Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [171]
“I’m sorry, Mr. Braddock—” said the young woman.
“Dr. Braddock—” Kim corrected gently.
“Dr. Braddock, but he’s in conference at the moment.” Her name tag identified her as Wilma LaJanne. Kim decided she was a graduate student.
“This is unfortunate,” Kim persisted.
Wilma checked her computer. “His schedule isn’t free until midafternoon.”
“That can’t be right,” Kim said. With considerable dignity she produced the letter Shep had prepared for her. “I have an appointment. At ten forty-five.”
Wilma looked at the letter, frowned, and moved her lower lip back and forth. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dr. Brad-dock. I’ll inform him when he comes out that you’re here. There’s not much more I can do.”
“When do you expect the meeting to be over?”
“About eleven-thirty, sir. But it’s really hard to say.”
“That won’t do at all,” Kim said. “Not at all. I’m on a deadline, you understand. Professor Teasdale is not going to be happy.” She contrived to look pained and then glanced hopefully at Wilma, inviting her to volunteer. When she didn’t, Kim folded her arms and smiled at the young woman. “I wonder if you might be able to help. I don’t really need much.”
“I’d like to,” she said doubtfully. “But I’ve only been at the museum for a couple of weeks.”
Kim retrieved her letter, folded it, and slipped it into a pocket. “You know who Professor Teasdale is, right?” A nod. “You may also know she’s working on a definitive history of the Pacifica War.”
“Yes,” she said, taking a stab, “I had heard.”
“The museum had until recently a display on the 376 and the battle off Armagon. Back in the east wing.”
“Yes. We took it down just a week or so ago. After the truth came out about Markis Kane.”
Kim let her dismay show. “That was a terrible business, wasn’t it?”
Wilma showed by the way she set her jaw that she was embarrassed the museum had ever raised an exhibit to honor such a man.
“Anyway,” Kim continued, “the exhibit has some factual data which would be very helpful to us. I wonder if you could show me where the material is now? And arrange for me to have access to it for a bit?”
She looked around for someone to consult. Or pass the problem to. Fortunately there was no one. “I’m not sure I can do that, sir.”
Kim tried a desperate smile. “I promise I won’t disturb anything. It would be a great help, and I only need a few minutes.”
Wilma was trying to decide whether the request had a potential for getting her into trouble.
“Professor Teasdale is a close friend of Mikel’s,” Kim added helpfully.
The woman’s lips curved into a smile. Kim suspected she was somewhat taken with Jay Braddock. Amusing notion.
“Of course,” said Wilma. “Let me see if I can find a key.”
She went into one of the offices and Kim heard voices. Moments later a dark-complexioned man with ice blue eyes peered out the door at her, frowned, and withdrew without showing any further sign that she existed. Wilma came back with a remote.
“That was Dr. Turnbull,” she said, without further comment, as though Turnbull were known far and wide.
She led the way to a cargo lift, and they descended into the bowels of the building. Wilma stood nervously off to one side until the lift stopped and the doors opened. Lights came on and Kim saw that they were in a storage area divided into cages. Wilma had to look around a bit, but she finally figured out where she wanted to go. “This way,” she said, walking toward the back. More lights came on. Wilma pointed the remote, locks clicked, and the doors of two cages opened. “This is the stuff from the 376 display.”
The command chair, the parts from the missile launcher, the assorted other sacred artifacts from the battle of Armagon, were already covered with dust. Someone had stacked containers nearby, but no packing had been done yet.
“What exactly were you looking for, Dr. Braddock?”
Kim wanted her to leave