“Did you calculate last night into your strategy?” asked Iago.
“No,” replied Carnell.
“Aren’t you supposed to factor in any variables?”
“What sort of variables?”
“The ones that include my irresistible sexual magnetism and ability to seduce anyone I want,” said Iago.
Carnell turned away from Iago to check his reflection in his bedside mirror. He flashed a brief grin to make sure his vividly blue eyes matched up to the dazzling whiteness of his teeth and his general dazzlingness over all.
“As you wish, Iago, but I only deal with relevant variables,” said Carnell elongating his vowels to sound as bored as possible.
Iago scowled, he thought Carnell was being too vain to admit to having been mesmerised by his astounding beauty. He decided to let it go. Changing the subject he said, “Have you ever thought of getting a rubber ceiling?”
Carnell turned to face Iago. “What ever for?” Not even psycho-strategists knew everything.
“Combined with a rubber floor, in case the ceiling’s components malfunction, it’s said to improve anyone’s night even eunuchs. It’s 600,000 credits for each surface,” drawled Iago.
Ah, not pure rubber, then again with Iago… “I’d want more than an improvement for that price.”
“It also keeps out Tarenists and other armed intruders. Add the cost to your next bill for Uvanov - he won’t notice.”
“How long have you worked for Uvanov? Of course he’ll notice.”
“Not with a couple of dead Board members outside his office door.”
“That strategy is getting old, Iago. Kill Landerchild and he‘ll give you anything” advised Carnell for free.
“Uvanov wouldn’t be able to cope with the feelings of true happiness, Landerchild’s demise would bring him. He’d have a coronary and then I’d have to get a new Firstmaster Chairholder to work for me.”
Carnell smiled at Iago’s last sentence. “Sometimes I ignore all logic and think if there was an apocalypse all that would be left would be cockroaches and Uvanov.”
“Common ancestors.” Iago got out of the bed. He had a meeting with various builders and engineers about the installation of booby traps in the grounds of Uvanov’s home and didn’t want to be late.