Foundation's Mistress

18. The Forces of Gravity

And so it is with treachery. She is a calculating mistress. Long before any can know of her ambition, her seeds are sown in the dark.

- Excerpt: The First Annals of The Mother, Book One. Date Unknown.

Renate activated the touchpad, opening the door to her apartment. 'I can't talk with you!' she blurted.

'Why is that, now?' Jeff asked, smiling as he lifted his forearm to rest on the door column, setting his beautiful shoulders at a jaunty angle, cheekily leaning in towards her.

You're a bloody distraction, Dr Hardness, she thought to herself.

Here she was, trying to save the world. And here he was, just being Jeff, what with all of that handsome goodness, that perfection.

She could have avoided this sexual tension, of course. If she had really wanted to remain uninterrupted, she could have chosen to talk with him in widescape over the intercom rather than physically open the door. Yes, perhaps that would have been safer. But it was beside the point.

And his smile told her he knew it.

'I've got to get a document to Hugo within the hour. It's a submission on how we approach the established civilisation on the New World.'

'I thought he was going to wipe them all out,' Jeff said dismissively. 'The situation is obviously hopeless. So you might as well have a drink with me.'

'Don't be insincere, Dr Harkness,' she said archly. 'If I don't get this in tonight, that's exactly what will happen. I'm worried sick.'

'Right,' Jeff nodded genuinely. 'I'll stop bothering you. Let me know once you're done. I'd like to take you out for a drink.'

She scrunched up her face, resisting the temptation to imagine the joy of being out with Jeff in contradistinction to the drudgery of writing her proposal.

'Sure,' was all she said.

'What's the bit you're stuck on?' he asked.

'Right. So I've got past the "Don't wipe them out" bit. Now I'm on the "What you should do instead" bit. And I've run out of any practical suggestions whatsoever.'

'They only occupy a part of the planet, right?'

'Yes. One tenth, apparently.'

'And they don't have the technology to monitor arrivals?'

'Not that we know of.'

'So here it is. One - land on the far side of the planet. Two - set up the operation and get it underway whilst remaining unobserved. Three - once settled, go and meet them as equals - as neighbours. Four - observe them and come to a diplomatic accommodation. They're humanoid, and they're principally women. They'll have an innate flair for foreign policy.'

Renate's eyes nearly popped out of her head.

'You know, Jeff, you're not just another pretty face.'

'Thank you.'

'No, really. I'll filter out the gender-bias shit on the foreign policy point, but other than that, it's a very workable plan! Do you want to come in and wait while I write that up?'

He laughed. 'Does that mean you're coming for a drink with me once you're done?'

'Absolutely,' she laughed. 'And that's the least I owe you.'

***

Fifty-five minutes later, they were sitting at the Syphon, one of the Spear's many watering holes. It was packed with people who were drinking, carousing, flirting and dancing.