Harry walked Moreau out to the landing platform overlooking the frigid dark waters.

"What just happened?" Moreau demanded once they were outside. "The deal's dead?"

Harry nodded. "Not dead, but new terms."

The pair climbed into a PAV and powered up as ground crews pulled away wheel blocks. Flight time to Chicago at the aeroflyer's cruise speed of 250 mph was one hour twenty.

The men left flight controls for the Nav-AI. On-board computers-initiated lift-off; radar and LIDAR ranged out, the altimeter and speed counter both showing ascending numbers. Once the craft crossed the US-Canadian border over Lake Superior, the men talked openly.

"My offer is legitimate and in good faith," Moreau said, agitated. "You assured me she'd be receptive. Instead, I put up with her obtuseness -- and arrogance. I don't care who she is or how much she's worth."

"The lady's more astute than you think. She saw it for what it is -- fraught with risk. Conclave is at stake, a bad time for pulling any wild moves."

"So now what? I stuck my neck out coming to you."

"You stuck your neck out for your own skin and a fortune -- don't confuse yourself." Harry gave him an icy stare-down. "Look, I'll make it work but you gotta step up."

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"Maybe I should be talking to someone else up the chain?"

"I have her ears -- and she has Carlyle's, Midland's Chairmark himself," Harry said. "And between them, there are layers of gatekeepers like me without whom you could never hope to approach. So forget about circumventing me. You sounded stupid and small with that bluff."

Moreau kept quiet.

"Go public on Caracas."

Moreau looked with alarm. "You can't mean it. That's suicide."

"You'll have the protection you asked for, you have my word."

"I handed you my work, my soul, and you refused." Moreau grimaced. "I'm not confident about the integrity of your word, DeWitt."

"At this moment, taking Carnivora is like stealing the Mona Lisa. We can't show it, can't resell it, and if the word gets out, we're done."

"This isn't theft, I paid for it with sweat and tears."

"Don't be naïve." Harry chuckled slightly, trying not to goad his passenger. "Your bosses had it measured, packaged and ready to ship before you even conceived it. It's not yours. Never was."

"Then I have nothing, you're telling me," Moreau stammered.

"Yes, you have. You're in the position to do real good."

"Or damage. I'm stupid for trusting you."

"You said you want out with a sweet package. Then go public."

"Out of the question."

"Take the final step and cross over. Once under our wings, you could continue your project to your heart's content. By then we'd have a new PIP, and no one would question how Carnivora surfaced in Midland. Understand? This is the only way."

"Going public will get me killed," Moreau said.

"And defecting with a capital project won't? Oh, grow a spine, Ian. Or go begging elsewhere. Let's see how far you get before someone jails you for treasonous espionage."