“We could clear that matter up in an hour as you suggest. That would make dinner a far more relaxing and enjoyable occasion
later.”
Heller had to swallow hard to maintain her composure. He was propositioning her. Such things happened and that was life, but the way this was happening wasn’t real. “I think you must have misjudged something,” she told him curtly. “If you have business to discuss, I’ll talk to you in an hour. Now would you excuse me please?” If he left it at that, it would all soon be forgotten.
He didn’t. Instead he moved a pace closer, causing her to back away a step instinctively. “You are an extremely intelligent and ambitious, as well as an attractive, woman, Karen,” he said quietly, dropping his former pose. “The world has so many opportunities to offer these days-especially to those who succeed in making friends among its more influential circles. I could do a lot for you that you would find extremely helpful, you know.”
His presumption was too much. “You’re making a mistake,” Heller breathed harshly, striving to keep her voice at a level that would not attract attention. “Please don’t compound it any further.”
Sverenssen was unperturbed, as if the routine were familiar and mildly boring. “Think it over,” he urged, and with that turned casually and rejoined the group he had left. He’d paid his dollar and bought a ticket. It was no more than that. The fury that Heller had been suppressing boiled up inside as she walked out of the room, managing with some effort to keep her pace normal.
Norman Pacey was waiting for her when she reached the U.S. delegate’s offices a few minutes later. He seemed to be having trouble in containing his excitement over something. “News!” he exclaimed without preamble as she entered. Then his expression changed abruptly. “Hey, you’re looking pretty mad about something. Anything up?”
“It’s nothing. What’s happened?”
“Malliusk was here a little while ago.” Gregor Malliusk was the Russian Director of Astronomy at Bruno and one of the privileged few among the regular staff there who knew about the dialogue with Gistar. “A signal came in about an hour ago that isn’t intended for us. It’s in some kind of binary numeric code. He can’t make anything out of it.”
Heller looked at him numbly. It could only mean that somebody else, either somewhere on Earth or in its vicinity, had begun
transmitting to Gistar and wanted the reply kept private. “The Soviets?” she asked hoarsely.
Pacey shrugged. “Who knows? Sverenssen will probably call a special session, and Sobroskin will deny it, but I’d stake a month’s pay.”
His voice didn’t carry the defeat that it should have, and what he had said didn’t account for the jubilant look that Heller had caught on his face as she entered. “Anything else?” she asked, praying inwardly that the reason was what she thought it might be.
Pacey’s face split into a wide grin that he could contain no longer. He scooped up some papers from a wad lying in front of the opened courier’s bag on a table beside him and waved them triumphantly in the air. “Hunt got through!” he exclaimed. “They’ve done it via Jupiter! The landing is already fixed for a week from now, and the Thuriens have confirmed it. It’s all arranged for a disused airbase in Alaska. It’s all fixed up!”
Heller took the papers from him and smiled with relief and elation as she scanned rapidly down the first sheet. “We’ll do it, Norman,” she whispered. “We’ll beat those bastards yet!”
“You’ve got a recall to Earth from the Department so you can be there as planned. You’ll be getting space-happy with all these lunar ifights.” Pacey sighed. “I’ll be thinking about you while I’m holding the fort up here. I only wish I was coming too.”
“You’ll get your chance soon enough,” Heller said. Everything looked bright again. She lifted her face suddenly from the papers in her hand. “I’ll tell you what-tonight we’ll both have a special dinner to celebrate. . . a kind of farewell party until whenever. Champagne, a good wine, and the best poultry the cook here’s got in his refrigerator. How does that sound?”