Astor-Smath did not appear to have an answer at the ready. No one spoke: the silence dragged on until it became sharply uncomfortable. Nolan rose. “It appears that we are done. Oh, and Mr. Ruap—”
Ruap, halfway to his feet, paused.
“It’s possible that if you pull the plug on the mass driver partnership, Congress and American industry might be tempted to reexamine other deals they have with you.” Nolan opened the door to leave, smiled; it could have been a wolf displaying his teeth. “Just a thought.”
Caine had planned on remaining quiet until they reached their vehicles, but halfway there, Nolan took his arm. “I thought you already had breakfast.”
“Huh? I did.”
“Then I guess you were still hungry enough to eat Astor-Smath alive.”
“Hope I didn’t make any trouble.”
“I doubt it. He didn’t get any policy surprises here—although I suspect you caught him off guard when you put him on the spot personally.”
“Which was not wise,” added Downing at Caine’s other elbow. “Astor-Smath seems unflappable, but he’s got an ego—and the memory of an elephant.”
“Okay, Rich,” Nolan scolded, “stop scaring the new guy.”
“I’m scared enough as it is.” Caine sighed.
“Why?”
“Because CoDevCo must have foreseen this outcome.”
“Naturally,” agreed Corcoran.
“Then what was their real purpose in coming here? What are they up to?”
Nolan shook his head. “I haven’t a clue. But right now, we don’t have any way to find out. So we wait, watch, and—above all—remain completely focused on today’s business.”
CIRCE
The Sun, almost exactly overhead, duplicated itself in the man’s wraparound sunglasses, which were aimed skyward as if he were scrutinizing the details of the stellar disk. He returned his attention to the small earthenware bowl that had three small black olives left in it; a white dish beyond it sprouted a modest heap of well-chewed pits at its approximate center. Their brine still glistened on his index finger; he licked it tentatively. He smiled, stretched, sighed, checked his watch.
“More black olives, sir?”
If the man was startled by the young waiter approaching quickly from behind, he gave no sign of it. He shook his head, pointed to a jar of green olives: each was larger than the top half of his thumb. He paused. “Today, I may also have some wine. Red wine.”
The waiter smiled: the man tipped well and was not like most foreigners, who were constantly inquiring about different dishes, Greek food in general, the local sights. This man was quiet and very still, unusually so. And always alone. “I will get your order,” the waiter said with a nod, and was gone.
The man kept looking through the space the waiter had just vacated, kept looking up at the end of the Sounion headland.
Chapter Twenty-One
ODYSSEUS
Upon reentering the meeting hall several hours later, Caine expected to find it a hive of activity. What he found, when the security guard on his left opened the door and the one on his right ushered him in with outstretched hand, was an utterly still tableau made up of concentric rings of expectant humanity.
The innermost ring of ten persons was incomplete: seated about a round table, their circle was broken by two empty chairs. The next ring was that of the advisors, aides, assistants, and chroniclers who were seated behind their delegates. The outermost ring—as numerous as the other two put together—were (mostly) men whose eyes could not be seen: square-jawed and sunglassed, the security personnel projected the aura of waiting automatons, creatures who had long ago ceased to move in accordance with their own will. Caine could see the eyes of the other two rings, however—and they were all on him.
Nolan had been waiting beside the door, smiled when Caine noticed him, accompanied him to the two empty chairs at the round table, indicated the one on the right. Nolan stood behind the other, cleared this throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you have all heard about Mr. Riordan, and what he found and experienced during his three weeks on Delta Pavonis. Please remember that Mr. Riordan is not here in a political or official capacity. His credentials today are those of a well-regarded researcher and writer who, on the advice of Senator Arvid Tarasenko, was sent to assess conflicting reports regarding advanced life forms and structures found on Delta Pavonis Three. You already have his report—except for one footnote that he will now present to you himself.
“Mr. Riordan, allow me to introduce the bloc representatives gathered here today. Starting on your right: Ms. Hollingsworth of the UK and Mr. MacGregor of Australia; Mr. Sukhinin of Russia and Ms. Durniak of the Ukraine; Mr. Ching of China and Mr. Demirel of Turkey; Mr. Karagawa of Japan, and Mr. Medina of Brazil; and Ms. Visser of Germany and Mr. Gaspard of France.”