Book 2: Chapter 35: Sales Call
Howard
September 2192
Vulcan
Bridget and I watched as Butterworth took a careful sip. He held the glass away from his face and looked at it. Damn, he had one of the best poker faces I’d ever seen. And possibly a cast-iron throat. He might as well have been drinking water for all the reaction he showed.
“Well?” Bridget leaned forward. I took a second to grin at her impatience. For me, this was an interesting project, and a chance to do a favor for the colonel. For Bridget, this was an actual potential source of extra income. We Bobs might not have a use for capitalism, but in the human realm, money still made the world go around.
Butterworth glanced at Bridget and then looked at me in the video screen. “It’s actually not bad. It’s definitely Irish whiskey. And since the Jameson has run out, I’ve been feeling the lack.”
“So this would be a saleable item?” Bridget hovered like a dog waiting for a treat.
“Absolutely. You know we’ve already got several beer manufacturers and a couple of small wineries going. This is the first hard liquor, though, that doesn’t qualify as a public hazard.”
Bridget turned towards my image on the tablet and grinned. Looked like we were in business.