Dirk was feeling a little befuddled. He couldn’t complain about the food, and the wine was excellent, even though it was odd to be drinking a wine which poured different colors from the same bottle. He was on the planet Erstwhile, and he and the other Candidates were being treated to the famed Rainbow wines at a dinner party hosted by the wine producers, who called themselves the Vintners Association of Erstwhile. The dinner had been arranged at considerable cost (and it showed), and certainly no complaints could be made about the good taste of the evening’s organizers.
But something was wrong. As Dirk understood it, these get-togethers were arranged so the local power brokers could have the chance to court the favor of the Candidates, and vice-versa. But this wasn’t happening. The vintners were polite, but tight lipped. Not only did they make no attempt to speak to the Candidates, but they resisted attempts to become acquainted. Their replies to the Candidates’ overtures were short, monotone, and unengaging. Their behavior toward the Candidates’ sponsors and other representatives was pretty much the same: their manners were well bred, but uninviting. Dirk wondered why they had bothered to throw the party at all.
The answer was soon given. Once the dessert had been served, the man across from Dirk stood and clapped his hands for attention. “Gentlemen,” he announced, “it is customary to hold some sort of reception when Candidates for Chairman arrive at an election venue. We trust that we have fulfilled that obligation satisfactorily. And now, if you will excuse us, we shall leave you to the entertainments that have been provided at our expense.” Without further ceremony, he and the rest of the vintners in attendance left the banquet hall.
The festivities picked up considerably after their departure. The wine flowed freely, and Dirk found himself drinking from a glass that had red liquid in the bottom, and green at the top. “How does it do that?” he asked the girl on his lap. She responded by giggling and smothering him with kisses.
Dirk enjoyed his dinner companion’s attentions, but he was still confused by the behavior of his hosts. He noticed Ray Fleming holding court with maybe a dozen young ladies, and asked him if he knew why the Erstwhilers were acting so strangely.
“I understand that they’re always a little peevish,” Ray said. “It’s because they think that the next Chairman, no matter who he is, is gonna be a tool of their biggest enemy, Acme Space Guys. And I suppose they’re right, with most elections.”
“Then why do they go to all this trouble?”
“Mostly for image. It shows everybody that they’re not ones to be poor sports, or to shirk their responsibilities. It also irritates Acme, because gestures like this keep Erstwhile fair haired in the Senate, and that’s another good reason for doin’ it. Isn’t that right, honey?”
The last question was directed at one of Ray’s new friends, presumably to keep her from feeling neglected. He turned back to Dirk momentarily. “Drink up, old son,” he said. “This is some of the best product you’ll ever taste outside the Cornucopia, and it won’t give you a hangover.”
In a quiet restaurant, Kori and Mara were having a private dinner. They had not attended any of the parties or banquets aboard the Entropia, and they were not sorry to miss the one being held on Erstwhile that evening. As they saw it, carousing was Dirk’s job, not theirs. If he had asked them, they could have told him that the reason the Rainbow wine’s colors did not mix was very slightly different viscosity among the different colors. But this was inconsequential to them, as much of a Candidate’s partying schedule would be.
“Have you arranged the meeting?” Mara asked.
“One week from tomorrow, in the morning.”
“That does not give us much time before the balloting begins.”
“That’s right; it starts two days later.”
Mara paused, thinking. “We can only assume that other factions have arranged for earlier appointments,” she decided.
“That was my impression.”
“This will not strengthen our bargaining position.”
“But it shouldn’t substantially hurt us, either.”
“Really? Why do you say that?”
“Because the vintners surely must realize,” Kori said, “that we are the least likely to sell them out to Acme if such actions become advantageous. We have more reason for hostility with Acme Space Guys than even they do, and we would certainly be the most reliable allies they could choose.”
“If they choose anyone. Remember, child, no Candidate has won a decisive victory in this province in over a century, and there has been no indication, yet, that anyone will do so this year. The fact that we have been scheduled for such a late meeting with the Vintners Association is a clear message to us that we should not rely upon our enmity with Acme to guarantee us alliance with Erstwhile. The vintners may still find greater advantage in backing a stronger Candidate, or they may choose to back no one at all.”
“You don’t believe they’ll want to support a dark horse?”
“Mr Bordeaux is not a dark horse until he scores a victory. Until then, he is merely an alsoran, no matter how well financed.”
“Then we have to hope they like Dirk.”
“We must be certain that our offer is good. They understood that this meeting is to be kept strictly sub rosa?”
