“Hell, the problem’s political,” Keene grumbled. “How is it supposed to get solved if we can’t mention it?”
Stevie reappeared carrying a plastic mug of black coffee and handed it to him. Keene nodded, sipped to test the heat, then took a longer drink gratefully. “But you’re right,” he told Joyce. “I should know better by now. It’s gotten to be something of a reflex, I guess.”
“Falling into patterns of habit is normal with advancing age,” she assured him cheerfully.
“Thanks. Just what I needed.”
The supervisor called over to them. “They’re on hold now, Joyce. Do you want it through there again?”
“Yes, we’re done with Pacific,” Joyce called back over the consoles. “You’ve got another call waiting,” she told Keene. He drank from his coffee mug again, as if fortifying himself. “Oh, I think you’ll like this one,” Joyce said. She gazed expectantly at the test pattern on the screen. It changed suddenly to present a face once again, this time a woman’s.
Keene blinked in surprise. “It’s Sariena!” he exclaimed.
She was in her early thirties, perhaps, with the finely formed features combining just the right amount of firmness with a softening of feminine roundness that fashion modeling agencies and cosmetics advertisers will scour a continent for. Her hair was shoulder-length, richly dark with a hint of wave at the tips, and her skin a clear dusky brown, setting off a pair of light gray, curiously opalescent eyes which at first sight jarred with such a complexion, but produced a strangely fascinating effect as one adjusted to them. Keene could have pictured her as an Arabian princess of fairy tale, or a rajah’s daughter. And that was just from electronic images; they had never actually met. For Sariena was not of Earth at all but from Kronia, the collective name for the oasis of human habitation established among the moons of Saturn. The name came from Kronos, the Ancient Greek name for Saturn, who had ruled the heavens during Earth’s Golden Age.
“Hello, Lan,” she greeted. “And is that Joyce with you there?”
“I’m here,” Joyce put in, coming closer.
“Ah yes, it is.” Sariena’s smile was restrained enough to preserve dignity, wide enough not to appear cold. “I just wanted to let you know that the shuttles are in orbit with us now, and we’ll be on our way down to the surface later today, arriving in Washington this evening.”
“Sorry if I’ve been out of touch,” Keene said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, as you’ve probably gathered.”
Sariena was aboard the Kronian long-range transporter vessel Osiris, now parked in Earth orbit after a three-month voyage from the Saturnian system. In that time, the communications turnaround delay had decreased steadily from over two hours when the ship set out. With preparations for the NIFTV demonstration taking up all his time, Keene hadn’t talked with the Kronians at all during the past week. Now, suddenly, it was a pleasant change to find himself able to interact with them normally.
“Yes. We all thought that show of yours today was terrific,” Sariena said. “The timing was perfect. It’ll give us a good opening theme for the talks. Gallian asked me to say thanks, and that he’s looking forward to meeting you in person at last too.” Gallian was the head of the Kronian mission.
“You should thank the Air Force Space Command more than us,” Keene replied. “They picked today for their test. We just went along with it.”
“So do you have any idea yet when we’ll be able to meet you?” Sariena asked.
“Well, you’re probably going to be tied up with formal receptions and so forth for a while,” Keene said. “I try not to get involved in things like that. But I’ve made time to be in Washington for a few days, starting Monday. We could probably work something in then.”
“I’ll let Gallian know,” Sariena said.
Besides being a consultant to Amspace in Texas, Keene also acted as an advisor on space-related nuclear issues to various government offices, and maintained a Washington office for the purpose. He evaluated official reports and proposals, prepared recommendations, and testified before committees. A lot of congresspeople and other denizens of the Hill also consulted him privately for off-the-record views and background details. Most of them were better informed on issues that concerned them than the required public posturing sometimes allowed them to admit.