Endworlds - Nicholas Read [14]
Hills gaped at him and sat down again with a heavy thud. “Sir? Resignation?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Eisman was utterly composed. “If the boys and girls on the Board are worried about my mental capacity I am happy to relieve them of that concern. They can pick a new CEO. If they think it better for publicity they can promote me to CEO Emeritus. But as of this moment I am stepping down. I’m sure Burroughs Labs will do just fine without me.”
“It won’t.” Hills spoke with conviction.
“That’s very good of you to say so, Bill. I’ll be happy to consult, if they want me. But as of right now my life is my own.” His voice lowered. “Several billion ought to allow me to conclude my searching in a satisfactory fashion.”
A sudden thought made him look up. “What about you? What will you do?”
Hills took a moment to reflect. He had many years invested with Burroughs. There were stock options to consider, a vested retirement plan, the possibility of additional promotion within. There were friends he would miss. He watched the other man finish his meal. Other friends, yes, but he had never met another individual like Raef Eisman. There were times when the billionaire made no sense to anyone but himself. Yet somehow everything always turned out not only right, but interesting. Even exhilarating.
He made his decision.
“You have other things on your mind, sir. You’re going to need someone to manage your affairs. Look after your daily needs, finances, properties. I would like to apply for the job.”
Eisman eyed him without a glimmer of a smile. “Got references?”
“I can . . .” Hills began. Then he stopped. “Your sense of humor, sir, can oft be disconcerting.”
“Yeah, shut up. You’re hired, Bill. Communicate my resignation to Burroughs, fire yourself, and write up your own contract.”
“Is a contract necessary between us, sir?”
Pushing back his chair, Eisman rose. “Probably not, but no deal is final till the paperwork is signed. Remember: without ink, deals sink.”
The sun was going down, it was getting dark, and the resort’s solar-powered lights would not stay on past a certain hour. Eisman turned to leave. “I still have a couple of reports to review from the mountain crews. See you in the morning.”
“Not in the morning, sir. I’ll head into town first thing to handle this admin. Once London reacts it might be like drinking from a fire hose.”
“Oh, right. For my resignation be concise and be firm.” A last smile. “Be competent.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Hills followed his friend’s departure, glanced again at his wristwatch and made hurriedly for the beach.
Eisman’s funk could not last forever, he knew. This clinging to a wish couched in desperation, this reluctance to accept reality and to let go. It might well linger until poor little Paige’s body or that of one of her friends was found.
As a friend Hills was prepared to stick with her father until that moment came, or until Eisman finally surrendered all hope to the realization that his daughter was well and truly gone and that her fate might never be known.
Eventually the distraught billionaire would return to the real world. At that time should he wish to resume his old position Burroughs would welcome him back. There was no question of that. He had made far too much money for them to refuse his return to the board, and in his morning wire he would remind them of that and suggest they both continue to serve in a consultative capacity rather than cut ties completely. Raef might snap out of it next month, it might be next week. It might even be tomorrow.
Except that tomorrow was when Raef Eisman heard about Nan Madol.
THAT HE HAD BEEN on Pohnpei as long as he had without having been told or learning about the ruins only reaffirmed how focused his attention had been on the search inland.
A series of ninety-two artificial islets, the ancient Nan Madol complex5 had been constructed on the southeastern side of the island and was not visible from the resort. Having heard about the ruins in the course of making periodic runs into the