“Indeed; it seems they’ve conducted such negotiations before.”
Mara chuckled softly. “Yes,” she remarked, “I imagine they have.”
Dirk awoke the next morning without a headache, as Ray had promised. However, he did have trouble concentrating on any one thought. He also noticed a sensation of weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw a tangle of red hair, and he could not remember how the girl attached to it got there. She stretched and smiled up at him, and he decided that it probably wasn’t important.
They were just beginning to get re-acquainted when the bedroom door opened, and Kori stepped in. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully, “and did you sleep well?”
“Uh—“
“Oh, good. I’m so glad you had a good time last night. And who is your new friend, Dirk?”
“Camille.” Dirk was glad that Camille chose to respond, as he couldn’t have answered that question to save his life. This was the first time he had ever imbibed heavily of recreational beverages, and he decided it would be the last.
“Well, I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you,” Kori continued, dripping honey, “but I’m afraid I must ask you to put on a robe, and let us have a few moments alone, Camille. Candidate Bordeaux and I need to have a teensy conference.
“She seems very nice,” Kori said when they were alone. “You have excellent taste in females.”
Dirk was beginning to be concerned. His short experience had taught him that Betelgeuseans never behaved so sweetly, not even toward their own families. “Is something bothering you?” he asked.
“Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that you don’t seem quite yourself this morning.”
“Attribute it to optimism. Mara and I have been watching the morning news, and we’ve just heard something very encouraging.”
“What’s that?”
“You were one of the standouts at last night’s banquet—quite the life of the party, in fact.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed—“
“No, that’s good. A macho image is vital to a Candidate; it’s part of his appeal. Mara will arrange for your friend Camille to be seen leaving the suite at a rather late hour, and we’ll hope she won’t be able to keep her pretty little mouth shut. With any luck, your name will be on every voter’s lips by next week.”
“I see.”
Actually, Dirk did not see. Kori’s reply may have explained optimism, but it did not explain behavior that would have embarrassed another Betelgeusean to witness. She might have been making allowances for a member of a less reserved race of people, but Dirk didn’t think it likely. While Kori seemed friendly and intelligent, he couldn’t really imagine her gushing over anything—not until now. Still, he decided not to push the matter; if she was in a bad mood, it would be better to have her gush rather than explode.
“Make yourself ready,” she continued, heading for the door. “We’re scheduled for a sightseeing tour in one hour.”
Mara, seated at a divan with a cup of tea, wore a puzzled frown when her protege emerged from Dirk’s room. “Why are you so upset, child?” she asked.
“Mara, were you eavesdropping?”
“You evade my question.”
“Where’s—Camille?”
“She is eating her breakfast in the dining room. Do you choose not to respond to my inquiry?”
“I don’t know,” Kori said, plopping ungracefully into a chair. “I just find it so offensive.”
“What do you find offensive?”
“The spectacle those fools made last night. And it was thoroughly documented by every major news agency, for everyone to see. And then there’s Camille, and others like her, who allow themselves to be exploited! This is exactly the kind of male chauvinism and superiority we need to oppose—“
“That may be true, but it is a reality we must face, at present. We must not only face it, but accommodate it. As you pointed out, it is vital to Mr Bordeaux’s image. On our present course of action, we cannot begin to effect changes in society before Mr Bordeaux gains office, or at least some notoriety. And he will not do so if he does not deliver that which society expects of him. So we must tolerate attitudes and practices which are offensive to us, and even encourage them in our Candidate—for a time.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“That is your privilege.”
Dirk entered the living room a few minutes later, dressed casually. Camille had already returned from the dining room, and was standing in front of a mirror, brushing her flaming ringlets. Dirk found that he agreed with Kori in at least one respect; he did have good taste in women, even when he was drunk.
“Good morning, Mr Bordeaux,” Mara said, interrupting Dirk’s thoughts. “I trust you slept well?”
“Um—yes.” Dirk was still having a little trouble thinking clearly.
“That is fortunate,” Mara said. “Today, you must look and feel your best. This is the day the foremost citizens of Erstwhile set aside to show their world to the Candidates, and they are proud of their home, Mr Bordeaux. Please try to look suitably impressed.”
“I’ll do my best,” Dirk assured her, feeling slightly cheated. He had hoped this tour would be a chance for him to relax, to get out from under the microscope for a while. He should have known better.
“I am confident that you will. Do not worry about breakfast,” Mara said, as Dirk turned toward the dining room. “I understand that the refreshments served on the tour are excellent.”
