‘And the ultimate descendant of that smudge is what we hope to capture – one day, starting from now!’
We all clapped. Even Euclid clapped.
Somehow I felt depressed.
Even when I had my babe back in my arms, a feeling of my insignificance in the scheme of things persisted. To arrange for Jon Thorgeson to come at last and give his lecture on the Omega Smudge was a welcome diversion.
Paula Gallin helped me in the early stages. She found a small lecture hall we could use. Lectures made in person had proved more vital than lectures delivered over the Ambient – though I had no suspicion regarding the way this one was going to turn out. While I had forgotten about Jon in my preoccupation with dear Alpha, he had not forgotten his promise.
‘Ah, my little honeypot!’ was his greeting. I made no retort because it was pleasant to see his young-old face light up at sight of me. He was followed into the anteroom by a porter trundling a large man-size crate. Once it was set down, and was stood upright, Jon thumped it.
‘There’s someone in here who can see what we are doing. Give me a kiss before I let him out.’
I put up my hands defensively. ‘No, I don’t do that sort of thing.’
‘I wish you did,’ he said, with a sigh. I was angry. The truth was, he was attractive after a fashion; it was just that his manner was so pushy. In a burst of confidence, he told me that he had left a Chinese lover back on Earth. I was a physical reminder to him of this lady. He longed to get back to her. He was miserable on Mars; it was for him a prison. ‘Sorry to offend you,’ he said, with a hangdog look.
He turned and unlatched the box the porter had brought. ‘This is my visual aid,’ he said, over his shoulder. The door of the box opened. A small android stepped out from its padded interior.
‘Where am I?’ it asked in a lifelike way.
‘On Mars, you idiot.’ Turning to me, Jon said, with mock-formality, ‘Cang Hai, I’d like you to meet my friend, Euclid.’
‘I have met him before,’ I said, although no recognition was forthcoming from the android.
I offered Euclid my hand. It did not move. Nor did its well-moulded face manage more than a twitch of smile.
‘It’s one of Poulsen’s cast-offs,’ said Jon. ‘I borrowed it for the occasion. It’s house-trained.’
I remembered it then as one of the machines Poulsen had complained about. The android was dressed in blue overalls, much as Thorgeson was dressed. Its hair was cut to a fashionable length, unlike Jon’s which was trimmed short. Its face wore a blankly pleasant expression which changed little. Jon clapped it on the shoulder.
There was something in its extreme immobility I found disconcerting. It had no presence. It gave out no CPS. It lacked body language.
Jon turned to me with a grin. ‘Kathi tells me you are a mother now! Was it a virgin birth?’
‘Change the conversation. It’s none of your business. You didn’t come here to be insulting, I hope.’
He shrugged, dismissing the topic. ‘All right, you invited me over just to talk science. And when I get in that hall, I am going to talk about the continuing search for the ultimate smudge. All miseries forgotten.’
‘Let’s go. The audience is waiting. How long will you talk for?’
‘My lecture is designed for ten-year-olds,’ said Thorgeson. ‘Euclid helps to hold their interest through the technical bits.’ He caught my wrist. ‘Do you think the audience knows anything of the past history of particle physics?’ As he spoke, he slid an arm about my waist.
‘I think you can count on it,’ I said, disengaging myself.
‘Oh, good. Then I had better not go into all that too much. How long have I got to talk?’
‘Until you lose their interest. Now come on and don’t be nervous.’
He was anything but nervous with me. ‘Be nice to me,’ he begged. ‘I only came over to see you again.’
I told him not to be silly. But I was not completely annoyed.