Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [101]
The Marlin technician went to lunch, but the Worldwide people broke into shifts and the noon hour came and went with no opportunity to leave.
In midafternoon a young beefy man showed up with his luggage. “Uh-oh,” Solly said.
“Who is it?” asked Kim.
“Webley. He’s a cosmologist assigned to the Taratuba team.” They heard him talking in the passageway and Solly went out to greet him. Kim followed.
One of the technicians was pointing Webley in the direction of the living quarters. He wore a self-important smile and when he saw Kim his gaze swept past her as if she were of no consequence. “Solly,” he said, “good to see you. Are the others here yet?”
Solly did the introductions first, and then informed Webley that no one else had yet arrived.
Webley wore a jacket of the type favored in the Kalipik Islands, white shirt with fluffy collar, dark slacks, and a red neckerchief. His voice seemed set quite low so that one had to strain to hear him, but his manner implied it was well worth the effort. He had an unkempt red beard, of a slightly different shade from the neckerchief. “Is everything on schedule?” he asked.
“Yes,” Solly said briskly. “To the minute.”
“Good.” He adjusted his sleeves and checked the time. “May I ask which room is mine?”
“Unit eight,” said Kim. End of the passageway.
When he was gone, Solly turned a worried gaze on her. “This isn’t going so well,” he said. “We may have to cancel.”
Kim shook her head. “Let’s not give up too easily.” She walked down the corridor and passed Webley’s door. Music had begun to play within. Heavy classical stuff. Vorwerk, probably. Or Benado.
She needed to get rid of the workmen first.
The Worldwide crew were still mounting trim, touching up window frames, hanging curtains in the conference room, bolting down a table in the rec area, and installing cabinets on the bottom level. The one who seemed to be in charge was an older man, a candidate for membership with the Mariners.
“How we doing?” she asked casually.
“We’re getting there. We’re a man short on this job,” he said, wiping his sleeve against his mouth. He looked overheated. “Happens every time. They let something go to the last minute and then somebody decides to take time off.”
“Why’d they wait until the last minute?” asked Kim.
He made a face. “Uh, well, you know, these things happen.” His eyes never met hers and she understood he was lying. The truth, she guessed, was that no money was passing hands. This was a tax write-off job, not high on Worldwide’s priority list.
“Will you be finished by five?” she asked.
“Hard to say.” His expression took her into his confidence. “If we don’t make it, it’s overtime, you know?”
Across the room, the Marlin technician closed a panel and began gathering his gear together.
“Done?” she asked.
“That’s it.” He asked her to initial his work order. He’d updated the VR equipment. She signed; he thanked her and left.
She turned back to the Mariner and asked what his name was.
“Leo Eastley,” he said.
She put on her best executive demeanor. “Leo, you and your crew have done a good job, but we’re going to have to proceed as is. Leave things where they are. We’ll finish up.”
He looked at her. His silver hair was hanging in his eyes.
“No time left,” she explained.
“Why’s that?” he asked. “I thought we had all day. We’re not finished.”
“We have to run some tests.”
“Go ahead. We won’t get in the way.”
“No, you don’t understand. These are precision mass-acceleration tests. The presence of extra people will skew the results.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Sorry, but we don’t have any choice.”
“We won’t be coming back. Job’s supposed to be finished today.”
“It’s okay.”
He produced a notepad. “You’ll have to sign that everything’s done and you’re satisfied.”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“I’ll make a notation here about what happened. Warranties may be affected.”
She smiled at him. “It’s okay. We can live with it.”
She signed and initialed the notation. Leo rounded up his crew,