Free Alex Benedict 07 - Coming Home by Jack McDevitt Page B

the call.”
    I wanted to tell her there’s always a level of uncertainty. In everything. Nothing’s a hundred percent in life. But I kept my mouth shut.
    Her eyes darkened. “The stakes are too high.”

SEVEN
     
Solitude is okay, as long as you have a friend to share it with.
     
—Agathe Lawless,
Sunset Musings
, 9417 C.E.
     
    Linda Talbott had been a special client because she had also lost someone on the
Capella
. Her husband, George, had been a talented novelist. He’d written narratives centered on politics and religion, had won some major awards, and had been a rising star in serious fiction when he boarded the cruise liner eleven years earlier. He was from Dellaconda originally, and, Linda had told me, he’d been an admirer of Margaret Weinstein, its president at the beginning of the century. Weinstein had captured his attention by pushing a term-limits bill through an antagonistic legislature. After that, according to the common wisdom, the universe had grown brighter. Government on Dellaconda had become more straightforward, and, significantly, similar bills had been passed or were periodically being introduced throughout the Confederacy. That achievement alone had raised her to the front rank of Dellacondan presidents and should have ended with her becoming chief executive of the Confederacy. It didn’t happen, of course. She shared a characteristic with Kolchevsky: She tended to say what she thought. She’d gotten away with it while rising to the top on Dellaconda, but there was no way she could have disregarded politics the way she did and become the Confederacy’s chief executive.
    Consequently, when Weinstein’s chair became available, I contacted Linda. It would command a steep price, but she had resources. She and her husband had a palatial residence along the coast in Ocean Gate, a kilometer north of Andiquar. And they owned an asteroid home. It was the place, she’d told me, they always retreated to when George was making the final pass through his current novel.
    “I just thought,” I told her as we sat in the Hillside, “you might be interested.”
    “Interested?” She almost squealed. “Oh, yes. How much?”
    “They’re still bidding on it,” I said. “But I can connect you with Alex. Let him know how much you’re willing to go. He’ll take it from there. And get you the best price he can.”
    “I’d love,” she said, “to have it sitting in the middle of our living room when George walks in.”
    “It’s pretty valuable. I’m not sure you’d want to have it where your cats could chew on it.”
    “Oh,” she said, “I wouldn’t put it here. I’d take it out to Momma. By the way, would you and Alex be able to arrange delivery? At my expense, of course.”
    “Of course. You’re going to give it to your mother?”
    “
Momma’s
our asteroid.”
    “Oh.”
    “I could explain it, but you’d need an hour or so.”
    I laughed. “I’ll tell Alex you’re interested.”
    *   *   *
     
    They delivered the chair to us a few days later. We put it in the conference room. I was disappointed by its general appearance. It was in decent condition. But it was mostly black faux leather, and there were some scratches. But it looked comfortable, and maybe that was all that mattered. “What do you think?” Alex asked me.
    “How much is she paying for it?”
    “Three quarters of a million.”
    “That seems like a lot of money for a chair that looks so ordinary.”
    “That’s what pumps up the value, Chase,” he said. “This was where she sat when she changed Confederate politics.” He was obviously pleased with himself. “It’s actually a good buy.”
    “I’m glad to hear it.”
    He made no effort to hide his disappointment at my attitude. “When’s Linda coming?”
    “She said she’d be here this morning.”
    “Okay. I have to go out for a while. If she comes while I’m gone, congratulate her for me. And have her sign the documents. Morris Delivery will pick