“Speaking of which,” Kori interjected, “it’s time for us to be leaving. Say goodbye to Camille, Dirk. We don’t want to be late.”
Dirk waved to Camille. She smiled and waved back, as he followed Kori into the spacious hallway outside their suite. There was a trolley waiting for them, with Oliver and his party already seated. Oliver waved Dirk to a place beside him, and when everyone was aboard, the trolley moved forward on a cushion of air.
“That was a tasty morsel you left the party with last night,” Oliver said approvingly.
“Yeah, but I wish they’d give us a chance to rest up afterwards.”
“What do you think today is?”
“My sponsors tell me that my behavior is going to be very important today,” Dirk said.
“Come again?”
“The Erstwhilers are supposed to be very proud of their world, and I’ve got to look really impressed.”
“Dirk, have you ever been to Erstwhile?”
“No.”
“Well, relax. You aren’t going to have any trouble looking impressed.”
“Really? Why would my sponsors think I would?”
“They’re Betelgeuseans.”
“So?” Dirk asked defensively, feeling a sudden impulse to stand up for his backers.
“They tend to look at things a little differently, that’s all.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“But you think I’ll be all right today?”
“Yes, I do.” Oliver was quite sure of himself, but he wouldn’t say why. Dirk gave up trying to quiz him, and settled back to enjoy the ride.
The trolley turned into an even larger hallway, where there were more trolleys moving guests about, and headed toward the hotel lobby. Dirk noticed that all the windows were opaque and sealed shut, just as the windows in his own suite had been. He wondered about this, but said nothing. He decided that if the reason for it did not presently become clear, it probably wasn’t important.
When they arrived at the lobby, they saw Ray Fleming and his people helping themselves to generous portions from the breakfast buffet. Ray’s party had been among the first guests to arrive, and were now getting second and third helpings. Realizing there would be nothing left if they waited much longer, Dirk and Oliver hurried to get into the line.
“I should have known these country boys would be up early for a free breakfast,” Oliver commented drily. “It’s a trait they all seem to share; I think it comes from smelling too much hay.”
“That’ll be enough from you, Sonny Jim.” Ray didn’t look too offended when he spoke, which was just as well; Oliver didn’t look too intimidated by the larger man anyway.
“Oh. Hi, Ray. We didn’t know you were there,” Oliver lied.
“Tell me another story. In the meantime, if you two urbanites don’t mind being seen with us rustic country folk, I suppose we could make a little room at our table.”
Before Dirk and Oliver could accept the invitation, an intercom voice announced that the Candidates should proceed to the park just outside the hotel front entrance, where the tour would soon begin. Dirk and Oliver reluctantly left the buffet table, only stopping to grab some fruit. Ray followed, carrying his plate so he could get a few more bites before handing it to the bell captain on his way out. They passed under an arch, stepped out into midmorning sunlight, and Dirk saw the rainbows for the first time in his life.
These might not have been rainbows in a technical sense, as there were no clouds in the sky. It wasn’t even humid. But, whatever people chose to call them, they were everywhere. There were giant rainbows, the ends of which were lost in the distance. Some went from hilltop to mountain top. There were small ones, no more than a few feet across. There were rainbows within rainbows. Some crossed each other, forming multicolored domes. Dirk saw one that turned back upon itself, creating an outrageous sculpture. He also noticed one shaft of variegated light that did not bend at all, but rose straight into the sky. The hotel itself stood beneath a very large pyramid-shaped “bow.”
Kori took Dirk’s hand, and led him to a waiting aerobus. He vaguely heard a tour guide saying something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. When everyone was seated aboard the bus, the wings were extended, and they rose into that magical sky.
Dirk did not claim to be a physicist, but he was aware of some things. He knew, for instance, that a rainbow would fade and disappear as an observer approached it, and then reappear when someone was far enough away again. At least, he thought he knew this. But as the bus approached one of the mind-boggling things, it got brighter. As the bus passed by, Dirk felt he could stand on the wing and touch it.
“This is really the best way to view the rainbows,” the tour guide was saying, her voice betraying a hint of local pride. “You see, the truly spectacular ones are found in the upper atmosphere.”
As if in response to the guide’s words, the bus turned toward what looked like a psychedelic mix of a fleur-de-lis and an infinity symbol. It was larger than most of what they had seen on the ground, and Dirk realized they were going to fly through it, not around it. He braced himself, as for a crash, and immediately felt foolish. Then he noticed everyone else doing the same thing. He relaxed slightly, but flinched a bit when the bus penetrated the rainbow.
