Hedges was back in space. And this time it was more than a daytrip.
The Conservancy’s board of trustees wanted him near the Tigershark, which meant a long-term stay at the International Space Station.
As before, Hedges objected. He loathed the cold sterility. Warm breezes, blue skies, the company of his dog – these were the pleasures that mattered to Austin Hedges.
The trustees insisted. Tigershark threatened the balance of power, they said. He needed to stay close, where he could gather intel. Learn as much as you can, they told him. Find opportunities, they urged.
Hedges refused, even threatened to resign. “I’m too old for the spy game,” he told them. “Get a young person to play.”
But they wanted his wisdom, his deep experience. And they were willing to pay dearly for it.
His compensation package included a large suite in the ISS Resort Hotel, with meals at its five-star restaurants, and passage for his golden retriever, Max.
The last point proved troublesome. Few animals were permitted aboard the space station. Fur tended to tax the air filters.
But Hedges insisted, and the Conservancy made it happen. An eager Max flew into orbit, leaving nose-prints on the shuttle windows.
Now, on his fourth day in space, Hedges leaned back in a plush chair of the resort’s observation lounge. A server placed a glass of pinot on the polished table before him. Hedges nodded, then returned to the view of Earth’s surface.
He missed the warm breezes, but not as much as he had expected.
A well-dressed woman took the opposite seat. Her pale skin amplified her penetrating eyes. The face matched the icy voice he had come to know so well.
“Karmala, I presume?”
She bowed slightly. “You seem to have adjusted to your new environment.”
“Trying my best,” he replied, taking a sip. “Glass of wine?”
“I prefer to keep this brief. Frankly, I would have preferred not to come at all. It’s a risk for me to be here.”
Hedges set his glass on the table. “I’m aware, and I’m grateful. It was necessary.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, “if we are to expand our partnership, I need some assurances.”
Karmala folded her hands in her lap, waiting.
“First, I need your word that nothing will ever be traced back to the Conservancy. My employers were quite clear about that.”
“Nobody in my organization knows of the Conservancy’s involvement but me,” she said. “Your funds are laundered dozens of times.”
“Good.” He paused. “I also need to know about your commitment level.”
“Explain.”
“I mean, you fancy yourself a business person. Right?”
She eyed him coldly. “Yes.”
“Business people know when to cut their losses. If things go south, how likely are you to simply cut and run?”
The eyes drilled into him. “Mr. Hedges, I finish what I begin.”
He glanced to the window, thinking as he watched night creep across India.
“I could ask the same question,” she noted.
“The Conservancy is built on promises,” he said, waving a hand. “You know our history.”
The lounge began to fill with people coming from dinner. Glassware clinked as the bartenders went into high gear.
“I should go,” said Karmala.
“Wait,” he said, reaching into his suit jacket.
Hedges produced a data thorn and placed it on the table between them.
“What is this?”
“Complete set of schematics for the Tigershark,” he said. “Every conduit, every weapon system.”
The steely eyes flashed surprise. “How did you get it?”
“Magicians,” he said with a faint smile, “never reveal their secrets.”
Karmala took the thorn and left in a single motion. She vanished into the crowd.
Hedges ordered another glass of wine and settled deeper into the plush chair.
He had no doubt of Karmala’s cunning. She could achieve any goal she wished.
Whether he could fully trust her, well, that was a separate issue.
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