Part 3 (1/2)

I doubt it, Peter, so look your eyes full of her. We'll see about an official visit later. Admiral Coetzer knows of your part in the Bangladesh emergency.

”There is no way to keep the politicians and the orators away from such a fine opportunity to exercise their own voices,” Dave said quietly, in answer to Peter's spoken question. ”Especially during an election year.”

”Don't remind me,” Rhyssa said with a mock groan.

With no thanks to the President for his presentation, Barchenka began to enumerate the problems that she had had to overcome from day one of her a.s.signment as Manager.

”She had to overcome?” Peter whispered, disgusted. had to overcome?” Peter whispered, disgusted.

”Well, she did,” Rhyssa said, adding sourly, ”even us.”

Barchenka appeared determined to recite every one of the obstacles in the path of the successful completion of the first World s.p.a.ce Station. She phrased her words as an indictment of those who did not spring willingly to her aid when first approached.

”'Accosted' is more like it,” Dave said softly behind his hand. Rhyssa could not help a wry grin.

She says nothing about our our help, help, Peter 'pathed sullenly to Rhyssa. Peter 'pathed sullenly to Rhyssa.

Did you expect her to? General John Greene asked from his seat among the military, on the far side of the auditorium. General John Greene asked from his seat among the military, on the far side of the auditorium.

If it weren't for us, Peter said angrily, Peter said angrily, she wouldn't have finished on time, or ever. she wouldn't have finished on time, or ever.

But she did, Johnny reminded him. Johnny reminded him. And I'm not sorry I helped. And I'm not sorry I helped.

She still should give us credit.

Peter, Rhyssa replied firmly, Rhyssa replied firmly, never will she give us any credit No one does, and frankly, I'm all for anonymity. About ninety-nine percent of the indigenous population of Earth is afraid of psionic never will she give us any credit No one does, and frankly, I'm all for anonymity. About ninety-nine percent of the indigenous population of Earth is afraid of psionic abilities. abilities.

Why? Peter frowned at his friend and mentor. Peter frowned at his friend and mentor.

Because, lad, the parapsychic are different, said the distinctive voice of Australian Lance Baden, said the distinctive voice of Australian Lance Baden, and you, in particular, are much safer being anonymous. and you, in particular, are much safer being anonymous.

I don't want credit, Peter protested, turning his head to the left, in Lance's direction. Peter protested, turning his head to the left, in Lance's direction. But you and the other Talents who got stuck up here deserve it. But you and the other Talents who got stuck up here deserve it.

We don't expect it, Johnny said in a blithe tone. Johnny said in a blithe tone. Nor do we want it from that source. Ooops, well, she's taking credit for reducing loss of life on the Station, too. Now to Nor do we want it from that source. Ooops, well, she's taking credit for reducing loss of life on the Station, too. Now to that I'll that I'll take exception. take exception.

Peter was probably the only one who was aware that it was the General who ”reached out.” Even Peter didn't at first realize what John Greene had done with that slight kinetic pulse. Suddenly Barchenka was scowling down at the prompter screen from which she had been reading her speech. She paused, scowled, lifted her hand to adjust dials, at first calmly, but when nothing seemed to improve, she thumped the screen in several places. Then, her expression registering fury, she slewed partway around and imperiously beckoned to someone standing at the back, below the stage.

”Wait,” she said bluntly to the audience, clearing her throat and stepping aside as the technician hurried to a.s.sist her.

Peter hid the irreverent grin behind his hand. Will she get it back? Will she get it back?

How would I know? Laughter rippled in Johnny's mental voice. Laughter rippled in Johnny's mental voice.

Peter watched as the technician made several adjustments, turning at last with a nervous smile for Barchenka and indicating he had fixed the problem. When she again took her place and looked down at the screen, she called him back.

What did you do, Pete? Rhyssa asked without looking at her prize student. Rhyssa asked without looking at her prize student.