It was as if they had entered a kaleidoscope. Every color imaginable swirled in front of them, around them, and behind them. Even the tour guide stopped speaking, letting the marvels of her world speak for themselves. As they emerged out the other side, they all exhaled as one, previously unaware they had been holding their collective breath. Everyone except Kori, who was sitting next to Dirk, reading. She seemed unimpressed by the whole experience. Dirk asked her what she thought of it.
“An intriguing scientific puzzle. There really ought to be a government-funded investigation of this atmosphere,” was her answer.
“Huh?”
“Well, think about it, Dirk. Can you explain how a ‘rainbow’ can exist when there doesn’t seem to be enough water in the air to refract the sunlight significantly?”
“No, but—“
“Neither can I. They’re really quite baffling. Did you know, for instance, that these phenomena are permanent fixtures? Our hotel was built under that pyramidal giant before we were born.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“There are a lot of things nobody knows about this place. That’s why studies should be made. The Erstwhilers are a pretty stiff-necked bunch, but maybe they could be persuaded in the name of science—“
“But don’t you find it breathtaking, or awe-inspiring, or at least kind of pretty?”
Kori looked out the window she was seated next to, as if appraising the aesthetics of the scene for the first time. “It is striking,” she admitted.
Dirk leaned back in his seat. Maybe Oliver was right. Maybe his sponsors did have a somewhat different perspective than he was accustomed to. He thought about it as he munched on the snacks provided by the hostess. The food was good, as Mara had promised, and had absolutely no Acme logos on it, unlike the shipboard fare he was growing used to. “Acme’s getting ready to build a new planet from scratch,” Dirk quietly revealed. “Maybe they should try to copy Erstwhile.”
“I’ve heard one or two rumors to that effect,” Kori replied after a moment’s consideration, “but as I understand it, they’re still very much in the theoretical planning stages. They’ve got a long way to go before they can make it happen, unless they’ve kept a lot of technological advances secret. Which, I’ll concede, would not be unusual for them.”
“All the people at work were talking about it a lot, a few weeks ago.”
Kori considered. “Acme Space Guys would still need to know a lot more about this world’s meteorology before attempting to duplicate it,” she decided. “Other planets, possibly; but Erstwhile might be a little ambitious for them just yet.”
While Dirk enjoyed his tasty, refreshing, and wonderfully logo-free food, the bus landed in what looked like a rainbow orchard. Rainbows were arranged in more or less orderly rows for as far as Dirk could see in any direction. As they were standing on the top of the tallest hill in the area when they disembarked, this was an impressive distance. Once again, Dirk was overwhelmed by the beauty of the place. He remembered a coworker telling him about the time Acme Space Guys had tried to repossess the planet in an outrageous legal battle, and how the Erstwhilers had never allowed themselves to become indebted to offworlders again. As he looked around himself now, Dirk could only think what a shame it would have been had Acme won, and he wondered what kind of godless heathens ran Acme Space Guys and the IFSBG.
A tall, well-dressed man approached them from the southern side of the hilltop. He had rugged, handsome features, a moderate tan, and dark eyes that twinkled mischievously. Unlike the political sharks Dirk had encountered aboard the Entropia, this man wore a smile that looked genuine and unaffected. He was one of those people whose appearance did not betray his age; he could be thirty years old, or he could be sixty. Dirk liked him the moment he saw him.
“Honored Candidates,” he began, his voice clear and resonant, “it is a pleasure to see you on this fine morning. My name is Francis Bright, and I’ll be your host for this part of your tour. If you’ll all be good enough to follow me, there are several cars waiting for us at the bottom of the hill. I believe you’ll find them more convenient for a close look at the countryside.”
When he had finished his greeting, Francis Bright turned and began to walk back in the direction from which he had come. Dirk and the others hurried to follow him.
As he led the way down the hill, Mr Bright continued speaking over his shoulder. He never needed to shout to be heard by everyone.
“As those of you from agricultural areas may have guessed, we’re in the middle of one of my orchards. If I had to choose my single favorite property, this would probably be it.”
“Because it produces the most wine?” someone asked.
“No, for its natural beauty,” Mr Bright replied. “Most of the orchard land on the planet had to be torn up and landscaped. This parcel did not.”
“What difference does the landscape make?” another Candidate chimed in. “I mean, the rainbows are everywhere. Why should the ground make a difference?”
“It makes all the difference in the world, if you’re making wine.”
