When Jensen was finally done, his earlier hostility toward Madeline seemed to be on vacation for a while. A short holiday, at least. She was not surprised. From long experience, she knew that the period immediately after giving a pompous and officious speech was as relaxing and satisfying for bureaucrats of Jensen's type as the aftermath of orgasms was for most people.
He rose, nodded to her, and left the room. He did not, of course, offer to shake hands.
"What a prick," she said dispassionately, after he was gone. She made no attempt to keep the director from hearing. She knew full well that his own opinion of Jensen was no higher than hers, even though he'd never said anything explicitly. The entire current administration, for that matter, was held in no high regard by Hughes.
The director just smiled at her. "Ah, Madeline. Think what a disaster your career would have been if you'd gone into the Foreign Service and tried to become a diplomat."
"Could have been worse. I could have followed my first inclination and joined the Secret Service. Then spent my whole working life listening to speeches like that. And maybe—fate worse than death— had to take a bullet to let the windbag keep prattling."
He laughed softly. "Aren't you glad, now, that I saved you in time?"
"Pretty much. I've still got a bit of a grudge over Antarctica. I don't mind horrible conditions, and I can accept wasting half a year of my life. Putting the two together was a bit much."
"Well, look on the bright side. This new assignment will take a lot longer chunk of your life, and the conditions could definitely get worse than even Antarctica. But whatever else it'll be, it won't be a waste of your time."
"No, it certainly doesn't sound like it. How much authority will I have?"
"As much as you need."
She cocked her head skeptically.
"No, Madeline, I mean it. The reason the National Security Adviser insisted on sitting in on this meeting was because your assignment will be specifically authorized by the President. We're not going to have to work through the usual cut-outs on this one."
She pursed her lips in a soundless whistle. "I'll be damned. I would have thought hell would freeze over first."
"Don't overdo it. Whatever else, they are not stupid. They can't afford to play games with this one, and they know it. Even if the knowledge is making them choke a little."
The director picked up a large envelope on his desk. "This is your confirmation as head of security for the entire project. It's already got the President's signature on it. Jensen was here in case he decided to yank it at the last minute. Which—ha! by the skin of your teeth, you disrespectful hoyden—he didn't. I'll see to it that General Deiderichs gets a copy."
Madeline nodded. "All right. I assume you want me to start immediately."
"Magnanimously, I shall pretend I didn't hear that. Your flight to Albuquerque is already booked. Five hours from now, so don't dawdle."
Chapter 17
Joe leaned back in his chair and gave vent to a long-drawn sigh of relief. "Not a single malfunction!"
"You expected some? In our peerless experiments? Why, Fearless Leader, how could you ever have gotten the impression that anything could go wrong?" Lee Grimes' voice drawled from the other side of the Ares control center. His prosthetic leg was propped up on the console in front of him, encased in one of the Western boots Lee preferred. "It's not as though anything's ever gone wrong here."
Joe laughed. It made him feel twice as good that Lee was not only still here, but able to joke about the accident that had cost him his chance to go to Mars as well as his leg. "Of course not. Still, that far away, it'd be a little hard to tweak the valves if something froze up."
"Told you to send me along. If I left my leg behind, I'd just about have made the weight limit."
"Yes, but there was the issue of air, food, water, that kind of thing. Pirate didn't carry any of those, remember?"
"Hmm. Okay, you could have just sent my leg."
"It's your head that I'd need to send."
"Ouch! No, I think I'll keep it where it is. Still, it's nice to watch everything running. Just look at that! Ferris will have a couple ingots made before we have to shut down."
"And there'll be water in the tanks and fuel to burn before long," Anne put in. "We're on target for Pirate's return launch. Chibi-rover is happily surveying the landscape in Melas Chasma, too. One hundred percent success."
"Well, we don't know that for sure yet," Joe cautioned. "First, it ain't really over until the return launch and recovery. Second, A.J.'s Faeries have to pull off their miracle."