Me? Peter's expression was so surprised that Rhyssa had to believe him as he lifted his hand toward his chest in an att.i.tude of offended innocence. Peter's expression was so surprised that Rhyssa had to believe him as he lifted his hand toward his chest in an att.i.tude of offended innocence.

The audience began to get restless, s.h.i.+fting feet, clearing throats, and looking anywhere but at the glowering Barchenka. She was having words with the technician and he was still trying to adjust the screen to solve the problem. Whatever it was.

A woman, dressed in the s.p.a.ce Station's new black uniform, rushed out carrying a replacement unit. Music flowed out of the audio system, to bridge the pause in the program. The defective unit was removed quickly and with no fumbling and the replacement installed. Barchenka's speech disk was inserted and the two technicians stepped back, out of her way. The music faded.

”Boje moi! ” were her first words. ”The disk has been corrupted.” She glared around at the technicians as if they were responsible. The woman, after a brief hesitation, stepped forward and murmured to the Manager. Barchenka flapped her hand about in an angry rejection. She turned back to the lectern long enough to eject her disk, and with a furious glare at the a.s.sembled, stormed off the platform and out of the auditorium. Somehow she left the impression that, if the door had not been automatic, it would have slammed shut. were her first words. ”The disk has been corrupted.” She glared around at the technicians as if they were responsible. The woman, after a brief hesitation, stepped forward and murmured to the Manager. Barchenka flapped her hand about in an angry rejection. She turned back to the lectern long enough to eject her disk, and with a furious glare at the a.s.sembled, stormed off the platform and out of the auditorium. Somehow she left the impression that, if the door had not been automatic, it would have slammed shut.

The master of ceremonies launched himself at the lectern, tapping the tiny microphone to be sure he was audible.

”Sorry about that but let's give Manager Barchenka the ovation she deserves.”

That she might not be able to hear through the thick panel did not register with him. His script required him to ask for an ovation. He did so. Very few dutifully stood and the enthusiasm of a genuine ovation was noticeably lacking, The guests on the platform, as if they wished to provoke a more lively partic.i.p.ation from the audience, were the last to cease bringing their hands together.

The master of ceremonies c.o.c.ked his head, obviously listening to an engineer's report. He smiled and leaning tentatively over the lectern, said: ”I've been a.s.sured that we're back on-line, distinguished guests. I'm sure we're all sorry that some green gremlin,” and he paused to see if everyone responded to his little joke, ”has denied us the rest of Manager Barchenka's stirring speech but, as she so often did after the, ah, minor setbacks, let us proceed.” He turned slightly and spread his hand invitingly to Admiral Coetzer who would now address the audience in his capacity as the newly appointed Station Manager.

Rhyssa was suddenly aware that what the a.s.sembled had heard of Barchenka's speech had not actually confirmed that transition of authority.

If the admiral seemed to hesitate briefly as he inserted his speech disk into the prompter, his face mirrored a little pleased smile when the process appeared to be successful. He began to speak in a crisp voice. He immediately mentioned the many, many agencies whose workers had generously given their time, skill, and thousands of work-hours to see this worldwide dream come true. He made special note of those whose work had been conscripted from the international Linear Labor Pool and happily announced that 32 percent of the ”casual workers” had elected to stay on the Station as maintenance crew.

No other speaker experienced any difficulty with the prompting screen and they kept their remarks laudably brief. The special music composed by a Russian for this occasion marked the end of the formal part of the program and finally the master of ceremonies invited the audience to adjourn to the reception area.

Just what did you do, Pete? Johnny asked in a tight 'path as he homed in on Rhyssa, David, and Peter, emerging from the crowd making for the refreshments. From another direction, Supreme Court Justice Gordon Havers joined his fellow psychics. Johnny asked in a tight 'path as he homed in on Rhyssa, David, and Peter, emerging from the crowd making for the refreshments. From another direction, Supreme Court Justice Gordon Havers joined his fellow psychics.

