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"Your point?"
"The legal team worries that his lawyers might evoke salvage law and claim that he is entitled to a percentage of anything taken from the ship."
"Ah, the lawyers. Yes. We can't forget them. Those wonderful, endearing lawyers. And I suppose the same could be said for other members of my strike team. Mazer Rackham, the MOPs..."
"They would have to sign release forms that absolve them of any rights of ownership."
Lem laughed and shook his head. "Welcome to the team, boys. Please sign these forms that will make us rich and not you."
Ramdakan looked irritated. "You act like you're not a member of the team here, Lem. I remind you, this is a Juke Limited operation. You may have spearheaded the whole effort, but you've done so as an employee of this company using employee resources." He pointed to the door. "Those coffins out there are the property of this company, not you."
"They're cocoons," said Lem. "Calling them coffins is bad luck. I'm going to have to ask you to throw salt over your right shoulder a few times. Or is it your left shoulder? I can never remember."
Ramdakan grit his teeth. "I'm glad you find this all amusing, Lem, but remember who is calling the shots here."
"Let me guess, it's not me."
"The Board. And frankly we're not thrilled with the idea of Victor Delgado or Imala Bootstamp having any part in this operation whatsoever."
"Is that so?"
"Who's liable if something happens to them, Lem? The company? There's a ride through judicial hell. That's the last thing we need."
Lem was suddenly angry. "Wrong, Norja. The last thing we need are Formics spraying us in the face with their little wands and melting the flesh off our bones. Which is precisely what will happen if we don't destroy that ship, which we are going to do with Victor and Imala. So unless you have another item of business, I'll excuse you to get back to the nice side of Luna."
"You don't want me as an enemy, Lem."
"No, I want you as an absent friend. Are we done here?"
"If you won't budge on Victor, I'm told not to push the matter. But you must at least have a Juke engineer with the strike team. Someone who can assess the tech there before the attack."
"There are only twelve cocoons, Norja. If I give up one, I lose a MOP."
"Then postpone and make more."
"We're not postponing."
"Then make room for an engineer."
"Fine. I'll ask Dr. Benyawe."
Ramdakan laughed. "Benyawe? She's what, in her sixties?"
"You never ask a woman her age, Norja. Don't you know that's bad manners?"
"You can't be serious."
"She's the best engineer on staff, and I trust her more than I trust myself. I don't know why I didn't think of her before. She could be a great help to Victor."
"She's not physically capable."
"We won't be tossing around bundles of hay, Norja. She will observe and record and document and consult. And she stays surprisingly fit. She could run you into the ground, I suspect."
"The Board won't like this."
"That tears me up inside, Norja. Really it does. Hopefully I can make it up to the Board by dropping the most valuable tech the world has ever seen into the company's lap." He stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have preparations to make."
He crossed to the door and opened it. Norja reluctantly got to his feet. Lem escorted him out of the building to make sure he was gone. It wasn't until Lem had returned to the warehouse that he saw the vid crew. Two cameramen, with big lights on their shoulders were filming a worker, who was being interviewed by Unna, the Danish reporter with short pink hair who had interviewed Lem in his apartment. She wore a tight blue jumpsuit this time, with just as much skin exposed.
