Empire Builders (24 page)
THIRTY-TWO
ONCE ON EARTH, Dan had tapped into one of the funds he had established in Liechtenstein , at the same bank into which he had deposited the money that he, Big George and Pops Tucker had made on the Moon. The lunar account was a pittance compared to that of Mason Dickson, Dan’s alias.
Roger Wilcox had disappeared; Mason Dickson had sprung to life out of the computer files of the International Bank of Liechtenstein , a charming miniature nation nestled in the Alps between Switzerland and Austria , where sleekly smiling bankers spoke in whispers and accepted deposits with few questions and low taxes. Like stoutly independent Switzerland ,Liechtenstein had not formally joined the Global Economic Council. The only other nation on Earth that had similarly remained aloof was Afghanistan . Big George had accompanied Dan and Tamara to Earth. Pops Tucker remained on the Moon, too physically debilitated to face full terrestrial gravity without a long and rigorous course of rehabilitation, which he adamantly refused even to consider.
“Besides,” the wizened old man had argued, patting his tabletop computer, “I can keep an eye on your Williams woman for you.” Dan had reluctantly agreed. Big George told him, “He’s living the way he wants to. Fooking old kook’s been an outlaw for so long he wouldn’t know how to behave in normal society.”
Dan nodded, but remembered Tucker’s bitter anger at being unable to see his grandchildren. Which one is the real Pops Tucker. Dan asked himself. The nasty old man who won’t stir himself to get back into shape, or the sad old guy who’s never seen his grandchildren? But he put those thoughts behind him as
he drove a rented car through a slashing rainstorm that was flooding the streets of Geneva . Every time I see Jane it seems to be raining, he said to himself. The car radio was babbling about the unusual warm spell, the unseasonably heavy storm and the rising level of the lake. The water was hubcaps deep in several places; the police had cordoned off several streets altogether.
he drove a rented car through a slashing rainstorm that was flooding the streets of Geneva . Every time I see Jane it seems to be raining, he said to himself. The car radio was babbling about the unusual warm spell, the unseasonably heavy storm and the rising level of the lake. The water was hubcaps deep in several places; the police had cordoned off several streets altogether.
Wait till the glaciers start melting down, Dan thought grimly. They’ll have to borrow gondolas from Venice . If there’s anything left of Venice .
The Bank of Geneva was hushed and imposing. Marble floors, vaulted ribbed ceiling, the smell of heavy money oozing out of the walls. The guard at the security desk was expecting Mason Dickson;
Dan was escorted to a private conference room on an upper floor. Dan opened the door as the guard stood a respectful distance away. Jane was already there, her back to the door, staring out at the merciless rain. Nobo sat beside her, looking glum.
They both turned at the click of the door’s closing. Jane’s smile warmed the room. Nobo jumped to his feet, a slightly sheepish expression on his lean face.
He came to Dan with his hand extended. “It’s good to see you again.”
Dan grabbed his hand. “You too, Nobo. I’m sorry about the blowup the last time we talked.” “It was my fault.”
“Mine, just as much. I could’ve been more flexible.” “So could I.”
Jane had swiveled her chair around to face the round table that dominated the small room. “Don’t start another argument apologizing about the old one,” she said.
Nobo laughed and Dan clapped him on the back and the argument was forgotten. Almost. Dan could not help thinking that the whole issue was moot now: he couldn’t adjust Astro’s helium-three output even if he wanted to. He no longer had control over the company.
As soon as the two men had seated themselves, one on either side of Jane, Nobuhiko said, “Dan, I want you to come back to my family home with me. You’ll be safe in Kyoto .”
Dan shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m still a wanted man, a fugitive from the GEC’s brand of justice. You don’t want to put yourself in jeopardy over me.”
“You are my friend and you are in danger,” Nobo said. “I can protect you until Jane straightens out your legal difficulties.”
“You don’t understand, Nobo. My legal difficulties don’t amount to a thimbleful of buckeyballs compared to this greenhouse crisis.”
“That’s in the hands of the GEC,” said Jane.
“Which means it’s in the hands of the double-damned Mafia and their associates around the world.”
“If you fear for Jane’s safety, I have a very discreet security team guarding her night and day.” “You do?” Jane yelped.
Nobo made a small nod. “Ever since you spoke to me about your fears and Mr. Robertson’s murder.”