“And how do you make the wine?” Dirk asked.
Everyone stopped, and became silent. Francis Bright turned to face Dirk, the light in his eyes dancing. “Ah,” he said softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. “That would be telling indeed.”
In his own element, Francis Bright was much friendlier that he had been the night before. It took Dirk a while to recognize him as the man he had sat facing, who had delivered the abrupt good-night address. Dirk could not figure how the different setting could work such a change in the man. People were becoming more confusing and unpredictable as the days passed, and Dirk suspected that things would only get worse as the campaign continued.
The cars were much better for seeing the countryside than the larger bus. They flew much closer to the ground, skimming the tops of a few of the rainbows. The cars were roofless, holding just a few people each, and made everyone feel closer to the ground, giving the illusion of natural flight. Dirk almost believed he could launch himself from his seat and fly on his own.
Francis Bright was driving Dirk’s car. He steered toward an especially large rainbow, climbing toward the apex. He slowed as he neared it, and stopped directly at the top. It was exciting to look down, but it made Dirk feel uneasy at the same time. Even though he knew he had gone much higher in the bus, he hadn’t felt the altitude the way he did now. He wanted to look away from the ground, but was unable.
After what seemed an eternity, Mr Bright guided the car down, in a lazy spiral around the farther arm of the rainbow. It was exhilarating, dizzying. It was also a relief to Dirk to escape that confusing place at the top.
A good looking candidate, who had introduced himself as Skip Voyager, sat next to Dirk. Ray and Oliver sat behind them, and did not have much to say. Skip didn’t seem bothered by their silence, though. He had something to say about everything. He marveled at the rainbows, admired the grasses and the beautifully colored flowers, and good-naturedly laughed at Dirk’s momentary stupidity at the top of the tall rainbow. Within an hour, he was treating Dirk like a lifelong friend.
Mr Bright landed the car near the base of the bow, and got out, heading toward some large picnic tables. The other cars landed nearby. Everyone followed Mr Bright.
Dirk noticed several small, colorful mushrooms in the grass near the base of the rainbow. As he looked closer, he saw a lot of them, representing every color of the rainbow. Some were solid, some had stripes or polka dots, and some looked like they were sprinkled with stardust. “What are all these mushrooms for?” he asked.
“They’re a damned nuisance, is what they are,” Mr Bright answered, contemptuously kicking a few of them out of his path. “These mushrooms tend to flourish under the same conditions that produce the best wines, you see. If you get one, you get the other. I guess you could say that the mushrooms are a price we pay for the wine.”
“They don’t look all that inconvenient right now,” Skip remarked.
“This is an unusually dry year. This year’s crop—so to speak—has failed. In a really good growing season, the mushrooms get so large and numerous that we have to use heavy machinery to clear them out of the way.”
The following days passed in much the same way. There were sightseeing tours, picnic lunches, banquets, parties, and a lot of campaigning between meals. Dirk found it all exciting, and discovered that he enjoyed making speeches. He wasn’t sure that he agreed with everything Mara and Kori wrote concerning fairness and equality, but it was stimulating just the same.
Naturally, the Betelgueseans had worded Dirk’s speeches in a manner they hoped would appeal to Erstwhile’s Vintners Association, often called the VA. Only property holders could vote in Orion Province, and Erstwhile’s VA members were among the most powerful proprietors in Orion Province—or anywhere else in the Federation. To obtain the approval of the VA was to win at least twenty five percent of Orion’s electoral votes. Getting so much, so early in the campaign, was almost a guarantee of a Vice Chairmanship at the least.
Unfortunately, with the exception of Francis Bright, the members of the VA did not seem overly impressed with Dirk. Mara and Kori were privately irritated by the VA’s indifference, but were encouraged by the fact that no one else seemed fair haired either. Orion’s decision makers were reserving judgement, and the Betelgueseans knew they had a chance.
Their chance came on the morning of their meeting with the VA’s representatives. Mr Bright was the current president of the association, which was a point in their favor, as he did seem to like Dirk. But Mara had reminded Kori earlier that the title didn’t necessarily mean that was where the real power lay. They knew that they could not depend on Francis to make this meeting a success for them; they had to discover the real decision makers at this meeting, and convince them. Hence, they arrived prepared for battle, having seen Dirk off on yet another tour.
They were shown into a conference room with a large oval table of dark, not quite black, wood. The vintners were already seated, and Francis Bright was among them. They stood as the ladies took their seats, and Mara inclined her head in acknowledgement, smiling faintly.
