Faust Among Equals by Tom Holt

Author:Tom Holt
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1993-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

COME in,” said the Finance Director, “sit down, make yourselves at home. What can I get you to drink?”

The Captain of Spectral Warriors looked suspiciously round, perched on the edge of a chair, and said that he’d quite fancy a small Babycham, if that wasn’t too much trouble.

“Small Babycham coming right up,” replied the Finance Director, bustling. “Now then, introductions. This is the Company Secretary, the Head of Security you already know, of course, and this is Harry, he’s the Production Director, and Steve, who heads our Sales team. Lads, I’d like you all to meet Vince, Captain of Spectral Warriors.”

The boardroom table bobbed and sparkled with smiles and little waves. Unnerved, the Captain waved back.

“Right,” said the Finance Director. “Here’s your small, er, Babycham. Everyone else, then, the usual? Right, fine.” He clattered some bottles and whooshed a soda syphon.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, Vince? What can we do for you? Peanuts, perhaps? Or how about an olive? Steve, get the olives.”

“Right, coming up, won’t be a—”

“Excuse me,” the Captain repeated, “but what’s all this in aid of? With respect and all that, but…”

The various directors nodded approvingly. Here was a man, they seemed to be saying, who comes straight to the point and no mucking about.

“Well,” said the Company Secretary, folding his wings on the table in front of him, “basically, what we wanted to do was, well, really say thank you for all you’ve been doing…”

“Greatly appreciated…”

“Sterling stuff, of course, absolutely sterling…And just kind of get to know you better, with possibly a view to asking you if you’ve ever considered—I mean if you’d like to—well, join the, um, board.”

“As a director,” the Production Director explained. “One of us.”

“Absolutely.”

“Quite.”

The Captain slowly put his glass down. “What,” he said,

“me?”

The Directors nodded. “Why not?” said the Head of Security. “Just the sort of bloke we’re looking for.”

“Committed.”

“Dedicated.”

“One hundred per cent, twenty-four hours a day, eight days a—”

“Seven days…”

“Oh, they did bring that in after all, did they?”

“Just a moment,” said the Captain. “Let’s just get this straight. You want me to be a Director?”

The Directors nodded. “Oh.”

“Just as soon—” The Finance Director addressed his remarks to the wall behind the Captain’s head. “—just as soon as we’ve cleared up this little bit of nonsense we’ve got on at the minute, of course. Actually, you might be able to help us there, because…”

A forty-watt bulb started to glow in the back of the Captain’s mind. He asked, “What little bit of nonsense?”

“This whatsisname…”

“Loonquest?”

“Lunkfish?”

“Lund-something. Damn, it’s on the tip of—No.”

The Captain stood up, his face white as a soap-ad sheet. “Absolutely not,” he went on. “Not after last time. Sorry, but—”

“Sit down.”

“I really don’t think there’s much point, because—”

“Sit down!”

The Captain sat down. Someone refilled his glass and the Production Director produced a bowl of cheese straws, some of which had already had the ends nibbled off. This was, after all, Hell; where all the boxes of chocolates come with the coffee creams already removed, and the detective stories in the library all have the last five pages missing.

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