Anderson, Poul – Avatar. Part five

XXV

Today Ira Quick held off Toronto’s winter by a recording, played on the giant viewscreen, of York Minster. It was not static but moved slowly around the delicate facades, soaring and intricate vaults, glowing windows of that loveliest of medieval churches. Tuned down to bare audibility, yet losing none of its might, a Gregorian chant gave background. The show was a reminder of what man, Earthbound and alone, had achieved: the heritage now menaced by inhumanness. It strengthened him in his resolution.

Simeon Ilyitch Makarov, premier of Great Russia, sat across from his desk. He had flown here incognito at Quick’s urgent request. “You are the most powerful individual in our group,” the North American had said, “and the two of us are the most determined. We’re at a crisis point, I’m afraid; we have to confer and decide. I shouldn’t be more specific over the phone, scrambler or no.

And I can’t come to you. All my present lines of communication center on this office.”

Arrived, Makarov lit an atrocious cigarette, inhaled hard, and demanded in accented Spanish, “Well, what have you to report?” He was a stocky individual with a walrus mustache and thin gray hair, his garb unfashionable and rumpled, a survivor of combat in the civil wars which had sundered his country, his existence ever since consecrated to its eventual reunification.

“No knowledge you don’t already possess. You’re as well aware as I that Chinook is approaching the T machine, scheduled to arrive in about three hours.

That’s why I must stay put. Someone has to give new orders in case something unforeseen happens.” Quick slapped his palm down. “Christ! Transmission time of more than twenty minutes!”

“Yes, our group agreed you are best positioned to take that responsibility. Why do you suddenly want me to share it?”

“You do in any case, Sr. Makarov.” Quick frowned. “There is one new development, I hope unimportant. I learned about it while you were on your way.

I’ve been kept personally informed about the San Geronimo Wheel. The fact that a pet research project of mine is supposed to be going on there is sufficient Side 102

Anderson, Poul – Avatar, The excuse. Troxell doesn’t send any details by laser, of course, but he is supposed to beam a periodic Àll’s well’ signal. It’s overdue.”

“That could be bad!”

“Or it could be plain carelessness. He’s grown less than punctual; the isolation, the strain are getting to him and his men. I don’t think I should send an immediate inquiry – too conspicuous, makes me look too concerned – right when Chinook demands my total care.” Quick paused before he added weightily:

“And yet analysis of radar data shows the ship used quite a peculiar, uneconomical boost pattern to get onto the path we required. It had her effectively in the radar shadow of the Wheel – given that astronomical distance, plus the electromagnetic shielding – for hours.”

Makarov grunted as if struck. “Why did you not tell the rest of us at once?”

Quick sighed. “I only found out lately. Please understand, sir, we, I must proceed with caution. As is, too many people are involved. If I call for information on a top priority basis, they will speculate why. If I lay stress on a particular question, they will speculate further.”

“Hunh! I’ve gotten things better organized in Great Russia.”

“That’s a major reason why you are so valuable, so critical to our effort,” you barbarian tyrant.

“Precisely how much information has leaked, what kind, and to whom?”

Quick spread his hands. “Precisely’ is an impossible requirement. I am, as I said, not dealing with a handful of disciplined men like yours, whose silence is guaranteed. I’ve done my best to keep you au courant, as well as I can follow events myself.”

“Yes. I do, though, have many different matters claiming my attention.

Suppose you summarize for me, whether or not you have already described a specific item.”

Is he playing with me? Or is he, underneath a peasant shrewdness, basically a dullard? This isn’t what I need him for today… I do need him. I must oblige. Maybe, several years hence- Quick arrayed the facts in his head and began:

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