18

A mistake had been made. Curtis understood that, now; he’d made a second mistake, while trying to adjust for the first. And both mistakes came down to the same error of judgment. He had gauged George Manville too poorly, dismissing him as just an engineer, which was certainly true, but without stopping to think what that meant.

Yes, Manville was just an engineer, and what that meant was, he had too much integrity and too little imagination. Dangle ten million in front of him—in gold, George, in gold!—and he hasn’t the wit to be seduced by it. First he has to take responsibility for the accident to the diver, a responsibility that was never for a second his, but which he assumed for himself simply because he was the project’s engineer. That unbidden, unasked-for scrupulousness leads him to learn the truth about the diver, which makes him a threat to Richard Curtis, to which Curtis responds by making mistake number two. Not taking time to judge his man, he tries to enlist Manville on his side, and tells him too much.

Before this, Curtis had once or twice wondered, if there were unexpected complications down the line, whether or not he’d be able to recruit Manville, and had guessed that a combination of cupidity and the engineering challenge would turn the trick, but now he knew he’d been wrong. Manville was too blunt-minded to be affected by cupidity, and his engineer’s honor would keep him from being caught up by the engineer’s challenge. If he could balk at finishing off one half-dead idiotic girl, how would he react to what was going to happen to all those people in the buildings?

No, Manville could never have been an ally, and now he’s become a danger, a bigger danger than the girl, who was merely a club to beat Jerry Diedrich with. And Manville was now an even bigger danger than Diedrich, because Curtis had told him far too much.

The both of them, Curtis thought, and considered the personnel available to him in Australia, and saw how it could be done. The both of them, when they landed at Brisbane.

Curtis spent the late morning in his cabin, on the telephone to Brisbane and Townsville, looking for the people he needed, assuring himself they would be in the right places at the right time. He couldn’t say very much over the phone—there was no security on these things, particularly the ones that bounced off satellites—but he could at least get them in position, so he could tell them in person, and very quietly, what was needed.

Content with the moves he’d made, pleased that at last the mistakes had come to an end, Curtis went aft to the dining room for the farewell lunch with his three money people. Manville was there, looking worried and uncertain, and Curtis went out of his way to be friendly, to reassure the man. Patting Manville on the arm, being his heartiest, he said, “Forgotten, George. Don’t worry about it. I don’t know what I was thinking before. Desperation, I suppose. I’ll find some other way to deal with my problems, and you’re still my man. All right?”

Manville was obviously surprised, then grateful. Of course, the man without imagination wanted to believe that everything could be all right, that simply, that easily. “Thank you, Mr. Curtis,” he said, answering Curtis’s smile with his own tentative grin. “I am sorry, the situation you’re in, and you can count on me to keep my mouth shut.”

“I know I can, George. I don’t have the slightest doubt.” And, with another pat on the dead man’s arm, Curtis turned to the other three, saying, “Good news. It turns out, I was told wrong. The diver isn’t dead, she’s still alive.”

Beaming at everyone as they expressed their own surprise and pleasure, Curtis said, “We only hope we can keep her that way. Don’t we, George?”