Jack McDevitt: A Talent for War

The chair was comfortable. Supernaturally so, in fact, just as the Mindinmist was supremely good. You get that kind of effect with objects that don’t really exist. Some people say perfection spoils the illusion, and that sponders would work better if the physical sensations were muted, or flawed. Like the real thing.

"What’s that?" I asked, thinking he was going to ask me to administer the estate in some meaningful way. See that the money went to a good cause. Not spend it all on skimmers and women.

He poked at the fire. It popped, and a log fell heavily off the grate. A cloud of sparks swirled and died. I could feel the heat on my face. "How did it happen? Heart attack? Problem with the leased ship? Hell, was I run down by a taxi on my way to the spaceport?"

I couldn’t suppress a smile at the notion that the simulacrum was curious. "Gabe," I said, "the flight never came out of the jump."

"Isn’t that a son of a bitch?" A chuckle forced its way out, and then he dissolved in gales of laughter. "I died on the goddam commercial leg." I started to laugh too. The Mindinmist was warm in my stomach, and I refilled our glasses.

"Ridiculous," he said.

"Safest form of travel per passenger-kilometer," I observed.

"Well, I’m damned if I’ll make that mistake again." But the laughter died into a long silence. "Still, I’d have liked to see it."

I expected him to say more. When he didn’t, I prompted him. "See what? What were you looking for?"

He waved the question away. "To be honest with you, I don’t feel very comfortable doing this. I mean, it seems only decent that people shouldn’t hang around after they’ve—" he shook one hand idly, looking for the expression he wanted, "—gone to a happier world." He sounded uncertain. Lost. "But I had to guard against this possibility." His eyes fastened on mine and grew very round. "Do you remember Hugh Scott?"

I considered it. "No," I said at last.

"No reason why you should, I suppose. How about Terra Nuela? Do you remember that?"

Sure. Terra Nuela was the first habitation built outside the solar system. It was constructed on a hot, rocky world circling Beta Centauri, and it was, of course, little more now than a hole in the desert. It was the first excavation Gabe had taken me to. "Yes," I said. "Hottest place I’ve ever seen."

"Scott was along on that trip. I thought you might have remembered him. He used to take you for walks after sundown."

"Okay," I said, calling up a vague recollection of a big, bearded, dark-skinned man. Of course, I was at an age when everyone was big.

"If you had known Scott a few years ago, known him as I did, you wouldn’t recognize him now."

"Health?" I asked. "Marital problems?"

"No. Nothing like that. He came back from a mission with Survey about three years ago. He came back somber, preoccupied, disoriented. Not at all like his old self. In fact, I suspect a psychiatrist would conclude that he’s undergone a fundamental personality change. You would not have found him a desirable companion."

"And?"

"He was on board the Tenandrome, one of the big new survey ships. They saw something very strange in the Veiled Lady."

"What?"

"He wouldn’t tell me, Alex. Wouldn’t admit to anything."

"Then you’re guessing—?"

"I know what they saw. Or at least I think I do. I was on my way out there when—" He stopped, unable to continue, and waved one hand at the ceiling.

"What do you think they saw?"

"I’m not sure how much I can tell you," he said. "There’s always a security problem about these transmissions. And you won’t want this to get around."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Take my word for it." He was back in his chair again, kneading his forehead in the way that he did when he was trying to count something out. "You’ll have to come home. I’m sorry about that, but it can’t be helped. Jacob has everything you’ll need. It’s in the Leisha Tanner file. The lawyers will provide the access code." He looked suddenly very tired. But he stayed on his feet. "Missing this one is a son of a bitch, Alex. I envy you."

"Gabe, I have a business here. I can’t just pick up and leave."

"I understand. It would have been easier for me, I suppose, to go elsewhere for help. I have several colleagues who would trade their souls for this. But I wanted to compensate us for lost years. My gift and your reward, Alex. Do as I ask: you’ll never regret it. At least, I don’t think you will."

"You can’t tell me anything now?"

"No more than I have. It’s all waiting for you at home."

"Who’s Leisha Tanner?"

He disregarded the question. "You’ll want to keep this to yourself. At least until you know what it’s about. Alex, I should also tell you that time is of the essence. The offer will go elsewhere unless you present yourself at the offices of Brimbury and Conn within thirty standard days. I’m sorry about that, but I can’t risk having this get away from us."

"Gabe, you are still a son of a bitch." I said it lightly and he smiled.

"I’ll tell you this much." He looked smug. "I’ve got the truth about Talino."

"Who the hell is Talino?"

He pursed his lips. "Ludik Talino."

"Oh," I said. "The traitor."

He nodded. "Yes." He spoke the word dreamily. "Christopher Sim’s navigator. Perhaps one of the most unfortunate men who ever lived."

"Infamous would be a better word."

"Yes. Good. He still arouses passions after two centuries." He was moving swiftly around the room now, a fountain of energy. "Did you know that he always claimed to be innocent?"

I shrugged. "All that’s dead a long time, Gabe. I can understand your interest, but I can’t imagine why there’d be a security risk with anything concerning Ludik Talino. Would you want to explain a bit further?"

"I’d rather not pursue the issue, Alex. You have no idea how much is at stake. Come as quickly as you can."

"Okay. I’ll do it." I was finding it increasingly hard to speak. I really didn’t give a damn about the collection of clay pots or whatever it was he thought he had hold of this time. In a sense, these were our last moments together, and that was all I could think about. "I’ll inform the lawyers I’m on my way. But I have a few things to clear up here. Will they hold me to the thirty days? I mean, whatever you’ve got has kept for two centuries. Surely a few more months won’t make any difference."

"No." He leaned toward me, bracing his chin on one fist. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps not. I don’t suppose a little delay would matter much now. But you’ll have to ask Brimbury and Conn. I left them some discretion to act. I suppose it will come down to whether they feel you’re reliable." He winked. "After you’ve read the file, you may conclude that I have proceeded improperly. I have no sure way of judging your reaction. I must admit that I’m of several minds about my own conduct in this matter. But I leave everything to you, with confidence. I’m sorry I won’t be with you at the end."

"You’ll be there," I said.

He laughed. "Sentimental nonsense, Alex. I’m gone already, past caring about any of this, really. But if you want to do something for me: when everything’s over, send an appropriate souvenir to the Center for Accadian Studies." He beamed with pleasure at the prospect. "Those bastards have always called me an amateur."

He held his hands out, palms wide. "I guess that’s all, Alex. I love you. And I’m glad you were along for the ride."

We embraced. "Thanks, Gabe."

"It’s okay. I want this one in the family. One way or another." I was standing, but he still looked down into my eyes. "Handle this right, and they’ll be naming universities for us."

"I never knew you cared about stuff like that."