“Look,” Dan said, “I’ve got enough data from Kate Williams to blow Gaetano out of the water, but I don’t know who to give it to.” “The GEC has tied up most of the world’s media, Dan,” said Jane. “I’ve checked. Most of the member nations have imposed their official censorship laws. In the States, the major media have privately agreed to go along with the GEC’s blackout on the greenhouse crisis—at least for now.”
“Will they take the material I’ve got about the Mafia infiltrating Astro? And their plans for all the major industries?”
“From a criminal, a man wanted for kidnapping, terrorism, drug dealing, smuggling and grand larceny?” Dan grinned at her. “Lord, that sounds damned impressive, doesn’t it.*”
“It’s not funny, Dan.”
“There are always outlets for hot news,” Dan said. “The TV tabloids, the smaller news outfits.”
“Then it won’t be news, it will be gossip. Put your Mafia story alongside stories about three-headed babies being born on Mars and what have you got? No one will pay any attention.”
“Yeah,” Dan admitted grudgingly. “Nobody except the hit men.”
Nobo suggested, “You could give Dan’s information to the media, Jane. You are a very prestigious person. Your integrity is unquestioned.”
She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “The first thing they would ask would be where I got the information, what’s my source.
That would lead right back to Dan-”
“How about an anonymous leak in the Astro office?” “And who would that be?”
“A beautiful half-Ethiopian young woman who’d be a knockout on video.” Jane’s eyes narrowed. Nobuhiko asked, “Wouldn’t that expose her to danger?” “They’ve already tried to kill her.”
“Where is she? At Alphonsus?”
“I’ve brought her here. She’s staying with me.” “A beautiful young woman,” Jane said thinly.
Dan raised both hands over his head. “There’s nothing going on between us. I’m just trying to protect her.”
Jane looked totally dubious.
“Honest,” said Dan, trying to look sincere.
“If she is in such danger,” Nobo said, “then she must come with you to Kyoto .” “She should,” Dan agreed. “But I’m not going with you, Nobo.”
Nobuhiko shot him a questioning look.
“I’m going to be doing some highly illegal things, friends. I’ve thought it all out and it seems to be the only way to crack this nut open.”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you talking about?”
Dan took a deep breath. Then, “Jane, you can go to the American news media with my information and give them Tamara as your source. That’s even the truth, almost.”
“And I can keep her under my protection in Kyoto!
”
said Nobo.
”
said Nobo.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure that the media will take the story, even with Jane promoting it to them.” “They’d have to!” Jane snapped.
Dan made a lopsided grin. “Jane, honey, you’ve been in politics all your life. You know that the First Amendment guarantees the media the right to broadcast anything they choose to. But it doesn’t guarantee that they have to broadcast something they don’t want to.”
“They’d take this story!” Jane insisted. “One of them would and then the others would have to follow suit.”
“Suppose Malik threatens a court injunction? Or the current U.S. President leans on the media executives to bury the story? He’s no friend of yours, that imbecile in the White House.”
“I’ll get the story aired,” Jane said firmly. “And I’ll help you,” said Dan.
“How?”
“My way.”
She’s gone. Kate Williams lay sleepless on her bed, wondering where her sister was, fearing that she knew.
With Rafe. Somewhere down on Earth she’s letting that bastard do whatever he wants to her as long as he feeds her whatever crap she’s turned on to now.
She gripped the sheets so hard that her fingernails cut into her palms painfully. And I can’t do a thing about it! Not a goddamned motherfucking thing! How could she get away from Alphonsus? How could she even get out of her goddamned room without my permission.’? This whole place is honeycombed with Rafe’s people.
I thought I was running Astro, but he is, like a puppeteer from a quarter of a million miles away. He’s stolen my sister and now he knows he can make me jump through any hoop he wants just as long as he promises not to hurt her any more.
I’ll kill him! she screamed silently for the thousandth time. If he ever comes within arm’s reach of me again I’ll tear his throat out! But he won’t come close to me again. He’s too smart for that.
He knows me too well. Besides, he’s got my sister to fuck. The phone chirped.
Kate sat bolt upright and grabbed at the receiver. She kept the room unlit, the video circuit closed. “Katie? Did I wake you up?” Kim’s voice!
“No,” she managed to choke out. “I was awake anyway.”
The delay told Kate that her sister was back on Earth. “I just want to let you know that I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” “Where are you?”
She knew what the answer would be even while her sister’s reply made its way to her.
“In Italy ! It’s beautiful here! The beaches are all flooded right now but the weather’s wonderful and we have our own swimming pool.”
“We? You’re with Rare?”
Did Kim’s voice sound slightly blurry? Was she slurring her words? Kate listened hard.