Peter eyed the general speculatively. Banging her fist on the prompter wasn't a good idea. Possibly even scrambled her text. Banging her fist on the prompter wasn't a good idea. Possibly even scrambled her text.

Good thinking.

Peter did grin at the wordplay.

”Greene!” and the harsh voice stopped both the general and Peter in their tracks. Barchenka, her face set with anger, pulled Johnny Greene around by the arm. Alarmed, Peter stepped backward, trying to disappear into the throng. But others were as quick to leave the Manager's presence and Peter was halted, unable to move or willing to teleport. ”How did you get up here? How did you scramble my screen?” she shouted, thrusting her fist up under the general's nose. She was so intent in confronting him that she failed to notice Rhyssa fade behind Dave's tall figure, pulling Peter with her. and the harsh voice stopped both the general and Peter in their tracks. Barchenka, her face set with anger, pulled Johnny Greene around by the arm. Alarmed, Peter stepped backward, trying to disappear into the throng. But others were as quick to leave the Manager's presence and Peter was halted, unable to move or willing to teleport. ”How did you get up here? How did you scramble my screen?” she shouted, thrusting her fist up under the general's nose. She was so intent in confronting him that she failed to notice Rhyssa fade behind Dave's tall figure, pulling Peter with her.

”I, Madame Barchenka? I did no such thing,” Johnny replied honestly, pus.h.i.+ng her fist down and away, an action she tried unsuccessfully to resist.

”You have the capability,” she continued, saliva spattering Johnny's face. Then she imperiously clicked her fingers over her shoulder. ”Scan him, Grushkov,” she ordered her telempath, hovering indecisively behind her. ”Is he telling the truth? Let's hear you deny it now, Greene!” She folded her arms across her chest and glared up at the kinetic general, her complexion scarlet under her s.p.a.cer's beret. ”Then you will tell me how you got invitations and who gave them to you.”

Peter wondered if he could un.o.btrusively teleport himself anywhere but where he was, half hidden behind Dave Lehardt's broad frame. How Rhyssa had prevailed against the Manager as long as she had showed the depth of Rhyssa's courage.

”I most certainly did not scramble the Manager's screen,” General John Greene said, looking steadily at Grushkov. ”My invitation came from the Secretary of s.p.a.ce himself in appreciation of my a.s.sistance in getting much-needed supplies to the Station, and on time.”

Grushkov was immediately disconcerted. ”Madame Barchenka, he is telling the truth. Furthermore, his public mind is completely open.”

If John Greene and Peter saw the telempath blink and give John a closer look, Barchenka did not notice the exchange, her bulging eyes fixed on Johnny's face.

”Awrgh,” she exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely, clenching her fists and waving them about in frustration. Then she barreled forward, shoving into Dave's shoulder and pus.h.i.+ng Peter aside with a bruising sweep of her arm. Johnny exerted a kinetic prop as the boy was momentarily off balance. Barchenka stomped onward, swinging her arms from left to right to clear her way to the long bar set up on one side of the reception room.

Grushkov muttered apologies to everyone so rudely handled as he and Barchenka's other white-coat aides followed in her wake.

I'm sorry now I helped her in any way, Peter said as Rhyssa, Dave, and Johnny ringed him against any other contact. Peter said as Rhyssa, Dave, and Johnny ringed him against any other contact.

She didn't bruise you, did she? Rhyssa asked, concerned. Peter was much st.u.r.dier now than he had been when he had joined the Parapsychics, but he was still susceptible to contusions. Especially when he was not, as now, using any s.h.i.+elds to prevent physical contact. Rhyssa asked, concerned. Peter was much st.u.r.dier now than he had been when he had joined the Parapsychics, but he was still susceptible to contusions. Especially when he was not, as now, using any s.h.i.+elds to prevent physical contact. Uncouth woman! Uncouth woman!

I've half a mind to spike her drink, Johnny murmured, glancing across the catering unit. Johnny murmured, glancing across the catering unit.