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He slid his hand around her waist. "Where's the painfully shy girl I saw in my father's office a few weeks ago?"
She came in close. "All grown up."
He kissed her. It was a dumb thing to do. He had already decided not to see her again. Father was right on that point: She was a distraction, particularly now, when he was so focused on the mission at hand. He had planned in his mind how to break it to her gently--and now here he was, pulling her body tight against his, kissing her mouth, the line of her jaw, the top of her neck--
The door opened. A woman's voice. "Oh."
Lem broke away. Imala was standing in the doorway. "Sorry. I didn't know I would be interrupting."
Lem took a step to his right, brushed the front of his shirt. His face felt hot. "You didn't, you're not. Ms. Crutchfield here was merely bringing me some information."
Imala was grinning. "That looked like quite the exchange of information."
Lem ran a hand through his hair. "Is there something you wanted, Ms. Bootstamp?"
"Captain Wit O'Toole of the Mobile Operations Police is on the line. He wants to talk."
"Good. I'll join you in a moment."
Imala left and shut the door.
"I'm sorry," said Des. "You're right. I shouldn't have come. That was dumb."
Lem adjusted the cuffs on his shirt and ran a hand through his hair again. He didn't look at her. "Everyone's going to be watching the office door now. Don't come out when I do. Slip away a minute or so later when everyone's focused on the holo."
She nodded. "Right. And I won't come again."
No, thought Lem, you won't. You won't come near me at all. This is over. But aloud he said. "Tell my father I'll review the files."
"He only wants to help however he can, Lem. I don't think he's as maniacal and sinister as you think he is. At least, I haven't seen that side of him."
"Try living with him for thirty years."
She took his hand. "You want the MOPs, Lem. Do whatever you can to make it happen. These thugs here on the wall aren't a backup plan. They can't deliver like MOPs can."
He laughed. "What makes you an expert?"
"I'm not. Everybody who follows the news knows what the MOPs are. They blew up the lander. They brokered the alliance with India. They've taken down almost as many transports as the entire Chinese military. They're very good at what they do."
"They've always been my first choice."
"They're your only choice. They're white knights. These guys"--she gestured to the wall--"freelancers. They work for whoever has the fattest purse. No ethics, no scruples, they're in it for the money and the thrill of the kill. You need people who can think like Victor and remain faithful like Imala. That's MOPs."
"So you're my counselor now?"
"No. I don't presume to be anything, except a friend who wants to see you succeed."
He pulled his hand away and moved for the door.
"And Lem..."
He turned back.
"I know nothing will ever happen between us. I know that. I'm not naive enough to think otherwise. All I ask is that when you tire of me, whenever that is, you're nice about it."
After a silence, he nodded once and said, "I better go."
Then he walked out.
