Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [31]
What have I done?
There, there, free-mind soothed.
All is not lost, said logic-mind with uncharacteristic sympathy, as it worked for a solution.
Tekton and his minds lay in a huddle of mutual despair for some time until logic-mind came up trumps.
Well, we have the device, don’t we?
Yes, agreed free-mind and Tekton.
Then let’s use it!
BELLE-MONDE
‘Gone where?’ demanded Miranda Seeward. She was the first to recover and demand an answer.
Chief Balbao surveyed the group of agitated tyros. To his disappointment, each one of them seemed as surprised as the next. ‘I’d hoped you might have that answer for me.’
‘But that’s t-terrible,’ spluttered Javid.
The rest nodded, each seeing their generous study grant vanishing.
‘Terrible, but true. I suggest we take a few hours to digest this news and study the newscasts on the purported invasion. We should meet back here then and devise a strategy. I would request that none of you contact your institutions or benefactors about this until we have had time to assess and evaluate. It could be that the Entity will reappear in a short time, in which case we would look most foolish for panicking. OLOSS has enough to concern itself with at the present.’
A group nod. Even the uulis flared their agreement colour.
‘Your mouds will inform you of the meeting time. Thank you.’
Balbao made a quick departure before any of them could attach themselves to him. The one thing he’d learned about the tyros was that, like children, they could ask endless questions.
His office offered no solace. A deluge of enquiries and requests for instruction awaited him on his moud. Most imperative of them all was the ’cast query from the OLOSS steering committee, asking why they hadn’t received the most recent data.
Inform them that changes in the Entity’s electromagnetic field are interfering with our data collection. There’ll be a delay of some days, he told his moud. And contact Balol on my private account.
Balbao paced the circumference of his office while he waited. Belle-Monde, while unwholesome in terms of its decor, had afforded him the most important research assignment he’d ever had. Success here meant the opening of doors all over the scientific worlds. If there were worlds left.
Balbao was not given to moments of anxiety – it wasn’t in his Balol make-up to be jittery – but the current state of his affairs was less than desirable. And he hated being at the beck and call of the tyros. Though they were learned beings of his ilk, their selection on this programme and their subsequent shafting had made them less than trustworthy, and more than unpredictable. It was as though they were at the whim of the Entity, not studying it.
In his next meeting with them he would find out more about their projects. He would demand to know more. The time for secrecy was over.
Chief Balbao, farcasts are disintegrating. There is no reply from Balol.
No reply.
No, sir.
And generally?
It is varied. Mintaka and the near systems are still responding, as are Scolar and a small cluster near them. Lostol and most of that sector are rimming.
What news of the supposed invasion?
Common cast is resonating with disinformation. Many channels say it is a hoax, and as many again report it to be true. May I suggest using the emergency frequency on the evacuation ship?
Excellent idea, moud. I’ll head there now. Inform security.
Balbao collected a water tube and some meat gnarls from his office cooler, and walked the distance to the EVAC ship. He needed the thinking time. His route took him past the labs and munitions lock-ups and onto the perimeter walkway. This particular boardwalk ran the circumference of the pseudo-world, the equivalent of a fire exit on a real building. On Belle-Monde though, all exits led to the EVAC ships – four of them, though one was undergoing maintenance.
Gravity was much lighter out here, and he managed the endless stairs without any real effort. Eating the gnarls was another thing entirely; he had to slide them into his mouth straight from the packet