ENTOVERSE

“Possibly. But probably not. My guess is that he was on the other side.’’

Hunt had not meant it as a response to her implied question; it had simply been his reaction to the prospect of the wrench that he could see her throwing into the works of cherished belief systems every­where, going back thousands of years and forming the foundations of entire cultures. What she was inferring threatened, in short, the demolition of virtually all traditionalism and the systems of authority based on it. Hunt did not want to guess at the outrage and unlikely closings of ranks which that would be likely to provoke. Perhaps he had been avoiding thinking about it himself because he had uncon­sciously glimpsed the implications.

“I, ah.. . I see now what you meant about getting into controver­sial subjects where you always end up upsetting somebody,” he said dryly.

“But you have to agree it gets interesting. Imagine—Euclid to Newton should have taken a couple of hundred years. How else might things have gone, do you think, if the Jevlenese had left us alone? Perhaps Newton would have formulated relativity. James

Watt could have invented the nuclear reactor. The Wright brothers might have flown the first starship. But instead, we got headed off into the Dark Ages.”

Hunt was staring at her with an intrigued expression. He had discussed such possibilities with colleagues often enough, but they were specialists, linked through their own circles. Gina had put the conclusions together independently.

She was about to continue, when the call-tone from the comnet terminal next to her interrupted. “Excuse me,” Hunt said, getting up from the recliner and coming across to answer it. Gina stood up and moved aside. The screen activated to reveal a head-and-shoulders view of two longish, gray-hued countenances with deep blue eyes, large pupils, and dark, neck-length hair. Only someone who had been in a coma or a hermitage for the last year could have failed to recognize them as Ganymeans.

“Hello, Vic,” the male said. His mouth movements did not syn­chronize with the voice, which had a natural human intonation. Ganymeans spoke at a deep, guttural pitch that was incapable of reproducing human speech faithfully. The voice was familiar to Hunt as one that ZORAC synthesized in its role as interpreter.

“Garuth. Good to see you,” he replied. “And Shilohin.”

“It’s been awhile now,” the female acknowledged.

Gina, intrigued, moved around to come closer to Hunt, which brought her into the lens angle. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had com­pany,” Garuth said. “I should have asked.”

“Don’t worry about it. This is Gina, a friend of mine. She writes books. Gina, meet Garuth and Shilohin.”

Gina was at a loss for a moment but recovered quickly. “Hello. I, er, I don’t get to do this every day.” The two Ganymeans inclined their heads in their customary greeting.

There were currently a number of Ganymeans at various places on Earth for various reasons, and Hunt guessed that Gina was assuming the two faces on the screen to be among them. Although it was no secret that the Thurien communications network managed by VISAR had been extended to Earth, only a few, select locations, such as Goddard, had connections into it. It would hardly have occurred to Gina that Hunt might have wrangled himself a private home extension. He made no mention of the fact, however, and asked casually, “So, how are things on Jevien these days?”

A hand flashed for an instant in front of Garuth’s face. “As a matter

of fact, not too good. That’s why we’re calling. We need some help on a problem that’s been developing here.”

“Oh really?” Hunt said. “What kind of—” The abrupt movement of Gina passing a hand across her brow made him look away.

“Wait a minute,” Gina whispered.

“Would you excuse us for a second?” Hunt said to Garuth.

“But of course. We intruded.”

Hunt looked inquiringly at Gina, his face an expression of forced innocence. She shook her head as if to clear it.

“Did you say Jevlen?” she asked.

“Yes. Garuth is the Shapieron’s commander. Shilohin is the chief scientist.’’

“Those people are on Jevlen—right now?”

“Of course,” Hunt said, maintaining his nonchalant air. “That’s where the Shapieron is.”

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