An elegant butler poured wine of a single color from small decanters. Pale gold it was, and flashes of electric blue made it sparkle. Wealthy men would spend months on a waiting list to obtain a few decanters of Erstwhile’s Gold Label; the most famous of the rainbow wines, the rarest, and the most expensive. The ladies felt the magnitude of the moment, and were no less appreciative as they sipped the legendary product.
“A courteous beginning,” Mara observed, “and something of a surprise. One might almost suppose we are celebrating.”
“Perhaps it will become a celebration,” Mr Bright answered. “What was it you wanted to discuss with us?”
“As you are aware, we are sponsoring a Candidate for Chairman of the Intergalactic Federation of Straight, Butch Guys,” Mara formally replied. “We desire your support.”
“We thought as much,” Francis said. “We can see that our support would be of great benefit to you. What advantages would such an alliance offer us?”
“To begin, ours are the two most influential planets in Orion Province. We certainly cannot guarantee Mr Bordeaux a unanimous Orion victory, but between us, we should at the very least be able to help him to a high position in the new Administration.”
“We can help almost any Candidate gain a high office without your aid,” a fidgety Erstwhiler replied. “What will we gain by an alliance with you specifically?”
“A united front against Acme Space Guys,” Kori said. “Together, we can loosen Acme’s grip on our civilization. For centuries, Acme has held far too much power, using it to strangle political and economic competitors. We have fought a good fight, as have you, but we lose a little ground every year. If we do not cooperate now, while liberal attitudes prevail throughout the Federation, Acme will eventually crush us both.”
Silence reigned for several minutes. Each man at the vintners’ end of the table was thinking hard upon Kori’s words, upon the images those words conjured; disturbing images, which had occurred to them before. Images of days long past, when Acme Space Guys had ruled all known civilization with an iron hand. It had taken a long time to achieve the measure of independence they now enjoyed, and everyone in the room saw the possibility of Acme’s return to absolute dominance. Acme was squeezing out the competition. Slowly but inexorably, Acme was either crushing the life out of every independent business concern, or merging their interests with its own. Finally, Francis broke the silence.
“What you say is true, Ms Lrr-Sahr. But that doesn’t change the fact that Acme will continue to wield a great deal of financial and political influence in the IFSBG, no matter how much opposition they face. Almost a juggernaut influence. Even united, we must eventually bargain with Acme Space Guys.”
Once again, Mara smiled her slow, enigmatic smile. She knew the effect a predator’s smile had upon humans, and was not above using it. “It is always preferable to negotiate from a position of strength,” she said.
“But how much strength?”
The question caused every vintner’s head to turn toward the man who asked it. He was old and distinguished, and very well dressed. He had not spoken until now.
“You speak of strength,” he went on, “but you have yet to be specific. Quite frankly, Ms Sakh, I am concerned with numbers right now. Yours is a matriarchal race, and therefore unable to vote in a general IFSBG election. In terms of voting, it’s almost as if your planet doesn’t exist. Everyone we have met can offer substantial voter support, except you. Granted, the people here seem to like Mr Bordeaux very much, but the general public does not vote in Orion Province; only male property holders.
“At present, you have only your economic strength to use against Acme. We know that your wealth is great, and we suspect that you have made secret alliances with powerful business groups. But we don’t know how much of your strength you’re willing to commit to a fight. Believe me, Acme can make the going brutal for its opponents, and we would hate to find our new allies squeamish. Just how strong is your resolve to fight, and prevail?”
Mara was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke, softly but clearly. “A campaign fund has been established for Mr Bordeaux. It is administered by us, of course. Several of our front business groups stand by to fund it. Will an initial contribution of five hundred trillion Solarian dollars indicate a sufficient level of resolve?”
There was absolute silence in the room once more. Everyone, even Kori, was stunned by the figure. No one had an answer to Mara’s question.
“Gentlemen, let me be understood,” Mara continued. “My people’s resentment for Acme runs deep. Unable to deal openly with allies and opponents alike, we have, for several lifetimes, been reduced to back room—often black market—dealings. We do not appreciate it. But we have been able to build significant wealth, and we have nothing better to do with it. My sisters have given me carte blanche, and I intend to use it to change the very nature of the society in which we live. Do you wish to have a hand in that change?”
The distinguished gentleman raised his glass of Erstwhile Gold Label. “Madame,” he said, “I believe Mr Bordeaux has won the support of the Vintners Association of Erstwhile.”