text: See part 1 **3** “Clarence! Long time no talk! How are things?” “As good as they can be,” Clarence replied, sliding into a chair in the space elevator’s Earth-based control room and settling himself in front of the monitor that displayed Devon’s beaming face as he floated in the elevator’s zero-G environment. Nothing could dampen Devon’s enthusiasm, not even being stranded tens of thousands of miles above the planet’s surface with his space elevator’s inaugural voyage on the brink of turning into a veritable shit show with the entire world watching. It almost served as a kind of fuel, propelling Devon to new levels of intolerability. “How’s the view?” Clarence asked as he busied himself checking various readouts and displays, anything to avoid looking at Devon’s face. “See for yourself.” Clarence looked up as Devon directed his phone’s camera toward the crawler window at the planet below and then panned across the passengers inside, all of them enjoying the absence of gravity, doing somersaults and bouncing off the walls, playing like little kids. “Everybody say hello!” Devon said. The passengers all stopped to wave and smile at the camera, which eventually came to rest on her. “Hello, Clarence,” Darla said, giving him a small wave, her other hand clutching a plastic squeeze pouch labeled “Martini.” She paused to take a sip. “I take it you got my message.” Clarence lowered his eyes once again. “Indeed, I did.” “We can’t go into details here--for obvious reasons,” Devon said, turning the camera back on himself and lowering his voice as he pushed away from the others. Clarence nodded, still not looking up. “Of course.” “But Clarence . . .” Clarence knew Devon was waiting for him to make eye contact. He resisted for as long as possible. When he finally looked up, Devon’s grin was gone. “This is no joke.” Clarence stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “I understand.” In a flash, Devon’s smile returned. “Excellent! We’ll wait to hear from you, and then our voyage can continue.” He turned back to the other passengers. “What do you say, folks, who’s ready for another drink?” His question was met by a chorus of cheers. Then the screen went blank. Clarence stared at the monitor for a few moments until he heard the control room’s sliding glass doors whoosh open behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Terry Eng, Devon’s right-hand man. As serious as Devon was exuberant. “Clarence, good to see you.” Terry had a way of making it sound like it was anything but good to see him. “You too, Terry.” Terry clapped his hands and rubbed them briskly together. “So, any ideas?” Clarence sat back and looked at the various displays. “Not really. Everything appears to be in the green.” “Exactly,” Terry replied as he rolled a desk chair over toward Clarence and then sat down. The control room was normally manned by a three-person crew, but Terry had dismissed them all once Clarence arrived. “Everything was in the green when it stalled too. Which makes me wonder . . .” “Makes you wonder what?” Clarence asked, swiveling toward him. Terry looked around and then rolled his chair a bit closer, lowering his voice. “If we’ve been hacked.” Clarence raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Hacked? Now what kind of ungrateful psycho would do that to an asshole like Devon?” Terry grimaced as he held back a response. Normally, he didn’t tolerate anyone talking trash about his boss or even insinuating that Devon was anything other than the stellar specimen of humanity that the fawning media made him out to be. But these were special circumstances. Clarence smiled as he watched Terry struggle. “Has anyone claimed responsibility?” Terry shook his head. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean anything.” Clarence turned back to the control panel. “Maybe we should try one more reboot. If that doesn’t work, I don’t think you have a choice. You’re going to have to send up the rescue crawler and tow them down. Thanks to the atomic battery, they’ll have enough oxygen for twenty years, but food is another matter. And there’s only so much recycled piss a person can drink.” “Clarence, I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here.” “What do you mean?” Terry glanced around again to ensure no one was listening--an instinct rather than a necessity, seeing it was clear they were the only people in the room. “Some of the deals Devon made to secure the land-based anchor points are . . .” “Shady?” “Tenuous. As you’re well aware, the places where these anchor points are located, they aren’t necessarily the most stable of countries.” Clarence nodded for Terry to continue. “And?” “If this voyage fails, well, some of those deals could be in jeopardy. The same goes for the lease agreements on the mobile platforms. Which means competitors could--” “Never mind the competition, Terry. If this voyage fails, some lives could be in jeopardy. Very important lives. Including Devon’s.” “I realize that.” Terry nodded at the control panel. “Can we just . . .” “Rebooting now,” Clarence said, turning his chair back to face the monitor.