“It is not a place, Governor. Tazi is from the ancient tongue. It translates loosely to ‘fresh.’”
“Oh, I see. I know you’re a farmer, so I assume you’ll be focusing on natural foods. Fruits, berries, and such.”
Talman nodded.
“We have farmed the same land for twelve generations. The quality of our harvest is known across Riyadh. My children convinced me it was time we share in a place where everyone might visit.”
“I’m all for anything that’s not from a kiosk.”
Talman snapped his fingers, and his daughter reacted.
“Show the Governor our menu.”
Reema illuminated a dataflick and graciously pushed it to Trevor.
“We have conservative offerings at a fair price,” she said. “Everything we serve is imported fresh from our farms.”
Six dishes looked spectacular but also bore prices subject to high tariffs. ‘Fair deal’ might have been stretching it, especially for Trevor, who held tight to his UCVs.
“You will definitely make an impression. I don’t think there’s another menu like this in Haven.”
Rep. Malla stepped in.
“Perhaps the Governor would like to place the first order?”
OK. More than he expected. Why not? Andreas, keeping his distance, nodded with a healthy grin. His ‘so far, so good’ signal.
They led Trevor inside for a brief tour. A third child, Aswan, took Trevor’s order from behind a counter. He went with a salad composed only of fruits he knew. Rep. Malla and someone from her staff remained outside, setting up the red ribbon.
Trevor found a moment for some blunt talk.
“I want you all to know, you’re setting an important precedent. I’m not sure if you’re aware of my backstory – it’s very different from Gov. Murrill. I’ve lived here for twenty years. This station means everything to me. I believe in its mission: It’s a place for people from every member world to feel safe and to prosper.
“You’re taking a huge risk financially. Our quarantine rules on fresh produce are very strict, and the tariffs are outrageous. But I hope you succeed. I also want you to know: If anything – or anyone – becomes a problem, I’ll be here for you. Call my office anytime. I mean it.”
The Talmans gazed at each other and then at Trevor. Sheh Talman seemed perplexed.
“You are the most important man on Amity. Why would you concern yourself with our problems?”
Trevor shrugged. “Why not? This sector is called Haven. I work in a sector called Harmony. Those are more than just names.”
Talman shook his head.
“You misunderstand. When a man of your standing offers direct access, it must come with a price. How many UCVs will you require for us to call your office anytime? Gov. Murrill said he would discuss a fee when we opened. He is gone now.”
Great. That’s why the sonofabitch approved their license.
“There is no price. Murrill tried to shake you down. I’m sorry. No one pays for access to my office. No one.”
Talman extended his hand.
“Thank you, Gov. Stallion. You are not like any government official I have met. I will consider this a good sign.”
The atmosphere lightened into jovial banter as Trevor tasted a bright, splashy blend of cherries, dates, and apples infused by an herbal honey. The ribbon was cut, the first curious customers entered Mazookas Tazi, and Trevor bolted on a rifter for his next engagement. Andreas made notes.
“I’m curious, sir. What did you talk about inside? The tenor of their body language changed for the better.”
Trevor didn’t want to go there, so he massaged his Chief’s ego.
“Just the talking points you fed me. And you were right, Andreas. I am a politician. Don’t know if I’ll be a good one. Time will tell.”
“Follow my guidance, sir. You’ll be revered.”
For now. People might yet see through his facade.
Still, he handled a delicate moment well. He couldn’t wait to tell Shireena over dinner. And that wouldn’t be the only great news to share.
En route to Central, a new message arrived on Trevor’s pom:
“I’m due for leave. Going to take it on Amity. Look for me, bruv.”
Trevor had a smile on his face the rest of the day.
Connor was coming home.
10
TWO DAYS LATER, TREVOR wasn’t thinking about his brother’s imminent return. Connor had yet to provide a date. Trevor also pushed aside his questions about the Enzathi, which had not communicated since it merged with its final fragments. No, this morning required his best game face. His next engagement: The biweekly security confab.
