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“Where should I have them delivered, then?”

“Into her laboratory. That’s more or less where she lives. And let’s turn up the heat on those bouquets — move off the pansies and zinnias, and right into tuberoses.”

Lana was shocked. “Not tuberoses already!”

“Well, you know what I mean. Also, we’re going to start feeding her soon. She doesn’t eat properly — I can tell that. And later, we’ll style her and dress her. But we’ll have to work our way up to that.”

“How are we even supposed to reach her? Dr. Penninger works inside the Hot Zone,” Lana said. “That’s a full-scale Code 4 bio-hazard facility. It’s got its own airlocks, and the walls are eight feet thick.”

He shrugged. “Dip the flowers into liquid nitrogen. Get ’em sealed in plastic. Whatever.”

His secretary groaned. “Oscar, what is it with you? Have you lost your mind? You can’t really be making a play for that woman. I know your type really well by now, and she’s definitely not your type. In fact, I’ve asked around some — and Dr. Penninger is not anybody’s type. You’re gonna do yourself an injury.”

“Okay, maybe I have a sudden aberrant sweet tooth.”

Lana was genuinely pained. She wanted the best for him. She was quite humorless, but she was very efficient. “You shouldn’t act like this. It’s just not smart. She’s on the board of directors, she’s someone who’s officially in charge around here. And you’re a staffer for her Senate oversight committee. That’s a definite conflict of inter-est. ”

“I don’t care.”

Lana was in despair. “You’re always doing this. Why? I can’t believe you got away with shacking up with that journalist. She was covering the campaign! Somebody could have maqe a huge ethics stink about that. And before that, there was that Crazy architecture girl… and before that, there was that worthless Boston city man-agement girl… You can’t keep getting away with this, cutting things close this way. It’s like some kind of compulsion.”

“Look, Lana, you knew my romantic life was a problem as soon as you met me. I do have ethics. I draw the line at having an affair with anyone in my own krewe. All right? That would be bad, that would be workplace harassment, it’s like incest. But here I am, and what’s past is past. Greta Penninger has made her career here, she’s someone who really understands this facility. Plus, she’s very bored, and I know that I can get to her. So we have commonalities. I think we can help each other out.”

“I give up! I’ll never figure out men. You don’t even know what you want, do you? You wouldn’t know what to do with happiness if it was standing right in front of you, begging you to notice.”

Lana had gone too far now. Oscar assembled and aimed a scowl at her. “Look, Lana, when you find me some happiness that you know will really suit me — me, in particular — then write me a memo about it. All right? In the meantime, can you get off the dime with the flowers effort?”

“All right, I’ll try,” she said. “I’ll do my best.” Lana was angry with him now, so she stalked off into the gardens. He couldn’t help that. Lana would come around. Lana always did. Dealing with him took her mind off her own troubles. Oscar strolled on, whistling a bit, examining the fretted dome of the sky, an evil winter skein of gray scudding harmlessly above the sweet federal bubble of warm and fra-grant air. He tossed his hat in his hand, catching it by its sharp and perfect brim. Life was definitely looking up for him. He skirted a blooming mass of rare azaleas in order to miss a drowsing antelope.

He’d chosen these Collaboratory gardens as his confidential of-fices lately. He’d given up using the Bambakias tour bus, since the bus seemed to attract so many determined bugging efforts. They would have to return the bus to Boston soon, anyway. That seemed just as well — high time, really. There was no use in remaining dependent on loaned equipment. Scratch the old bus, inhabit the brand-new hotel. Just keep the krewe together, keep up the core competencies. Keep the herd moving. It was progress, it was doable.

Fontenot emerged from the flowering brush and discovered him. To Oscar’s mild surprise, Fontenot was exactly on schedule. Apparently the roadblock situation was easing in Louisiana.

The security man was wearing a straw hat, vest, jeans, and black gum boots. Fontenot had been getting a lot of sun lately. He looked more pleased with himself than Oscar had ever seen him.

They shook hands, checked by habit for tails and eavesdroppers, and fell into pace together.

“You’re getting a lot of credit for this Air Force base debacle,” Fontenot told him. “Somehow, it’s staying news. If the pressure keeps building, something’s bound to crack.”

“Oh, giving me the credit for that is all Sosik’s idea. It’s a fallback position for the Senator. If the situation blows a valve, then the experienced chief of staff can always make a fall guy out of the rash young campaign adviser.”

Fontenot looked at him skeptically. “Well, I didn’t see ’em twist-ing your arm when you did those two major interviews… I don’t know how you found the time to get so fully briefed on power black-outs and Louisiana politics.”

“Power blackouts are a very interesting topic. The Boston media are important. I’m very sentimental about the Boston media.” Oscar laced his hands behind his back. “I admit, it wasn’t tactful to publicly call Louisiana ‘the Weird Sister of American States.’ But it’s a truism.”

Fontenot couldn’t be bothered to deny this. “Oscar, I’ve been pretty busy getting my new house set up properly. But proper security isn’t a part-time job. You’re still paying me a salary, but I’ve been letting you down.”

“If that bothers you, why not put in a little work on the hotel site for us? It’s a big hit locally. These Buna people love us for it.”

“No, listen. Since we’ll s — I thought I’d run some full-scale secu-rity scans for you, across the board. And I’ve got some results for you. You have a security problem.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve offended the Governor of Louisiana.”

Oscar shook his head rapidly. “Look, the hunger strike isn’t about Governor Huguelet. Huguelet has never been the issue. The issue is the starving air base and the federal Emergency committees. We’ve scarcely said a word in public about Green Huey.”

“The Senator hasn’t. But you sure have. Repeatedly.”

Oscar shrugged. “Okay, obviously we haven’t much use for the Governor. The guy’s a crooked demagogue. But we’re not pushing that. As far as the scandal goes, if anything, we’re Huey’s tactical allies at the moment.”

“Don’t be naive. Green Huey doesn’t think the way you guys think. He’s not some go-along get-along pol, who makes tactical deals with the opposition. Huey is always the center of Huey’s universe. So you’re for him, or you’re agin him.”

“Why would Huey make unnecessary enemies? That’s just not smart politics.”

“Huey does make enemies. He enjoys it. It’s part of his game. It always has been. Huey’s a smart pol all right, but he can be a one-man goon squad. He learned that when he worked in Texas for Senator Dougal.”

Oscar frowned. “Look, Dougal’s out of the picture now. He’s finished, history. If Dougal wasn’t in the dry-out clinic, he’d probably be in jail.”

Fontenot glanced around them with reflexive suspicion. “You shouldn’t talk like an attack ad when you’re standing inside a place that Dougal built. This lab was always Dougal’s favorite project. And as for Huey, he used to work in here. You’re walking in Huey’s footsteps. When he was the Senator’s chief of staff, he twisted arms around here hard enough to break a few.”