Mr. Luckhurst munkeymunkey “Good evening, Mr. Crawford. As you know, I am Shamus Luckhurst, son of the acclaimed Sir C. C. Luckhurst. I spoke with your associate, Mr. Aberdeen, on the phone yesterday.” “The pleasure’s mine, good sir,” replied Dominic, embracing Shamus’ outstretched hand and bestowing a hefty shake. “With your support, this small, back-shire company can go much further than was ever previously conceivable.” As he spoke, Dom analyzed his new acquaintance. Mr. Luckhurst’s voice rang with sincerity and enthusiasm. His build was on the thinner side, but his bare arms portrayed muscular sinews. Shamus kept good care of his body; he was an athlete, not a lazy slug. This struck Dominic as an appealing attribute. Mr. Luckhurst was the real deal. As Shamus took the proffered seat at the other end of the diner table, Dom noticed his watchband was made of a dark brown canvas and sported an engraved “E” with a crouching badger hunched behind it. Mr. Crawford was familiar with this company; it used recycled canvas to make those watchbands, making it in his family’s favor. He actually recalled that his son Finion also wore one of those nature-friendly watches, which had cost Dom a mere ten points. This was another good sign; Shamus didn’t squander his money, and he was conscious of his planet’s needs. So far, so good. “I realize that you may wish to become more familiar with the company and our goals, production information, mission statement, employment policies… I actually had Devon compile a folder for me that has organized information in practically every subject of our company.” Dom pulled out a bright blue, six centimeter binder from his briefcase and placed it next to his cup of tea. “I don’t expect you to read it now, but she spent a long time on it, even using her expensive dividers and labeling system. Yes, here, isn’t it wonderful?” he marveled, opening the binder and flicking through the crisp, colorful pages. “Ah, here’s the mission statement. Right it front. Would you like to read it now, Mr. Luckhurst?” “Eh, oh, yes, yes of course, Mr. Crawford. I’d be delighted.” “Marvelous,” Dominic continued. “Now, I hope I’m not speaking too fast, or too much for that matter, but anyway, I am rather excited about all of this; I don’t normally make such bold decisions. Melville put me up to it. He’s so convincing.” Dom chuckled slightly at this. “I imagine,” responded Shamus, glancing over the mission statement lightly. His hand gently flicked back the page to the table of contents. Every one of his actions seemed deliberate, yet smooth and flowing and light. It was as if friction empowered less force upon his body than any normal human, as if he was master of the air. As Dominic continued his analyzing, he concluded that Shamus was in command of himself and his surroundings. “So, it seems your wife has quite the talent for this sort of... project, Mr. Crawford.” “Why thank you. She usually works on more important paperwork, but she had all of the information already from our employee handbooks and public advertisements. I was surprised how quickly she tossed it together. I find it a work of art, really. I definitely should acquire my own copy….” “Quite. Anyway, sir,” pushed Shamus, “the waitress is finally back. How about I make my order?” “Certainly, certainly.” As Shamus spoke with the waitress, Dominic scolded himself; he was speaking too fast and saying more than enough. Luckhurst was probably studying him, too, and had judged him for this mistake. This game was two sided; the deal wasn’t struck yet. He decided to check the time and, viewing his bare wrist, remembered that he had never carried a watch. He checked the clock. It was ten after ten, an interesting time. Dom’s mind then ran his current favorite song in his head, such a nice lead guitar line. The back-up wasn’t half-bad either. Of course, the vibraphone was the heart of the music, not to mention Dom’s favorite instrument anyway. As he neared the second verse, Dominic felt calmer than before. He also noticed that the waitress had left and Shamus seemed ready to talk, his pale green eyes focusing in on Dominic with determination. “Well, Mr. Crawford, I might as well cut to the chase. Your company is the first to respond to my offer.” Dom was slightly taken aback by this statement. It was rather forward, not something that a business man would generally place on the table. He then recalled how one of Shamus’ requests was to pilot some of the faster spacecraft. He was obviously daring; Dominic should have realized that before. “And, no,” Shamus continued, answering Dom’s flustered expression, “I’m not afraid to say that. You’re a trustworthy and honest man, Mr. Crawford, I can tell that.” Dominic then was convinced of Mr. Luckhurst’s studying. “And before I came over to meet with you, I did a little research of my own.” “Naturally,” added Dom, with an easy-going tone. “Yes. Anyway, although your wife’s compilation will no doubt be helpful, I don’t need to read it to know enough to make this decision, Mr. Crawford.” As Mr. Luckhurst said this, Dominic focused in on his eyes, holding them in his gaze. Whatever Luckhurst said, he would have to say it while staring down his receiver, Dominic. Dom took a deep breath, but through his nostrils to avoid the tell-tale gasping. So, he thought, Shamus is quite the hasty one, isn’t he? This will be interesting. “Your company was the first to develop chinchilla dairy products. You hired expertly trained, yet underpaid engineers who could build anything, including the energy-saving, environmentally sound warehouses, barns, machinery, and other tools that you requested. You’re smart. You found men and women who have a wealth of talent but who won’t cost too much money. Of course, the money for this project of yours came from your previous business decisions, as well as your wife’s. Once established in the market, your products began to spread surprisingly fast. The idea of chinchilla milk was odd at first; I’ll admit that I still astonished by the milk’s qualities, but the health benefits and environment friendly attributes soon caught on. Your dairy products weren’t amazingly cheap, however, since you insisted on obtaining the highest quality possible. This combined with your first mistake: being to neighborly to the competition, which soon arrived in the form of larger companies creating pet-dairies, and allowing them to thus thrive, led to your company’s predicament.” Dom squirmed ever so slightly in his café seat as he heard Shamus’ description of his “first mistake.” However, Dominic had to admit that Shamus was hitting every point accurately. He was intelligent. A little too hasty and little cutthroat, but intelligent. “This helped to create the second mistake,” Shamus continued. “Once the competition was established, they created cheaper, albeit inferior, ways of creating chinchilla dairy products. They began turning a better profit than you smaller company and used that to launch into new endeavors, such as expansion into space. Now, you have previously been cautious with risk-taking such as that, maybe too cautious. However, you had good reason; you did lack sufficient funds. This is why I’m going to accept your company, Mr. Crawford, because you are a smart businessman, but an honest, good-hearted, and environment conscience businessman as well. Your company was an extraordinary idea that has gone exceedingly far. All you need is somebody who will give you that push over the cliff edge, but also the rope for you to hang on and climb further than ever before. I’m that guy. I’m going to fund your company’s expansion, and I’m going to have a say in the future decisions of this company. Of course, as I stated in my advertisement, you will still be the head of the company and have the final say. However, you will now have a new voice in your chorus; a voice that will help propel you through the ravages of the savage world that is space. Are you in accordance with this agreement?” Dominic looked hard at Shamus for a few seconds longer, convincing himself of this man’s sincerity. Dom saw in his eyes a blazing determination, a strong will to succeed. He questioned for a time if Mr. Luckhurst would cause more problems with his radical ideas than he did help with his cash and intelligent advice. He then reasoned that between the quiet and reserved Melville, Wallace’s stiff conservative nature, and Devon’s persuasive abilities, that he would be able to handle Mr. Luckhurst. “We have accordance, Mr. Luckhurst.” “Very well,” replied Shamus, revealing a smile to Dominic. "I have the necessary paperwork. Oh-” he started, catching himself, “I almost forgot. You’ll want to see my engineering and flying licenses, of course. I will be doing my share of piloting.” “Yes,” said Dominic. “Naturally.”