“Yeah,” I told him. I glared at him. “Thanks.” With a touch of spite—or maybe more than a touch—I thought, well, my bucko, you don’t get the job, or that message would have said so; they’re sending a replacement on the next shuttle of the Ark.
But I didn’t say that; the veneer of civilization was too thick. I said, “Miss Witt, I’d like you to meet—” They looked at each other and started to laugh, and I remembered. Of course, Reagan and Michaelina had both been in my botany class, as had Michaelina’s twin brother, Ichabod. Only, of course, no one ever called the red-headed twins Michaelina and Ichahod. It was Mike and Ike, once you knew them.
Reagan said, “I met Mike getting off the Ark. I told her how to find your office since you weren’t there to do the honors.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Did the reinforcing bars come?”
“Guess so. They unloaded some crates. They were in a hurry to pull out again. They’ve gone.”
I grunted.
Reagan said, “Well, I’ll check the ladings. Just came to give you the radiotype; thought you’d want the good news right away.”
He went out, and I glared after him. The louse. The—Michaelina said, “Am I to start to work right away, Mr. Rand?”
I straightened out my face and managed a smile. “Of course not,” I told her. “You’ll want to look around the place, first. See the scenery and get acclimated. Want to stroll into the village for a drink?”
“Of course.”