“Yes. He’s wonderful. He says he sends you love and kisses. You want to talk to him? He’s right here. But I can’t put on the video ‘cause we’re both indecent!” Kim giggled like a schoolgirl.
“No,” Kate said, weary, defeated. “I don’t need to talk to Rare.
I’m sure that if he has any business to discuss with me he’ll call later.” “Okay. I just wanted you to know that I’m fine. I’m having a great time.”
“What are you taking?”
The delay seemed longer than before. “Taking? I’m not taking anything. I’m totally clean, Kate, honest.” “That’s good,” she said. “Stay that way.”
When she hung up the phone Kate remembered all the other times Kim had sworn she was clean. She always used the same phrase: “I’m totally clean, Kate, honest.”
She dropped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. Where are you, Dan Randolph’?. Why haven’t you done anything? You’ve got to get the bastard. Get him quick before he kills my little sister.
The Philharmonic Hall of Naples, Florida, had seen magnificent performers and illustrious audiences in the past, but never an occasion such as this. To celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the spacious, handsome building, the Naples Philharmonic Orchestra combined with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to gratify the creme de la creme of American society. No vulgar entertainment stars or other pop icons. No artists or authors or politicians. The one thousand elegant men and women who gathered at the Philharmonic this night were each multimillionaires, tycoons of commerce and industry, civic leaders who earned their lofty places in their communities the old-fashioned way: by buying in.
Jane Scanwell was invited not because she was a former President of the United States or the nation’s representative on the Global Economic Council. She was invited for the same reason everyone else was: because Texas oil and aerospace money had made her rich.
She accepted the gilt-edged invitation to the gala evening not because she had any desire to see or be seen by the leisure class. Jane came to Naples because she knew that the Empress Theodora, head of the largest news network in the world, would also be in attendance. The first half of the show ended with a rousing rendition of “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” The hall was still ringing with the audience’s heartfelt cheers when Jane swiftly left her box seat and managed to be casually strolling past the door to Theodora’s box when she opened it and stepped into the corridor.
“Theodora!” Jane said over the chatter of the crowd pushing past. “How nice.” “Why, Jane,” said Theodora, with equal sincerity, “I haven’t seen you in ages.”
They fell in step as they went with the flow of the crowd along the plushly carpeted corridor. Theodora was the taller of the two women, by an inch or so. She wore a black velvet double-breasted tuxedo jacket over a scoop-necked white silk tank blouse and black velvet slacks. Her ash blonde hair, usually pulled into a businesslike bun, fell to her shoulders in graceful waves. Jane was in a more conventional off-the-shoulder gown of jade green that set off her rich auburn hair beautifully. Both women wore enough jewelry to ransom a kingdom, but in this glittering crowd they were hardly noticed.
“I’ve been trying to reach you at the office,” Jane said, maneuvering toward one of the quiet little alcoves off to the side of the corridor.
“It’s always so hectic there,” said Theodora, her voice slightly brittle. The crowd was pushing past them and she did not like being bumped, even by her peers.
“Do you have a minute? Jane asked, gesturing toward the green marble bench in the alcove.
Looking distinctly unhappy at being trapped this way, Theodora turned to the lanky young man behind her and said, “Wally, would you get me a glass of wine, please? Not the champagne, it’s awful. White wine.”
Wally bobbed his head and asked, “And for you, ma’am?
“White wine will be fine,” said Jane.
They forced their way across the flow of the crowd and sat side by side on the marble bench.
“All right,” said Theodora, with the air of a patient getting into a dentist’s chair. “What is it you want?” Jane made a smile. “I want to hand your network the hottest story of the century.”
Theodora’s brows rose slightly. “Really?’
“You’ve heard rumors about the greenhouse cliff, haven’t you.?”
“I promised the President that my people would not be party to such rumors.” “It’s more than rumors, Theodora. The GEC is starting a program-”
“I said I promised the President.” “But-”
“I know he’s not of your party, Jane. But he is the President and I have promised him that I would keep the lid on this story.” Jane could not keep herself from frowning.
Which brought a smile to Theodora’s lips. “Why, from what I understand of it, the GEC itself has asked all the news media to keep quiet for the time being. Are you going against your own Council?” “There’s more to it than that, Theodora,” said Jane. “Much more. The GEC is honeycombed by criminals. This entire effort is being undermined by the international crime cartel.” widened Theodora’s eyes. “Are you certain?”
