Helen sighed. “It’s not just you, Grace. The yewners have us all on the carpet They’ve called for an audit, so the books have to be opened.” She did not say why, but it was hard. She wanted to yell, was it you? Did you put us in this position? Did you tell the yewners that our salvation is a fraud?
Grace’s face softened a little. “I suppose that’s only to be expected. After all, the eyes of the world are upon us,” she intoned. “How’s that going, by the way?” she asked in a more normal voice.
Helen shrugged and sat behind her desk, setting her coffee cup down in front of her. “As U.N. publicity, it seems to be a big success. I’ve been getting congratulatory bursts from our Mr. Waicek telling me what a marvelous job we’re doing keeping his people fed and watered.” She curled her hands loosely around her cup, feeling the warmth seep into her palms. “I think the C.A.C. folks do not want us to get above ourselves. Because we’re a chartered colony, they have a right to look at our books. If they wanted to make real trouble, an easy route would be to say we’re not using all our new resources efficiently and that we need to be regulated.” Helen sipped her coffee and returned it to the circle of her hands. “So this means we get an audit, and this means that the people with the biggest budget increases are going to get special attention.” Helen smiled wanly. “This means you.”
“This means me.” Grace studied Helen for a minute. Searching her face for what? Helen could not guess. Helen returned the woman’s gaze, although it did not take much looking to see Grace’s native stubbornness settling in. Helen braced herself for a fight.
In the next moment, however, Grace’s expression eased, almost as if she’d learned what she wanted to know. “Okay, Helen. I’ll play. What do you need?”
“I need to go over your expenses with you.” Helen lit up her desk screen. “If you can jack into your records and follow along, help me fill in the blank spots. I’d appreciate it.”
Grace took another swallow of coffee and set her cup down on the edge of Helen’s desk. “Well, I won’t enjoy it, but let’s do it.” She worked the secondary command board to open her private logs. “Where do you want to start?”
The next hour felt almost like a ritual. Helen laid out the expense reports for the time immediately up to the Discovery on her desk screen and went down the line, questioning each point of income and each corresponding point of outflow. Grace answered solemnly, pausing to check her private records when her memory faltered. Helen made notes. They both drank their coffee, refilling the cups whenever they emptied.
“Last thing,” said Helen finally. The look on Grace’s face was one of disbelief. “Really.” Grace granted and made a “come on” gesture. Helen gave her a sour half-smile. “Just the new supporter. Biotech 24.”
“Oh, them.” Grace ruffled her strawberry-blond bangs. “They’re venture capitalists of the old school. Very twentieth. Bet on the underdog kind of thing. I made a pitch that alien RNA might prove to be highly useful, and they dug into their pockets. Not as far as I would have liked, though.” She smiled thoughtfully at her coffee. “Although, I haven’t been back since the Discovery. We’ve been too busy.”
“Haven’t exactly needed to, have you?” Helen looked at her spreadsheets. “People have been waving money in your face.”
“It’s a nice change,” admitted Grace. “For all of us.”
“And you’ve been keeping your people busy spending it.” Helen touched a key and a new set of records appeared on her desk screen. “They’ve been logging in a lot of scarab time as well.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve got Kevin Cusmanos yammering at me for being too hard on his babies and his pilots.” She saw Helen’s look and raised her free hand. “Okay, I admit it I’ve been pushing. But I’ve got no idea how long the largesse is going to last. I finally have the chance to make my case and be taken seriously. I wanted to move on it.”
Helen nodded. She understood that feeling all too well. “I’ve just got to keep on top of what’s good for Venera, Grace. Our whole colony’s on the line here.”
Grace shook her head. “You’ve been listening to Bennet too long, Helen. C.A.C.’s not going to take it away from us for a set of proto-proteins and a hole in the ground. The yewners have got better things to do.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Helen fervently. She blanked her desk. “It all looks good, Grace. Thanks for your patience.”