“No!” Olivia slapped the table with a contemptuous hoof. “Othar is a dreary, dreadful place. It should be a tropical paradise… and we can make it one, with a factory half as good as this. Lightning Dust really knows her shit. She should’ve made it at least to divisional headquarters, maybe even regional. But someone’s got to run the day-to-day.” She leaned back in her chair. “It’s not the hardest thing I’ve done. But it’s important work. It provides a tangible benefit. Most importantly, nobody dies. Forerunner thinks you’re better at those decisions, so by all means. You be governor. I’ll just make the weather. Out there, where it matters.”