“Yes sir,” came the immediate response.
“Contact Mr. Crass and tell him I want M3366.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Then call the five lieutenants up to my study at once, please. Get Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner also. Once you’ve called them, come up yourself.” Gene nodded and activated the personal contact codes of the men Zimbardo wanted to see.
A quarter of an hour later, the ten men were in the lounge in Zimbardo’s quarters. He was playing host, and pouring out a dark golden sherry wine into luxurious spun glass goblets.
One of the men lifted up the goblet so the illumination reflected from it, highlighting subtle rainbow whorls in the surface. He swirled his wine before he sipped it.
“Very nice, Lurton, and the glass here is pretty top stuff.”
“The wine came from Earth but the glassware came with the asteroid, Jeff. This place has so much in it that I haven’t found a hundredth of what it contains, but all of it is high quality.”
The men relaxed in the comfortable chairs. The chairs automatically adjusted to the body weight and shape of whoever sat in them. Soft, almost imperceptible music was playing in the background. A light fragrance in the air eased tensions and sharpened minds for thought. Zimbardo had nothing to do with creating this atmosphere—these features came on automatically whenever anyone entered the room.
“Petty soft life you got here, Zimbardo,” sighed the man named Lorry, easing himself down into his chair. “I’m not used to this kind of comfort.”