"I'm afraid there's not much honor to be had here; I'm calling you to beg a favor." Thurmond spun his chair to face the window. The last of the day's sun was filtering in over the mountains and through the clouds. Besides the sunset, there wasn't much to see. Administrators, even one with as much influence as Nat, didn't get better views than their underlings.

"I figured you'd be happy to oblige; after all, I did put your man on the moon. This shouldn't be as much trouble to go through as a rocket launch. You still on the line?"

Nat turned back to his desk, careful to spin back the way he did before. His desk was littered with folders, envelopes, and loose documents. He skimmed over the headers and bullet points. Most were related to the corporation directly, while others were information that may be have been stolen: satellite photos of the north; intel on spy operations in Sañira and the Badlands; info on a nuke in the Flats. Here and there, a portfolio of an expatriate scientist lay. The Chairman was doing his homework.