Page 87 of Artemis

“How much?”

Well, shit. I guess the conversation was going to happen right then. “A million slugs.”

“Holy shit!” said Dale. “A million slugs?!”

; I ignored him. “But I don’t have any way to prove it, you’ve got no reason to take my word.”

“Your word’s good enough,” she said. “Dad always said you were the most honest businessman he’d ever worked with. I’ll transfer the money today.”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t deliver. The job was to stop Sanchez’s oxygen production. If you want, you can pay me after I do that. But you know this isn’t about money now, right?”

“I know. But a deal’s a deal.”

“Billy!” said Dale. “All my drinks are on Jazz from now on! She’s a millionaire!”

“Right now I’m a thousandaire at best,” I said. “Buy your own drinks.”

Dale and I had another couple of beers and Lene fiddled with her Gizmo. It would be a long time before her life had normalcy, but at least for the moment she got to be a teenage girl glued to her phone.

Bob Lewis showed up at exactly ten a.m.

“Bob,” I said.

“Jazz,” he said.

“Beer?”

“No.”

He sat across from Lene at her table and said nothing further. Marines know how to wait.

Svoboda came in next, carrying a box of electronics. He waved and started setting up. The damn fool had brought a digital projector and roll-up screen. He connected his Gizmo and, as usual with technology, it didn’t work. Unfazed, he twiddled settings. Happy as a pig in shit.

One person had yet to arrive. I stared at the door, getting more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by. “What time is it?” I asked the room in general.

Lene checked her wristwatch. “Ten thirteen a.m….and there’s currently a half-Earth, by the way. It’s waxing.”

“Good to know,” I said.

Finally, the door opened and the last guest stepped in. He scanned the bar until his eyes landed on me.

I slid my beer glass away. I never drank in front of him.

“Hi, Mr. Bashara,” said Lene.

Dad walked over to her and took her hand. “Miss Landvik. I was so sorry to hear about your father. I wept when I heard.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s been hard. But I’m getting better.”

Bob stood. “Ammar. Good to see you.”

“And you. How’s that rover hatch holding up?”

“Perfectly. Hasn’t leaked at all.”

“Glad to hear it.”