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as he knocks and enters the office.
    The room is dark, lit only by the sun and starlight reflecting off the Moon’s surface outside the panoramic windows.
    “BC?” BC hears Edwards ask softly out of the darkness. As BC’s eyes adjust, he sees that Edwards is sitting in the chair behind the desk, the chair turned around so Edwards can stare off into space.
    “I sure am gonna miss this view,” Edwards says wistfully.
    “Working hard on the transition, huh?” BC ribs him.
    “Well, that’s all pretty much done, now,” Edwards sighs. “Everything should be ready for Monday… did you get your invitation, BC?”
    “Yeah, surprise, huh?” BC jokes half-heartedly.
    “No, they had to invite you to represent the Pope,” Edwards replies, his sense of humor seemingly gone.
    “No, I know, Marc, no getting out of it. For either of us…” BC says into an awkward silence. Neither of them says another word for almost a minute. BC breaks the silence.
    “How’s the reconstruction going?” BC says, changing the topic.
    “Okay,” Edwards says, but he sounds distracted. “I guess.”
    Jeesh, he is just Mister Excitement! I wonder how long he’s been doing this, just sitting in here staring out the window? Seems to me the reconstruction’s slowing down a bit. Maybe that’s because Edwards has lost his motivation…
    “Are you okay?” BC asks Edwards.
    “Yeah,” he sighs, “Y’know, good as I can be, considering.”
    “Considering,” BC agrees.
    “What about you?” Edwards asks BC, brightening a bit. “You keeping out of trouble? I haven’t heard any reports, but…” he leaves the sentence hanging.
    “…I haven’t really been reading any reports, either.” I can hear what you’re saying, even though you’re not saying it, Marc. Defeat can be a hard and bitter pill to swallow. I’ve been there before…
    “No, me? I’m good,” BC assures him. “Incredibly uncomfortable at times, but good,” BC tells him.
    “I’m a little unsure of my status under the coming new regime, but I’m not stupid. If I’ve gotta work with the guy, I’ve gotta work with him.”
    “I never said you were stupid, BC,” Marc says.
    “Thanks,” BC says a little sarcastically. “What about you? What are you going to do? Stay here?”
    “I don’t know,” Edwards says, sounding depressed. “Guess I better figure that out quickly, huh?”
    “What? You’ve got until, what, Monday morning! Plenty of time,” BC jokes.
    “I better get to work then, huh?” Edwards says. BC can hear the dismissal in his voice.
    “So… see you Monday?” BC asks.
    “Yeah,” Edwards says, sounding distracted. BC ducks out of the darkened office, closing the door behind him.
    Poor guy… he sounds devastated. And rightfully so, I guess…
    Black Monday arrives. Many guests have been invited: UTZ CEOs, Pope Linus for the NcC, even UIN leaders. Travel, however, is still a tricky business, post war. Most invited guests not in close proximity, on the Moon or in close orbit, will not be attending, their invitations really only signs of honor and esteem from the new regime.
    BC is compelled to attend by a communiqué from the Curia, from Vatican City, informing him that he would of course be attending the inaugural festivities in the Pope’s absence. Compelled to attend the swearing in of a man I hate, who I know to be a UIN sympathizer and supporter… almost makes me miss Pope Peter, the old bastard… I don’t think the OPO would have had me attend this guy’s inauguration… unless it was to turn it into his funeral… ah, thinking pleasant thoughts to pass the weary time away…
    BC gets ready with an eye on the clock.
    10 AM… I will not be late for this sordid affair… No reason to give McEntyre any ammo to use against me. Any more ammo… There’s some real excitement in the air. The strange sense of limbo that has hung over this place since the election seems to have finally come to a head and broken open today. McEntyre’s