by Ben Bova
“I’m going to dispense with the usual formalities,” O’Banian said, “and proceed directly to—”
“May I interrupt?” Humphries asked, holding up his hand like a schoolboy.
O’Banian murmured, “Of course.”
Rising to his feet, Humphries said earnestly, “I wasn’t able to attend the emergency meeting of the board that was called when news of Dan Randolph’s unfortunate death was revealed.”
Unfortunate? Pancho snarled inwardly.
“You all know that his death was partially my own fault. I played too rough, and I’ve seen the consequences. Please believe me, I never wanted to have Dan die.”
The hell you didn’t, Pancho said to herself. Looking along the table, though, she was shocked at the sympathetic expressions on many of the directors’ faces.
“My real crime,” Humphries went on, “was wanting to run Astro Corporation. And I let that ambition override my common sense. I saw Dan driving this fine organization into bankruptcy, and I knew that I could do better.”
He stopped, hung his head for a moment. Pancho thought, The sumbitch should’ve been an actor.
“I’m truly sorry that Dan is dead. I feel a great weight of responsibility for it, even though that is not what I intended. I’ll pay the price for my mistake for the rest of my life.”
Pancho could barely keep herself from throwing something at him. But the other directors seemed calm, accepting.
Humphries wasn’t through. “I know we can pull Astro through its current crisis. Despite Dan’s unfortunate death, the mission to the Asteroid Belt was actually a success. Star-power Limited now has rights to two asteroids that are worth several trillion international dollars on today’s commodities markets. And Astro, of course, owns one third of Starpower.”
“One half,” Pancho snapped.
Humphries stared at her for a long, speechless moment. “One half,” he admitted at last. “That’s right. Astro now owns half of Starpower.”
“And Selene owns the other half,” said Pancho.
Humphries bristled. Pancho grinned at him, thinking, I hope you choke on the money you’ll be makin’.
Hattie O’Banian broke the tension-filled silence. “Thank you, Mr. Humphries. At this time, before we go on to the regular agenda, I would like to welcome Ms. Priscilla Lane to the board.”
Pancho watched Humphries raise an eyebrow. Immediately, the oriental woman, sitting across the table from him, said, “Ms. Lane hasn’t yet been elected to the board.”
“I’m sure we can do that by acclamation,” O’Banian said. “After all, Dan specifically—”
“It’s customary to vote on a new member,” said a florid-faced man with a full gray beard sitting a few chairs down from Humphries. “After all, a position on the board isn’t hereditary,” the florid man grumbled. He reminded Pancho of Santa Claus, except that he was nowhere near being jolly. “You can’t inherit board membership just because a dying man willed it to you.”
Pancho understood the implication. Cripes, they think I was sleepin’ with Dan and that’s why he named me to the board.
O’Banian looked displeased. “Very well, then. In that case, I believe we should allow Ms. Lane to say a few words about herself.”
All faces turned toward Pancho. Thinking furiously, she got slowly to her feet.
In her mind she heard Dan telling her, My personnel people think you’re a flake, Poncho. The rap on you is that you ‘re not serious. She knew that each member of the board had seen her personnel file. Okay, Pancho, she said to herself, time to grow up and start bein’ serious. You’re in the big leagues now. You gotta show them your best.
She took a deep breath, then started, “I was just as surprised as any Of you when Dan Randolph said he wanted me to take his place on this board. I’m an engineer and pilot, not a banker or a lawyer. But Dan said the board needed some fresh blood, and he picked me. So here I am.”
Surveying the men and women watching her, Pancho went on, “I think I know why Dan wanted me here—and it wasn’t for my good looks, either.”
A few chuckles. O’Banian smiled broadly.
“With all due respect to you, I think this board could use somebody who has some practical experience in Astro’s activities. Dan sure did, but I don’t think any of you have been involved in the company’s actual operations. I’ve been flyin’ Astro spacecraft for nearly seven years now. I’ve been out to the Belt and back. That’s where our best chance of makin’ real profits lies: out in the Belt. I know what it takes to get the job done. I think I can help this board to make the right decisions as we start to tap the resources of all those asteroids. Thank you.”
She sat down. No one applauded. Humphries gave her a hard stare, then swept his eyes along the table, trying to fathom the opinions of the other directors.
“Oh, one more thing,” Pancho said, without getting up from her chair. “If you do elect me to the board, I intend to vote for Ms. O’Banian as the new chairman.”
Now Humphries scowled openly.
O’Banian said, “Very well. Let’s vote, shall we? All in favor of Ms. Lane, raise your hands.”
Two hours later, as the meeting broke up, Humphries accosted Pancho.
“Well, now you’re a board member,” he said “By the margin of two votes.”
“And Ms. O’Banian is the chairman of the board.”
Humphries scoffed, “Do you think that’s going to stop me from taking control of Astro?”
“It won’t stop you from tryin’, I know that.”
“I’ll get Astro,” he said firmly. “And Starpower, too, eventually.”
“Maybe,” said Pancho. “And maybe not.”
He laughed at her.
“lissen, Humpy,” Pancho growled. “I don’t give a shit how your lawyers wiggled you out of it, you killed Dan Randolph. I’m gonna make sure that he haunts you for the rest of your natural days.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Humphries.
Now Pancho laughed. “You will, Humpy. You surely will.”
