Foundation's Mistress

Prologue: Concilio Deorum

Renate Steenkamp made a deliberate show of looking bored throughout the Chief Executive Officer's presentation to the Halcyon Board.

In truth, she was more than intrigued by the proposal. But unlike some of the other Board members, she did a much better job of concealing that fact.

Perhaps she had overdone the air of practised disinterest. The contrast between her game face and the exuberance of the other Directors was a little too strong, now. The applause was not dying down at all. If one of the others had thought of starting a Mexican wave around the Board table, she was sure it would be on its ninth lap by now.

'Members of the Board, I thank you for your praise,' Hugo Bareilles responded, his deep bass voice ringing out, immediately bringing the room to order.

My God. Could his voice sound any more urbane?

Renate was sure that three-fifths of Hugo's success in life must have been derived from the effect of that voice alone. That, together with his jawline, not to mention his flair for the theatrical.

He had certainly chosen his moment. Just as he'd finished his address, the sun flickered out from behind a distant cloud on the Aruban skyline, filling the Board room on the ninety-first floor of Halcyon's headquarters with an ethereal glow. The creation could not have picked a better way to proclaim that Hugo's plan was Halcyon's certain destiny, perhaps as if it had been inscribed on the foundations of the universe itself.

Perhaps.

It was little wonder the Board were excited. If executed well, the proposal would guarantee the shareholders a river of dividends for the better part of the next century. The profit-making potential was breathtaking.

'And now,' he continued, 'if there are no further comments or questions, I'd suggest that the Board put the proposal to the vote.'

There was a respectful hush. The Chairman, Ito Perez, looked up and down the table excitedly, catching eyes with the dozen or so Board members, gauging their readiness to vote.

'I have a question or two, if you please,' Renate said assertively.

Hugo flashed her a winning smile. 'By all means.'

'First, Hugo, I feel I must acknowledge your visionary leadership in crafting this proposal...'

'Oh,' Hugo said, ostentatiously waving his hand as he cocked his head in leonine fashion, offering a winning smile. 'Please, Ren, you don't need to say that. It was a team effort.'

'Dr Steenkamp, if you please,' She corrected him.

Hugo was new to the company. Although her close friends did call her 'Ren' she wasn't about to give him that opportunity. But if there was one thing she hated, it was an assumption of familiarity. Especially when it happened to be a condescending male who was making the assumption. As a female South African, she passionately believed that such men needed to be kept in line. Or at the very least, opposed on principle.

Renate prided herself on getting a psychological advantage during interplay across the Board table. Others would often underestimate her, because her pretty eyes, her sweet voice, her calm nature and her reputation as a caring academic made her seem motherly, and hence innocuous. The truth was that she had nerves of steel. She had never been able to have children. Further, she was so intent on her research specialty and her fiduciary obligations as a professional director that considerations caught up with sentiment often faded to the periphery. It was rare for anyone, man or woman, to successfully take her on in an argument.

'As I was saying,' she said, 'you are to be congratulated. I can see why the shareholders selected you as Chief Executive Officer. It appears they understood much about your outstanding leadership paradigm. And I can see that your business plan will most certainly break the Halcyon Entertainment away from its heritage as a stagnant duopoly player and transform us into a world-leading entertainment provider.'