James Hogan - Entoverse

It spoke in his ear, not his head. A sudden feeling of being back among familiar things came over him. Perhaps, in some ways, the Shapieron Ganymeans were closer to Earthpeople than to Thuriens. “ZORAC, you haven’t changed,” he replied. “This isn’t what it looks like. And even if it were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

“Glad to see you’re in one piece, anyhow.”

The reception clerk was coming through coherently now that ZORAC was on-line to translate. “Dr. Hunt, we’re sure pleased to see you. We’ve put alerts out all over. The Ganymeans have been getting worried.”

“Did everyone else make it okay?” Hunt asked.

“They’re all here.”

“We passed an accident on the way from Geerbaine,” Hunt said. “A part of a bridge collapsed.”

“Yes. A senior officer of the Shiban police was killed. There was a lot of confusion.”

“Also, there was a Terran party in a bus, off the same ship as us. They were in a precarious situation when we left.”

“The school group?”

“That’s them. The two Terrans who met us stayed behind to sort it out. Do you have any news on what happened?”

“They’re all okay. Koberg and Lebansky got back a few minutes ago.” Hunt nodded and emitted a thankful sigh. The clerk inclined his head to indicate the three girls, who were by this time talking to the guards. “Er, where did they come from?” he inquired, dropping his voice discreetly.

“They were collecting for charity at the airport.”

“Sure. Give me a call,” Osaya was saying to one of them.

“I’m off at seven. How about then?”

“Anytime. And I love the Terran uniform…” ZORAC was still supplying the background translation.

Just then, another figure appeared through some doors on the far side of the lobby area and came across. He was about fortyish, with a medium, athletic build, black-haired and clean-shaven, and wearing a white shirt and gray slacks. As he got closer, Hunt recognized his face as the American that Lebansky had talked to on the screen inside the minibus. The American grinned easily and extended a hand.

“Dr. Hunt, from UNSA?”

“Yes.”

“Hi. The name’s Del Cullen. Glad you’re okay.” Cullen eyed the three girls curiously. “I see you’ve been making friends already.”

“Well, you didn’t send the mayor with a red carpet. One must exercise initiative.”

The girls waved as Hunt turned with Cullen to go into the building. “Come and see us again, Vic,” Nixie sang after him. “Call if you don’t remember the way.”

“I might surprise you,” Hunt called back. “And thanks again.”

Cullen and Hunt began walking back across the lobby. “English?” Cullen said.

“Yes-from London originally. How about you?”

“East Coast. Baltimore.”

“How do you fit in here?”

Cullen’s voice fell to a level that was not for carrying. “Well, I try to impress some concept of security into these people. It’s an uphill battle at times, but we’re getting there slowly.”

“Which people do you mean-Jevlenese or Ganymeans?”

“Both. I was sent here to help Garuth set the system up. He’s learning fast, but you know how it is with Ganymeans: running an intelligence operation isn’t their line. They didn’t have any eyes or ears out in the city-just tended to sit inside PAC and believe whatever the Jevs told them. We’re starting to use Jevlenese outside, now. They can be okay if you know how to select the right ones.”

They entered the elevator. “I take it that those two who picked us up, Koberg and Lebansky, they work for you, then?” Hunt said.

“Right. We imported a nucleus of pros from back home to seed the operation.”

The elevator shaft was a transparent tube, and the car had all-round windows, presenting views of a progression of galleries, halls opening into office areas, and wide corridors as the car ascended. Although not exactly new and gleaming, the condition of the surroundings was noticeably better than the general standard outside.

Hunt still didn’t follow completely. He remembered one of the two at Geerbaine saying something about things happening that Hunt probably didn’t know about. “So, how did you get here?” he asked Cullen. “I mean, how did Garuth come to acquire a security operation in the first place? Who do you work for?”

“When the Thuriens and our own governments set up this arrangement, some of the folks back home knew there’d be problems when the Jevlenese started getting over their shell shock. The U.S. pushed for a security operation here that wouldn’t have to depend on the Jevlenese police, but the Thuriens blocked it.” Cullen shrugged. “So somebody persuaded Garuth that it would be a good idea to set up something anyway-‘semiofficial,’ if you know what I mean- just in case it was needed. If it turned out to be over cautious, well, no harm done.”

Hunt nodded. As far as he was concerned, obstructions existed to be circumvented. “And I take it, it turned out to be just as well they did,” he said.

“There’s something funny going on here, all right, with mean people involved. We haven’t exactly figured out what yet. But we can go into that with Garuth later.”

Hunt nodded. “Where will we be staying?” he inquired to change the subject.

Cullen gestured to take in the general scene outside the elevator. “We’ve reserved quarters for you here in PAC. So you won’t have to worry too much if things get a bit hectic outside. The rest of your group are over in the residential part of the complex now, getting their gear straightened out. Your bags came straight through on a freight tube.”

Hunt thought about Gina, out at the spaceport. “How about the people who are staying at Geerbaine?” he asked. “Is there any risk there?”

Cullen shook his head. “The Thuriens run that whole area, and the Jevs don’t want to upset them because they’re the only ones who can turn JEVEX back on. They should be okay.”

They came out of the elevator and headed across an open space with a large window looking out at the city. On the far side of the floor several corridors branched off in different directions. They followed one of them past an area with Jevlenese working at desks and terminals. A number of Ganymeans were also visible, some of them Thuriens, Hunt noted. Beyond the open area were smaller rooms and offices.

Garuth was waiting for them in a large, roughly circular anteroom furnished like a reception lounge, with seats facing a sunken area in the center. Another of Cullen’s security guards was seated unobtrusively at a desk by a passage leading through to the inner section.

With Garuth were Shilohin, the female scientist who had been with him when he made his call to Hunt at home, and another old friend of Hunt’s, Rodgar Jassilane, the Shapieron’s engineering chief. The Ganymeans welcomed him in their characteristic easygoing manner, but it was clear that they were relieved to see him after his mishap of getting separated from the others.

“We saw ZORAC’s replay of your arrival,” Garuth said as they shook hands.

“It seems that you’re managing to find your way around Shiban already,” Shilohin remarked. The expression on her face had to be the Ganymean equivalent of a smirk. Hunt began to suspect that he would be really tired of that particular topic before the day was out.

“How was your journey?” Jassilane inquired, shaking Hunt’s hand in turn.

“At least we didn’t lose our brakes and have to spend twenty-five million years slowing down,” Hunt replied, grinning. It was a reference to the problem that had caused the Shapieron’s long exile from the Solar System when it tried to return to Minerva. Relativistic time dilation, compounded by an effect of the vessel’s gravity drive, had reduced it to something in the order of twenty years ship’s time.