“Director Brauman,” he said. “Glad to meet you at last.”
“Governor. It’s an honor. I attended your swearing-in, but somehow we missed each other in the receiving line.”
“I apologize.” He offered an extra-firm handshake to make up for the loss. “Thank you, Andreas.”
His Chief of Staff did not budge.
“Governor,” Brauman said, “I asked Chief Portnois to join us, if that’s suitable to you.”
“Certainly. May I ask why?”
“Andreas was a longtime clerk for the IC. He may be able to offer insight to the mystery I bring before you.”
“A mystery? OK. Fine. Let’s have a seat.”
He offered her a drink, which she refused. She made herself comfortable in a leather chair and surveyed the office décor.
“You may find this hard to believe, Governor, but I’ve never had the honor of entering the great sanctum.”
“Really? You’ve run the AHA for five years. Gov. Murrill never ...”
She waved off the thought.
“Rafe Murrill had no interest in my department. Except for social events, he might have said ten words to me.”
Sounds about right. Asshole.
“Then by all means, let’s correct the oversight. We should schedule regular meetings. Perhaps ... I don’t know ... every thirty or so standard days?”
Her eyes blossomed with obvious surprise.
“That would be lovely. Thank you, Governor.”
“Please. Trevor. Somedays, the honorific feels a bit heavy. Andreas, add Director Brauman to my rotating confabs.”
“Certainly, sir. For how long?”
Brauman jumped in.
“Short. Please. Thirty minutes. Normally, the business of the Housing Authority is mundane.”
“But today is not mundane, I assume?”
Her smile vanished.
“Not today.”
“When you contacted Andreas this morning, you said your matter was urgent.”
She winced at Andreas.
“I wanted to make certain Mr. Portnois scheduled me. To be fair, I’m not sure urgent is the best word. But it is concerning.”
Most department heads, business owners, or diplomats who visited Trevor elevated the drama of their issue. Was she another?
“Please. Explain.”
“Thank you. I should provide context. My department employs fifty-two people. Normal churn keeps us busy. Residential renovations, cleaning assignments, stocking, lease agreements, establishing proper financials, guest reservations. Then there are cross-connnections with other divisions to secure LinkPass IDs and the station-issued pom. It’s a massive affair.
“We’re at our busiest four to six weeks before a major rotation switch. We’ve only just come out of the throes of such a period. We focus ninety percent of our energy on new arrivals. We process departures with a simple checklist. Follow so far?”
Clear enough. How far into the weeds are we headed?
“All good. Continue.”
“With Congress not in session, things are somewhat quiet in Harmony. You may have noticed.”
Trevor laughed. “Yes. I’ve enjoyed the peace. Nothing going on for citizens to protest.”
“The reps are back home campaigning. And they took most of their staffs, as usual.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
She rubbed her hands together as if moisturizing them.
“Your instinct is spot-on. Standard procedure for IC reps, whether between sessions or simply while taking personal time, is to leave their leases in place. Flats in the legislative blocs rarely turn over. If reps lose an election or retire and do not return, it’s custom to transfer the leases to their successors and staff. Cuts our processing by half.”
“Are you about to tell me something changed?”
