"Whose? Another crewmember?"
"Another ship. Free miners. They came to me and asked us to help."
"In that case, you will say that you were in contact with another ship, and that 'we decided to attack the Formics.' They couldn't have done it without you, so you should give yourself more credit."
"There was a third ship as well," said Lem. "A WU-HU vessel."
Simona's face soured. "Were they in the fight?"
"Not technically. They stayed back with the women and children."
She nodded, considering this. "All WU-HU ships have been grounded to the Belt, so it doesn't matter anyway. Don't mention WU-HU. Say 'another mining vessel' if you have to. Or don't mention them at all."
"In other words, don't mention a competitor."
"The PR and legal teams have to vet the interview before it goes out, Lem. So if you said WU-HU, we'd cut it anyway. Let's save the audio engineers some overtime and keep it simple. When Chen asks you why you rushed back from the Kuiper Belt, your response is that you returned to deliver this proprietary device back to Juke. You believe this device can help in the war effort. Maybe even end the war."
Lem pushed the powder brush out of his face, and the makeup lady backed off. Lem got out of the chair. "Is that what this is about? Is that why father had all the fanfare at my homecoming? The media and the screaming Lem fans and the big phony embrace? To put me in the spotlight so I could be the pitchman for his damn glaser?"
He yanked the bib off his neck, tossed it aside, and was out the door, moving fast down the corridor in the direction Father's shuttle had been heading.
Simona was practically running to keep up. "Wait. Where are you going?"
"To have a word with dear sweet Dad."
"He's in a meeting."
"Where?"
"Will you stop for a moment and let me talk to you?"
"Where's the meeting?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Then I'll find someone who will." He kept walking, looking up and down each corridor he passed, desperate for a passerby.
"No, you won't," said Simona. "None of the people in this wing know where your father is. And even if they did, all I would have to do is send a universal text to them, which takes all of two seconds, and no one would talk to you. They'd clam up."
"Yes. More of Father's obedient little sheep. Just like you."
"Will you stop for a second? I can't run in this skirt."
He stopped and spun around. She ran into him and dropped her holopad, which hit the floor but didn't break. Lem bent down and picked it up immediately to look at the schedule, but the screen went dark as soon as he touched it. He tapped it, but nothing happened.
"It won't respond to your touch," Simona said, yanking it out of his hand. "Biometric security." She tucked it under her arm, brushed a stray hair back, and said, "What is your problem?"
"My problem is that my father thinks he can use me in his little war-profiteering effort. And I've got news for him: I am not playing along."
"What are you talking about?"
"The glaser! He wants to use the glaser in the war."
"And that's a crime because..."
"I am not going to sell the glaser to the Chinese. Or to the Russians. Or to whomever it is Father wants me to pitch it to. I know what he's doing. This is classic Father. He fed the reporters my story of how I took on the Formics in the Kuiper Belt to make me out as a hero. He's trying to boost public opinion of me so he can use me to sell the glaser. He's doesn't want a son. He wants a celebrity endorsement. And you know what? You know what the saddest part of that whole scenario is? I actually fell for it. For a fleeting moment I actually entertained the idea that those misty eyes of his at the terminal were real. Which is ridiculous. He arranged the whole thing. It was a performance. A fabrication. He set the stage. He brought in the audience. He called action."
"Let me get this straight," said Simona. "You're the celebrity of a celebrity endorsement?"