“I wouldn’t be telling you this if I weren’t certain. And frightened of what might happen.” “How do you know this? I mean, do you have any hard evidence that we could use?”
“Reams of evidence. From Astro Manufacturing. And if your reporters start digging into other major corporations, they’ll find—“ “Astro Manufacturing?” Theodora interrupted. “Isn’t that Dan Randolph’s company? Didn’t the GEC throw him out for cheating or stealing or something?”
“Dan Randolph , yes,” said Jane. “His company was confiscated.” “And he’s the one producing your evidence?”
“It’s from his former company.”
“You got it from Randolph himself, didn’t you?” “Yes.”
“And you didn’t turn him over to the authorities?” “He’s not guilty of anything,” Jane said.
Theodora’s smile turned pitying. “I’ve heard rumors for years that you two were hot for each other. Even when he married that Latin American woman, the stories were floating around about the two of you.”
“That has nothing to do with the current situation,” Jane said. But Theodora clearly did not believe her. “Jane, how can I put any credence into a wild tale told by a wanted criminal?”
“But the greenhouse cliff is the greatest threat the human race has ever faced!” Jane insisted. “And the Mafia’s crippling our attempts to avert the disaster!”
“The Mafia.” Theodora sighed. “It’s all true!”
“Jane, dear, even if it is all true, I have promised the President that I will not allow my people to report this supposed disaster story. He doesn’t want people unnecessarily frightened and I agree with him. I am not going to promote a scare story.”
Jane got to her feet. Looking down on Theodora, she snapped, “Then you’d better be a damned good swimmer.”
She turned and stamped off into the crowd still milling around the bar at the end of the corridor. Wally came back with two fluted glasses of white wine, looking surprised that his boss was alone.
The mayor of New Orleans frowned at the somber faces around her. She tapped the report on her desk, lying closed in its forest green plastic binder. She had read the executive summary before convening this meeting. She had neither the time, the inclination, nor the technical understanding to read the full report.
Now she scowled at the men who had come to talk about it. They all looked dismally grave, as if they had to make her take medicine she didn’t want to take, All men, all of them.
“Do you know how much it would cost to build the levees higher?” she asked accusingly. She had been a prosecuting attorney who had toppled the previous administration in a sensational series of trials for outrageously inept corruption.
“No matter what it costs,” said the state’s environmental man, “it’s going to have to be done.” “And how much will the state put in to pay for this?”
“The city’s more than five feet below sea level, for the most part,” the man insisted, ignoring her question. “Do you want five feet of water covering everything?”
“We won’t have to improve the river levee,” said the city engineer. “Just the lake.” “Just the lake?” the mayor asked acidly.
The city engineer flapped his hands. “We can do the river later. The lake seems to be the first problem.”
“The existing levee is too low for the worst-case situation,” said the environmental man.
“It’s ten feet above the level of the lake,” the mayor snapped.
“But, Yor Honoh, the lake’s level has been rising, that’s the lord’s truth,” said the majority leader. “Y’know, I live out by Metarie and I tell you, oi’ Pontchartrain is on the rise. Why, you can see it on the causeway. Gettin’ higher all the time.”
“How much in the past five years?”
The environmental man flipped through the copy of the report he held on his lap. “Two inches,” he replied.
“How much in the next ten years?”
Squinting at the numbers, “Four inches, maybe six.” “And the existing levee is ten feet above the water level?”
The man from the federal Severe Storms office piped up. “It’s not the average water level that causes the problem, Miz Mayor. It’s the worst-case scenario.”
“Worst case.”
“Exactly. For example, usually the Mississippi stays within its normal banks. But when it floods, well, you certainly need those concrete levees, don’t you?”
“Pontchartrain has never risen ten feet above its normal level.”
“Not even in a hurricane?” the federal man shot back, smirking at her. “And we’ve got the pumping stations.”
“But what if-”
“No what ifs? she snapped. “This city has all sorts of problems and they all require money. Do you think I can go to the voters and tell them they’ve got to pony up how many hundreds of millions of dollars because Pontchartrain is rising two inches every five years?”
“Somebody’s got to do it,” muttered the environmental man.
“Not in my administration,” she said coldly. “Maybe in twenty years or so the lake might be getting high enough to warrant raising the levee. Maybe in twenty years it’ll all dry up and disappear! Who knows?”
The city engineer said, “If there’s some disaster, like a really strong hurricane or-”
“We’ll face that problem when we come to it,” said the mayor. “I’m not about to spend the taxpayers’ money on some scientific theory.”
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