The Starshine Connection Read Online Free

seek out,” Slayton said, changing tack as Winship puffed capaciously
     on his new pipe. “You realize, of course, I’ll probably have to go to California.”
    “You already have the full cooperation of whatever law enforcement resources you’ll need there.”
    “Any sort of time stricture on this, sir?”
    “No. We just have to get to the root of this problem and wipe it out. Bear in mind that the interests that control Starshine
     represent not only illicit narcotics traffic, but a great deal of money as well. They will be primarily interested in keeping
     their operation safe. Considering the power brokers involved in this so far—we’re not merely talking government here, but
     the usual industry and business captains as well as their military counterparts—there could be some very well-insulated initiators.
     That’s mainly what we’re worried about.”
    “Could be department heads manipulating the whole thing,” Slayton said, aware that one of Ham Winship’s conference-table equals
     might just as well be the head dealer for the Starshine traffic. He lifted the dossier from the desk. “I’ll take this and
     begin immediately.” He turned toward the door.
    “One other thing,” Winship said to his back.
    “I know, sir: ‘Don’t get killed and be home by eight.’”
    “No. We both know that it’s your job to get killed if you have to, though I wouldn’t advise it. I was just thinking that there
     is a deadline on this assignment alter all.”
    “Yes?”
    “Crack this thing before someone
else
gets killed.”
    Slayton left his superior behind amidst his own cloud of smoke.

3
    “… of course, Roeg’s visual esthetic is the reason he has been denied the Hollywood-type accolades that come so easily to
     his inferiors—it has nothing to do with his choice of material, or handling of it. He began as a cinematographer, not a director.
     By not staying in his caste, he offended the sensibilities that dole out meaningless prizes like Academy Awards. When was
     the last time anyone mentioned Roeg for
commercial
merit on the basis of his directoral work?”
    Slayton was capable of reciting the speech in his sleep. He had tried to mix, but as usual wound up dominating the group of
     five or six younger Washington socialites. The males were eventually reduced to nodding importantly in counterpoint to Slayton’s
     lucid dissections of the states of the various arts. The women, clutching their arms, gradually became more and more starry-eyed
     as Slayton spoke. The worst he had to deal with was an impulsive conversational attack by one impudent lad who, when nailed
     down, thought baroque and rococo were the same styles.
    It was incredibly dull and time-wasting for Slayton. The progress he was making had nothing to do with the talk that issued
     so mechanically from his mouth and held the Washington coeds and senator’s daughters so hypnotically.
    In the past week, attending two and three of these affairs a day, Slayton had gauged the ebb and flow of the social interactions
     themselves. He timed himself to the very pulse of the parties; in two days he knew which ones to avoid. Normally he would
     have shunned them all, but given the criterion of Starshine, he calculated which affairs to attend, and applied himself with
     a suicidal kind of verve toward being fascinating. It was like bagging a dead snake with a shotgun.
    The aggregate phoniness was the worst thing for a sensibility like Slayton’s. The older stalwarts, with whom it might have
     been interesting to discuss politics, were generally only there to keep up social register appearances (“no comment”), or
     cruising to get laid. The kids were beautiful, but totally callow. Somewhere between, Slayton was certain he would discover
     a tie-line to Starshine.
    “I was almost in a fight, once,” a falsely knowledgeable, man in an ostentatious crushed-velvet suit said, interrupting Slayton’s
     light story. Somehow the conversation had