head in disgust. "That just shows you Regan, how bad things have got, I've even got to get through your flunky to talk to you.
We were friends for fucks sake!
" And he screamed it out, suddenly apoplectic with rage. "Just tell your legal eagle to leave the papers and fuck off." He walked back around the desk, avoiding Regan's gaze.

She appealed to him. "Mitch, don't do this, we've never forgotten you, we always talk about you . . ." She paused, realizing how bad that could sound, particularly in his frame of mind. "Fondly I mean, you've always been a part of the team."

"Hah! A part of the team,
I
kept the whole damn company going! If it hadn't been for EZAS, where would your cash flow have come from eh? You've taken us for granted down here for too long. Well, now you and Kutch and Marin, Kev and Mary, you can all get on with playing your happy families, we were never included anyway; and we don't need you, it’s better you don't suck us dry."

He was beyond reason now, with spittle on the corners of his mouth, eyes glaring. She exchanged glances with Marcus and he opened his briefcase, reaching in to extract a file.

"It's all there Mitch, signed and witnessed. Regan sold to you for fifteen percent above market, not the twenty you offered, it's a gift. If your people have any problems with the legals they can call me."

Mitch wiped his eyes at that, shaking his head in anger. "Fuck me . . . I don't believe it, you even try to take the moral high ground now, right to the end, but you couldn't even manage to call a so called friend; as if I care about the money." He faced her, his arms hanging dejectedly. "You've changed Regan, we all have, now just fuck off with your new flunky, this is
my
office."

They were standing already and Marcus held out the folder with the papers. Mitch just nodded at the table so he dropped it there and by unspoken agreement they turned and made for the door.