Part 26 (1/2)
”You mean is Gimma here? No, he isn't; he left yesterday. For Europe.”
”You're working. . . ?”
”Yes.”
There was a pause. I didn't know how he would take what I had to say to him -- I wanted first to find out what he thought of this world that we had come to. True, knowing him, I didn't expect a flood of words. He kept most of his opinions to himself.
”Have you been here long?”
”Bregg,” he said, without moving, ”I doubt that that interests you. You're stalling.”
”Possibly,” I said. ”Then I'm to say what's on my mind?”
I was beginning to feel again that awkwardness, something between irritation and shyness, that always came over me in his presence. I suspect the others felt the same thing. You never knew when he was joking and when he was being serious; for all his composure, the attention that he gave you, he was hard to figure out.
”No,” he said. ”Perhaps later. Where did you come from?”
”Houl.”
”Directly?”
”Yes. . . why do you ask?”
”That is good,” he said, as if he hadn't heard my question. He looked at me for maybe five seconds without moving, as if wanting to make sure of my presence. His expression said nothing -- but I knew, now, that something had happened. But would he tell me? He was unpredictable. While I wondered how I ought to begin, he studied me carefully, as though I had appeared before him in some unfamiliar form.
”What's Vabach doing?” I asked, when this silent scrutiny got to be too much.
”He went with Gimma.”
That was not what I meant, and he knew it, but, then, I hadn't come to ask about Vabach. Again, a silence. I was beginning to regret my decision.
”I hear that you got married,” he said suddenly, almost carelessly.
”Yes,” I said, perhaps too dryly.
”It's done you good.”
I searched for something else to talk about. Apart from Olaf, nothing came to mind, but I didn't want to ask about him yet. I was afraid of Thurber's smile -- the way he used to demolish Gimma with it, and not only Gimma -- but he only raised his brows a little and asked: ”What plans do you have?”
”None,” I replied, and it was the truth.
”And would you like to do something?”
”Yes. But not just anything.”
”You haven't done anything so far?”
I was definitely blus.h.i.+ng now. I was angry.
”Nothing. Thurber. . . I didn't come here to talk about myself.”
”I know,” he said quietly. ”It's Staave, isn't it?”
”Yes.”
”There was a certain element of risk in this,” he said, pus.h.i.+ng himself gently away from the desk. His chair obediently turned toward me.
”Oswamm feared the worst, especially later, when Staave threw away his hypnagog. . . You did, too, didn't you?”
”Oswamm?” I said. ”Which Oswamm? Wait -- the one from Adapt?”
”Yes. He was worried most about Staave. I pointed out to him his error.”
”What do you mean?”
”But Gimma vouched for both of you. . .” he concluded, as though he had not heard me.
”What?” I said, rising from the chair. ”Gimma?”
”Of course, he knew nothing,” Thurber went on, ”and told me so.”
”Then why the h.e.l.l did he vouch for us?” I burst out, confounded.
”He felt that he had to,” Thurber explained laconically. ”That the director of an expedition should know his men. . .”
”Nonsense.”
”I'm only repeating what he said to Oswamm.”
”Yes?” I said. ”And what was Oswamm afraid of? That we would mutiny?”
”You never had the urge?” Thurber asked quietly.
I reflected.
”No,” I said finally. ”Never seriously.”
”And you'll let your children be betrizated?”
”And you?” I asked slowly.
He smiled for the first time, twitching his bloodless lips. He said nothing.
”Listen, Thurber. . . you remember that evening, after the last flight over Beta. . . when I told you. . .”
He nodded indifferently. Suddenly my calm vanished.
”I did not tell you everything then, you know. We were all there together, but not on an equal footing. I took orders from the two of you -- you and Gimma -- I wanted it that way. We all did. Venturi, Thomas, Ennesson, and Arder, who didn't get a reserve tank because Gimma was saving it for a rainy day. Fine. Only what gives you the right now to speak to me as though you had been sitting in that chair the whole time? You were the one who sent Arder down on Kereneia in the name of science, Thurber, and I pulled him out in the name of his poor a.s.s, and we returned, and now it turns out that the a.s.s is the thing that counts, the other doesn't. So maybe now I should be asking you how you feel and vouching for you, not the other way around? What do you think? I know what you think. You brought back a pile of facts and you can bury yourself in them to the end of your days, knowing that none of these polite people will ask, 'What did this spectral a.n.a.lysis cost? One man, two men? Wouldn't you say, Professor Thurber, that the price was a bit high?' No one will say that to you because they do not keep accounts with us. But Venturi does. And Arder, and Ennesson. And Thomas. What will you use for payment, Thurber? Setting Oswamm straight about me? And Gimma -- vouching for Olaf and me? The first time I saw you, you were doing the same thing you are doing today. That was in Apprenous. You sat in the midst of your papers and stared, like now: taking a break from more important matters, in the name of science. . .”
I got up.