The Silent War

SELENE: EARTHVIEW RESTAURANT

Levi Levinson had never seen such a luxurious restaurant, except in videos. The main eating establishment of Hotel Luna, the Earthview was three levels deep beneath the floor of the crater Alphonsus, big enough to hold a hundred tables covered with heavy damask tablecloths and glittering with silver tableware and sparkling wine glasses and lit by real, actual flickering candles. The spacious room buzzed softly with muted conversations and the barest hint of elegant classical music purring from the overhead speakers. Real, live waiters moved among the tables wearing formal evening clothes. Levinson never gave a thought to the fact that he was wearing his usual coveralls; he had nothing better in his meager wardrobe. Nor did he realize that most of the restaurant’s tables were empty. His eyes went to the wide holoscreens mounted on the walls, each showing a real-time view of Earth, glowing blue and white against the endless blackness of space as it hung in the sky above Alphonsus’s ringwall mountains.

He was more than a quarter-hour early for his appointment with Victoria Ferrer, so the table that the maitre d’ led him to was empty. He sat ogling the well-dressed tourists and executives at the few other occupied tables, while a waiter poured water for him and left a wine list on the table. Levinson was satisfied with the water. He really wanted a beer, but he felt too self-conscious to ask for one.

After so many weeks in Selene, living in an apartment provided by Astro Corporation, Levinson felt a little guilty about accepting an invitation to dine with an executive from the rival Humphries Space Systems. But what the hell, he thought, I’m not an Astro employee and Pancho Lane has just totally ignored me since she brought me here. It’s like she wants me out of the way, hidden like some witness against a crime syndicate back on Earth. I’ve got nothing better to do until the Journal of Nanotechnology publishes my paper. And even there, they’ve been dragging their feet, like they don’t really want to publish it.

Those were the thoughts tumbling through his mind when Victoria Ferrer came up to his table and said:

“You’re Dr. Levinson? I’m Vicki Ferrer.”

Something in the back of his mind told Levinson he should get to his feet, that’s the polite thing. But all he could do was gape at this splendidly beautiful woman standing before him. Ferrer wore a dress of some gold metallic stuff that gleamed in the candlelight and clung to her enticingly.

The waiter held her chair as she sat down, smiling at Levinson. He felt breathless.

Dinner was like some romantic dream. Vicki did the ordering while Levinson simply stared at her, entranced. As they worked their way through the several courses, each accompanied by a special wine, Levinson found himself telling her the story of his life. It sounded plain and dull and boring to him, but she seemed vitally interested in every word.

“And you actually have programmed nanos to process the ores from asteroids?” she asked, her wide brown eyes gleaming with respect, maybe even fascination, he thought.

He went into details about it, but inevitably ended with the disappointing information that the rock rats refused to use his process because they considered it too dangerous.

“It’s not really dangerous,” Levinson insisted. “I mean, it could be, but I could work out procedures for them that would bring the risk down to a manageable level.”

“I’m sure you could,” said Vicki, reaching for the sauterne that had been served with dessert.

“But they’re not interested in it,” Levinson said unhappily.

“Aren’t they?”

“No.”

She leaned slightly closer to him. “Then why has Pancho Lane ordered her people at Ceres to go ahead with nanoprocessing?”

Levinson blinked at her. “She what?”

“Astro Corporation is preparing to use nanomachines to mine asteroids.”

“But that’s my work! I published it! I mean, I’ve got it to the journal and—”

“I’m sure Astro will pay you a royalty of some sort,” Ferrer said. “Probably a pittance, just to avoid a lawsuit.”

Levinson felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart.

Ferrer reached across the table and touched his hand. “Lev, how would you like to work for Humphries Space Systems? How would you like to be in charge of a whole operation out in the Belt?”

“Me?”

“You. You’re the man we want, Lev. You’ll be in charge of nanoprocessing operations at the salary level of a senior executive.”

He didn’t even bother to ask how much money that meant. He knew it was astronomically more than a laboratory scientist made.

“I’d be very grateful if you said yes, Lev,” Victoria Ferrer told him, her voice a whisper, her eyes lowered shyly.

He nodded dumbly. She smiled her warmest at him. Levinson walked on air all the way back to his quarters, with Vicki at his side. She allowed him to give her a fumbling peck on the lips, then left him standing there in the corridor, slightly drunk with wine, more intoxicated with thoughts of being in charge of a major corporate operation and maybe even having this beautiful woman fall in love with him.

He watched her walk down the corridor, then turned to his door and fumbled with the electronic combination lock. Finally stumbling into his apartment, he told himself, This was just our first date. It went pretty damned well. I think she really likes me.

Victoria Ferrer rode the powered stairs down to her own quarters, a quiet smile of accomplishment playing across her lips. We’ve got him, she said to herself. Martin will be pleased.