At seven that evening, after Noah had showered and settled beneath the hotel blankets with his astronaut, Daniel joined a secure call with Evelyn and the investment committee. The acquisition concerned a medical-logistics platform whose systems coordinated deliveries between regional hospitals, suppliers, and emergency distribution centers. Northstar had spent months negotiating worker protections, service guarantees, and limits on the financial engineering that often followed large transactions. The final agreement was ready, but Daniel read the material provisions one more time before authorizing the transfer.
"I thought you'd be excited," Evelyn said when the electronic signature appeared. "This might be the most strategically important transaction we've closed all year."
"I am excited," Daniel replied. "I just don't want an important transaction to become an excuse for not being present somewhere else."
"You sound like Robert."
He smiled at the mention of his father. "That's usually a compliment."
"It is tonight," she said. Then, after a pause, "I heard about Hale Meridian. Someone from their investor relations department tried to reach us through counsel. They sounded worried."
Daniel glanced toward the bedroom door. "What did you tell them?"
"That any material corporate governance issue would be addressed through proper channels, and that we wouldn't discuss your personal employment matter with people who had no need to know."
"Good. Keep it that way."
Evelyn hesitated. "Daniel, do you want the board to know you've been terminated? There are things we should evaluate regarding shareholder interests and the reports you filed. But we can do that without turning your son's trip into a public fight."
"Tell the audit team to preserve every document they have. Make sure nothing touches company systems without authorization. I want the full picture, and I want it independently verified." He heard Noah call his name from the other room. "We'll speak in the morning. My son needs me."
He ended the call and walked back to the bedroom. Noah had dropped the astronaut beside the pillow and was trying to decide whether the museum exhibit might contain a real moon rock. Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and promised to look for the label together. He did not tell his son that a corporate transaction large enough to dominate a financial newspaper had just closed on a laptop at the hotel desk.
They spent the next day wandering through the museum. Noah pressed buttons on an interactive spacecraft panel, asked a patient guide seventeen questions about docking procedures, and stood silently before a photograph of Earth taken from orbit. Daniel watched him study the image and wondered what it felt like to see an entire world without understanding how divided the people on it could be. For nearly four hours his phone stayed tucked in his jacket pocket, exactly as promised.
At lunch, Noah announced that he might become an astronaut, although he was concerned about leaving his father on Earth. Daniel suggested that scientists needed people on the ground as much as in space. Noah thought about that, then decided they could work on the same mission if Daniel became an engineer for the space program. He liked the idea so much that he drew a picture of them wearing matching helmets on a paper napkin.