said.
“You certainly seemed to know about Titan long before most of us did,” Massey
said. He stared down over the rim of his cup. “What was the deal—unlimited media
hype and complete suppression of all competent reporting to make you the
superstar of the century?” His voice conveyed disappointment rather than
contempt. “Or was it the other way round—threats . . . everything over for you
if you refused to go along with them? But that was a long time ago now, from a
much narrower perspective—before we left Earth and before anyone knew what we
all know now. All I’m asking you to do is see the big picture and think about
the real implications.”
Zambendorf brought his hand up to his face and stared down at the floor in
silence for a while. Then at last he emitted a long, weary sigh and looked up
between his fingers. “Look,” he said. “I’ve got a feeling I’m wasting my breath
saying this, but I didn’t know any more about where this ship was going than you
did, until after we embarked in orbit. What I did find out, I found out myself
by my own methods. When I agreed to come on this mission, I thought we were
going to Mars. I accepted the usual kind of publicity deal, sure, but as far as
I was concerned it was to do with the kind of stunt GSEC had been talking about
sponsoring on Mars—not anything serious. I didn’t know anything about any
aliens, or any of the things you’ve been talking about.” He stood up and moved
past Massey to help himself to coffee.
Massey glanced questioningly back at Price while Zambendorf was filling his cup.
Price could only return a helpless shrug. “It’s strange,” Massey said to
Zambendorf. He paused and tilted his head curiously to one side. “For once I get
the feeling that you’re telling the truth. Either you’re the most accomplished
liar I’ve ever met—and I’ve met more than a few—or there’s something very screwy
going on. I’d like to believe what you just told us.”
Zambendorf tired suddenly of the feeling of being scrutinized under a
microscope. “Well, why won’t you believe it, then?” he demanded loudly, turning
away and sounding annoyed. “What reason would I have to lie about something like
this? If you must know, I was offered such a deal only recently. I turned it
down. There, does that satisfy you?”
“You turned it down,” Massey repeated, not quite able to prevent a trace of
mockery from creeping into his voice.
Zambendorf wheeled back again. “I turned it down.” He forced the words out
slowly and deliberately, thrusting out his beard to within an inch of Massey’s
face.
“Very likely the best offer you’ve ever had in your life, and maybe the best
you’ll ever get,” Price drawled sarcastically from behind them. “With everything
going for it, and all the right people lined up on your side . . . and you
turned it down. Now, why would you want to do a thing like that?”
“My reasons are my reasons,” Zambendorf said. “What damn business is it of
either of you?”
“When you’re helping people who are trying to condemn a whole race to
second-class status to further their own interests and claiming that they’re
acting in my name, it is my business,” Massey retorted.
Zambendorf colored visibly. “For God’s sake, I haven’t done anything to help
them!” he shouted. “I turned their offer down. How many times do I have to say
it? What’s the matter with the pair of you?”
“Why would you turn it down?” Massey asked again.
“What is this? I refuse to be cross-examined in this fashion.”
“Bah! . – . just as I thought,” Massey snorted.
“He’s copping out,” Price murmured. “He has to. He’s in with them up to his
neck.”
“Doesn’t it occur to you that you may not have a monopoly on all this touching
humanitarian concern for your brother beings?” Zambendorf raged. “If you must
know, I turned it down for the simple reason that I care what happens to the
Taloids just as much as you do … even more, possibly. Do you understand that?