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his one edge in the coming war for the control of Stonebraker. He needed the element of surprise for several more weeks.
    He also needed a wife or, at the very least, a fiancée to help him reshape his image.
    But since marriage was for life on St. Helens, he intended to make his selection as carefully and as rationally as possible. He had assumed that meant using a good matchmaking agency, the way most intelligent people did. On the whole, everyone agreed, the first generation Founders had been right when they had established the matchmaking system and reinforced it with all the weight and force of law, custom, and social pressure at their disposal.
    Occasionally marriages were contracted without the assistance of professional agencies, but those alliances were rare and generally frowned upon.
    Theoretically, marriage agencies such as Synergistic Connections, with their scientific techniques and synergistic psychological tests gave individuals the best possible chance of contracting satisfactory marriages. Unfortunately, it looked as if the best agency in New Seattle was failing in his case, Rafe thought.
    He had the sinking feeling that he had wasted the past three weeks concentrating on his other duck-puffins while he left the wife-hunting problem to Synergistic Connections.
    He realized that Hobart was watching him with an expectant expression. But he could hardly announce that he fully intended to become the next C.E.O. of Stonebraker Shipping. Secrecy was critical at this juncture. His entire plan to save the family firm depended on it. If Selby were to discover too soon that Rafe was maneuvering to take control of the company, he would have three months to take action to prevent the coup.
    Selby was only a tech-talent, Rafe thought, but lately the sneaky little bastard had shown a surprising flair for business strategy.
    “It’s not as if I’m not gainfully employed, Batt.” Rafe unfolded his arms, straightened and walked across the room to a low, heavily carved table. He plucked a small white card from the pile he kept in an ornate glass bowl. The embossed black letters read The Synergy Fund.
    With a flick of his wrist Rafe sent the crisp business card sailing toward Hobart.
    It landed on the immaculately pressed pleat of Hobart’s pale gray trousers. He gingerly picked up the card and glanced at it. “Yes, yes, I’m well aware that you manage a very successful stock market mutual fund. I, myself, own some shares in it. I understand that your personal financial picture is extremely sound. That is not my point.”
    Hobart was obviously not impressed. Rafe decided not to make things worse by mentioning his evening hobby. After all, he only indulged himself in the off-the-books private investigation stuff when he was especially bored or restless.
    “What is your point, Batt?”
    Hobart cleared his throat. “Surely you understand that some of the image challenges we face could be greatly mitigated if you were employed in the executive branch of your family’s firm.”
    Rafe smiled coldly. “You mean if it looked as though I’d finally seen the light, decided to join Stonebraker Shipping and henceforth start moving in the right social circles, some of your clients might be willing to overlook my strat-talent?”
    “Frankly, yes.” Hobart reddened but his expression remained professionally determined. “It would make my job a good deal easier if you gave the impression of being a, shall we say, more conventional Stonebraker.”
    Such an impression was exactly what he could not afford to give at this point, Rafe thought. “Let’s try this from another angle, Batt. Perhaps you should introduce me to some less than ideal candidates. Who knows? I might be able to change my image in their eyes.”
    Hobart’s eyes widened in alarm. “See here, I’m a professional, Mr. Stonebraker. I’m not about to allow you the opportunity to try to intimidate any of my clients.”
    “I wasn’t talking about