Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [182]
Kim sighed. She was on the sofa, trying unsuccessfully to read the latest issue of Cosmic, and she was not in the mood for more hostility. Nevertheless she straightened herself and told Shepard to make the connection.
“Brandywine,” said Tora. The woman was difficult.
“Hello,” said Kim.
The archeologist was standing beside an antique vase. “Would I be correct in concluding,” she said, “that it was you I saw at the Mighty Third yesterday?”
“I don’t think so,” Kim said.
“Please don’t waste my time. I’m not stupid.”
Kim shrugged.
“I warned him it was a bad place to leave them,” she said.
Was she talking about her father? Or Mikel? “What exactly,” asked Kim, “do you want?”
“I have an instruction to carry out.” She looked at Kim the way one might look at a beetle.
“An instruction? From whom?”
“From Markis.”
“Oh?”
“First I need to be sure I have the right person. Did you, or did you not, steal something from the museum yesterday?”
“Just a moment.” Kim cut the sound. “Shep,” she said, “are we being recorded at the other end?”
He needed a moment to run a sweep. “No,” he said.
“If she starts to record,” Kim said, “cut us off immediately.”
“I’ll do that, Kim.”
“Give me the sound again.”
Tora gazed at her from under half-lowered lids. “I hope you feel safe enough now to tell me the truth.”
“I have the logs,” said Kim. “There’s something else you should see.”
“What?”
“Come tomorrow evening. At seven.”
“You can’t tell me what it is?”
She blinked off.
A government flyer touched down on Kim’s pad at precisely nine A.M. She got in, showed her ID to the dex, and the vehicle lifted off and headed northwest through a sky heavy with rainstorms.
She was exhausted. The images from the Hunter’s cargo bay had given her no rest. She kept seeing Emily’s eyes, and Tripley’s mad dash to seize the Valiant.
What should she do now?
It seemed simple enough: release the news. It would be a huge story, and while the Hunter crew wouldn’t emerge covered with glory, at least some of the suspicions of foul play would dissipate. But she couldn’t do that without also divulging that a contact had been made. And that would violate the understanding she had with Woodbridge.
If people found out, there’d be no holding them back. Everybody with access to a ship would be headed for Alnitak. Where they’d encounter what? A species made hostile by the apparent hijacking of one of their ships?
The flyer dropped onto a rooftop pad at the National Security Center. By then rain was falling heavily. The vehicle taxied into one of the shelters and Kim found a young female escort waiting for her.
She was taken down several floors and shown into a small office. Moments later a door opened and Woodbridge appeared. He shook her hand, asked whether everything was going well at the Institute. Before she had a chance to answer, an assistant looked in and told him they were ready. “Good,” Woodbridge said. Showing no interest whatsoever in conditions at the Institute, he led the way across a corridor into a conference room where roughly twenty people were milling about. It was a festive occasion. Cheeses, pastry, and wine had been laid out. Woodbridge began introducing her to the room’s occupants—all seemed to have titles, Director This and Commissioner That—when a side door opened and everyone fell silent. The few who were not already on their feet rose.
Kim couldn’t see who was coming in, but she heard voices just outside in the corridor and then the commotion was in the room and she saw that it was Talbott Edward, one of the members of the Council. He strode to the front, while people made way on both sides, and took his position behind a lectern. He waited for everyone to find a seat.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “It’s good to see you all again. I don’t get up here often enough.” Edward was tall, extraordinarily thin, immaculately groomed. He wore bracelets on both wrists, and his gaze had the quality of reflecting from his aides and guests, as if he didn’t quite see anyone around him.
“Today I have