He leaned on his forearms, glancing from face to face. “So, now that the waiting and wonder is over, we’re alive. Headed to Donovan orbit. The game is changed. As much as I’ve enjoyed the sparring and repartee for the last nineteen months, my review of the situation on the ground is that we need to formulate a plan of action. The Corporation’s success has depended upon the unity of the Board. The families might have their differences, but ultimately, those concerns must be set aside in order to ensure more pragmatic concerns when it comes to neutering threats and maintaining control of Corporate assets.”

Chad said, “We checked with com. Still no reply from Board Supervisor Aguila. After waiting out this damnable radio lag, her com officer, O’Hanley, says the Supervisor has been appraised of our communication and will be in touch upon her return from the south.”

“What does that mean?” Bart wondered, leaning back in a pose similar to Falise’s and stroking his chin. “The south?”

Chad shifted his amber eyes in Falise’s direction. “Is that some sort of code? Something you’ve been privy to?”

Falise shook her head. “As nice as it would be to have an inside track, and as much as you’d like to believe that Taglionis are way ahead of you in the game, I’m as much in the dark as you are.” She pointed at the holo of the planet spinning above the table. “I’ve read the same reports that you have. I’m privy to the same information, right down to Dan Wirth and what he means to the family.”

Bart’s gaze bored into her hers. “Let’s just say that he’s a major source of interest to all of us. You’ve met him. Looked him in the eyes. Taken his measure. What’s his role in all of this? What does he give the Taglionis?”

She let loose of her ankle and extended her leg, pointed at the coffee pot and sat forward. As Chad poured a cup for her, she said, “What does he give us? A headache. I’ll tell you what I know. And all I know, because I think it might be critical to our success here. The man I met is a sleazy piece of work that comes across as a common a street thug. I’d call him a psychopath, but that’s without having a professional diagnosis.”

“Why did your brother send him back? And with all that clap-trapping wealth? Word is that just the rhodium in his possession, alone, could bankrupt one of the noble houses. And that’s before calculating the value of the gems and other precious metals.” Cinque wondered, “A street thug? Really?”