He hesitated just a fraction of a second, then smiled again and answered, “Yes. Of course. I’ll handle it for you.”
They were unendingly grateful. It took a full ten minutes of handshaking and bowing before Eberly could usher them out of his office. They did not even notice Holly standing by the doorway as they left, still bowing their thanks.
“That was wonderful of you, Malcolm,” Holly said as she went to the chair that the woman had been sitting in.
“Population control,” he muttered as he stepped behind his desk and sat down. “I made certain that the human resources department got that responsibility. The ecologists wanted it, but I wrangled it away from them.”
Holly nodded.
Pointing to the still-open doorway with a grin, Eberly said, “There’s a couple who will be loyal to me forever. Or until their child becomes a teenager.”
Holly did not see any humor in that. “You wanted to see me?” she said.
“Yes,” he said as he snapped his fingers, the signal for his computer to boot up.
Holly waited in silence as the image formed above Eberly’s desk. It was a list of some sort. It was facing him, so to her the hologram was turned backwards, inverted. She sat and waited while he studied the list. The office seemed small and bare and, somehow, cold.
At last he looked up from the image and gazed directly at her. Holly felt those laser blue eyes penetrate to her soul.
“There are going to be some changes in this office,” he said, without preamble, without asking how she was or noticing that she was wearing a plain sky blue tunic over her slacks, with no adornments other than her name badge, just as the dress code guidelines called for.
“Changes?”
“Yes,” Eberly said. “I won’t be able to continue directing the day-to-day operations of this office. I will be busy organizing the government of the habitat.”
“Government? But I thought—”
“Holly,” he said, leaning forward slightly in his desk chair, toward her. She leaned toward him, too. “Holly, we have ten thousand men and women here. They must have a voice in choosing the kind of government they want. And their leaders.”
Holly said, “You mean the government we’ll create once we get to Saturn.”
Eberly shook his head. “I don’t believe we should wait until we arrive in Saturn orbit. The people should decide on the government they want now. Why wait?”
“But I thought that as long as we’re in transit out to Saturn we have to—”
“We have to follow the protocols set down by the consortium,” Eberly finished for her.
“Yes,” Holly said.
“Why?” he demanded. “Why should we allow ourselves to be governed by rules written by a group of university graybeards who remained behind on Earth? What right do they have to force us to obey their rules?”
Holly thought a moment. “That’s what we agreed to, though.”
“It’s time to end that agreement. What difference does it make if we do it now or wait until we arrive at Saturn?”
She thought his question cut both ways. Why rush into this now?
“We should not allow arrogant old men to tell us what we can and cannot do,” Eberly said, with some heat. His face was reddening, Holly saw.
“Maybe not,” she agreed, half-heartedly.
“Of course not,” he said. “The people must decide for themselves.”
“I guess.”
“These contests you’re setting up to pick names for the villages and everything else, they are a part of my plan,” he confided.
That surprised her. “Your plan?”
“Yes. By themselves, the contests are little more than trivia, entertainment for the masses. But they serve a larger purpose.”
“I click,” Holly said. “Getting the people to vote in the contests will be like a sort of training exercise, right? It’ll prepare the people to vote for their government when the time comes.”
Eberly gave her the full radiance of his best smile. “You are extremely bright, Holly. Extremely bright.”
She could feel her cheeks grow warm.
But Eberly’s face grew somber. “There’s something else, though. Something lacking.”
“Lacking?”
With a preoccupied nod, Eberly muttered, “Some sort of goal, something that I can focus everyone’s attention on.” He looked into Holly’s eyes and said, “I need an aim, a lofty mission for these people, something to unite them behind me.”
“We already have a goal,” Holly reminded him. “We’re going to explore Saturn and its moons.”
Eberly made a disappointed grumble. “That’s a goal for the scientists. What about the rest of us?”
She shrugged. “There’s the rings. They’re pretty spectacular. Maybe we could make entertainment videos—” Suddenly Holly’s eyes flashed wide and her mouth dropped open.
“What is it?” Eberly asked.
“The rings,” she said. “They’re made of ice. Water ice.”
He frowned, uncomprehending.
“Water’s valuable, isn’t it? Miners in the Asteroid Belt get as much for water ice as they do for gold, don’t they? More, even.”
“Water ice,” Eberly murmured.
“The rings are made of it.”
“We could sell it, yes. We could be rich on it!”
“If Dr. Urbain gives permission to mine the rings.”
“Urbain,” Eberly growled. “That academic.”
“But he’s in charge—”
“Not once we get a new constitution in place.”
“Oh,” said Holly. “I click.”
Eberly raised a warning finger. “Not a word about this to anyone, Holly. I don’t want to get Urbain broiling before we’re ready for his resistance.”
“I’ll keep quieter than a tomb.”
“Good. We both have a lot of work ahead of us, Holly.”
She nodded.
“While you are running the contests,” he said, utterly serious, almost grim, “I must devote all my efforts to drawing up a constitution for the people.”
“So, if you’re going to be busy setting up this new constitution and everything, who’s going to run the office here?”
“You will.”
Holly gulped. “Me?”
He smiled at her surprise. “Of course you. Who else?”
“But I can’t be in charge,” she squeaked. “I’m just an assistant, a house mouse—”
Eberly’s smile widened. “Holly, haven’t you been my assistant? What better qualifications for the task can there be?”
She wanted to turn handsprings. “But… d’you think the prof will okay me being named director?”
His smile vanished. “Wilmot,” he muttered. “No, he would definitely not approve of someone as junior as you being named director. Him and his rigid regulations.”
Holly watched his face, waiting for a ray of hope.
“I want you to head this office, Holly,” he said. “You can do the work, I know you can.”
“I’d do my warping best.”
“Of course you will. But since I can’t officially name you director, I must place someone else in the acting director’s position. A figurehead. To placate Wilmot.”
“Figurehead? Who?”
“Ruth Morgenthau will fill the role nicely. She’s working in the administrative services office at present. I can transfer her here and Wilmot won’t blink an eye.”
Morgenthau, Holly thought. So that’s why he’s been spending so much time with her.
“She’s rather lazy, you know,” he said, grinning naughtily. “And rather vain. We’ll let her sit at this desk and stay out of your way. You will run the department.”
“She would do that?”
Nodding, he replied, “She’d leap at the chance. More prestige, less work. She’ll love it.”
“I click.” Holly tried to grin back at him, but it was forced.
He reached across the desk and lifted her chin so he could stare into her eyes. “It all depends on you, Holly. Will you take on this responsibility? Will you do this for me?”
Holly felt a rush of emotions surge through her: gratitude, loyalty, a longing to please Malcolm Eberly, a yearning to have him love her.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll do anything for you, Malcolm.”