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president and chief executive officer of Masterson Aerospace Corporation.”
    Paul felt suddenly nervous. What Joanna was going to do would not only cause a rift in the board, it would shatter her son, who expected to be elected unanimously. And marriage? Paul wondered. If I don’t get elected will she still want to marry me? Do I really want to marry her?
    “This great corporation was founded, as you all know, in the dark years of the Second World War by Elliot Masterson,” Arnold was droning in his sonorous, soporific voice.“His son, the first Gregory Masterson, took over at Elliot’s retirement …”
    In all his years as an astronaut and then a corporate executive, the idea of marriage had never entered Paul’s mind. Women were plentiful, and there was no time to get hung up over one. Paul was driven by the urge to succeed. Not merely to be the best, but to get the others to acknowledge that he was the best. To get to the Moon. To make Moonbase viable. To make a success where everyone else said it was impossible.
    I never really thought about marriage, Paul was saying to himself. Maybe it’s time to settle down. Enough tail chasing. I haven’t really wanted to, anyway, since I met Joanna. Maybe that means I really love her. But does she love me or is this just going to be a business deal? Marriage for Moonbase. Some deal.
    “… and now that Gregory Masterson II is no longer among us,” Arnold went on, “I believe it is in accord with the finest traditions of this great corporation that we ask his son, Gregory Masterson III, to accept the weighty responsibilities of president and chief executive officer of Masterson Aerospace Corporation.”
    “Second the nomination.”
    Paul swivelled his head. Melissa had seconded Greg’s nomination with the swiftness of an automaton. That was a surprise.
    Grinning coyly, Arnold asked, “Any other nominations?”
    “I nominate,” said Joanna, “Paul Stavenger.”
    A shock wave flashed along the table. Greg’s face went white. He looked as if his mother had just slapped him. Arnold’s mouth dropped open.
    “Second that,” said the man at Paul’s left, the corporation’s comptroller.
    Arnold blinked several times, looking more like a perplexed frog than ever. Finally he said, in a low angry voice, “Any
other
nominations?”
    None.
    “Discussion?”
    Joanna said, “I don’t want to give the board the impression that I have no confidence in my son. I simply feel that Paul has earned the right to be CEO. He pushed the Clippershipprogram to its current highly successful status. Without the Clipperships this corporation would be in receivership.”
    “That’s something of an overstatement!” Arnold sputtered.
    Joanna made a smile for him. “Perhaps. But Paul’s shown he can be an effective CEO. My son is young enough to wait a few years. With a little patience, he’ll make a fine CEO one day.”
    Greg said nothing. He glowered at his mother in silent hatred.
    Paul knew what was irking Arnold. Old frog-face thought that he could control Greg. With Greg as CEO, Arnold would effectively be running the corporation his way. He had no desire to see a strong independent CEO elected.
    His face florid, Arnold said to Joanna, “But this corporation has always had a Masterson at its head. I thought that we all wanted to keep control in the family’s hands.”
    Joanna’s smile turned slightly wicked. “Oh, it will be in the family’s hands. Paul and I are going to be married.”
    Greg bolted to his feet so hard he knocked his heavy padded chair over backwards. “Married!” he shouted. “To—to
him!
”
    Before his mother could reply, Greg pushed past his overturned chair and stamped out of the meeting room, slamming the heavy door as he left.
    Christ, Paul thought, she hadn’t told him anything about this. He’s just as shocked as the rest of them.
    “I’m afraid,” Joanna said calmly, “that Greg allows his emotions to overwhelm him, sometimes.”
    Paul