“Says who?” Dan said.
“It was part of the deal—they knew that they were probationary members right from the start. They weren’t even allowed into the design meetings.”
“Looks like they took themselves off probation,” he said.
Suneep gave us both a chilly look when we entered his lab. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hands shook with exhaustion. He seemed to be holding himself erect with nothing more than raw anger.
“So much for building without interference,” he said. “We agreed that this project wouldn’t change midway through. Now it has, and I’ve got other commitments that I’m going to have to cancel because this is going off-schedule.”
I made soothing apologetic gestures with my hands. “Suneep, believe me, I’m just as upset about this as you are. We don’t like this one little bit.”
He harrumphed. “We had a deal, Julius,” he said, hotly. “I would do the rehab for you and you would keep the ad-hocs off my back. I’ve been holding up my end of the bargain, but where the hell have you been? If they replan the rehab now, I’ll have to go along with them. I can’t just leave the Mansion half-done—they’ll murder me.”
The kernel of a plan formed in my mind. “Suneep, we don’t like the new rehab plan, and we’re going to stop it. You can help. Just stonewall them—tell them they’ll have to find other Imagineering support if they want to go through with it, that you’re booked solid.”
Dan gave me one of his long, considering looks, then nodded a minute approval. “Yeah,” he drawled. “That’ll help all right. Just tell ’em that they’re welcome to make any changes they want to the plan, if they can find someone else to execute them.”
Suneep looked unhappy. “Fine—so then they go and find someone else to do it, and that person gets all the credit for the work my team’s done so far. I just flush my time down the toilet.”