chapter fourteen
“Look, I know I don’t have any right to interfere in your private life, and I’m not trying to,” Norman Pacey said from an armchair in his private room at Bruno some hours after Sobroskin had talked to him about Janet. He tried to make his voice reasonable and gentle, but at the same time firm. “But when it gets to the point where I get dragged in and it affects the delegation’s business, I have to say something.”
From the chair opposite, Janet listened without changing expression. There was just a trace of moisture in her eyes, but whether that was due to remorse, anger, or to a sinus condition that had nothing to do with either, Pacey couldn’t tell. “I suppose it was a bit silly,” she said at last in a small voice.
Pacey sighed inwardly and did his best not to show it. “Sverenssen should have known better anyway,” he said, hoping that it might be a consolation. “Hell-look, I can’t tell you what to do, but at least be smart. If you want my advice for what it’s worth, I’d say forget the whole thing and concentrate on your job here. But it’s up to you. If you decide not to, then keep things so that they don’t give Malliusk anything to come bitching about to us. There-that’s as frank as I can be.”
Janet stroked her lip with a knuckle and smiled faintly. “I’m not sure if that would be possible,” she confided. “If you want the real reason why it’s bugging him, it’s because he’s had this thing about me ever since I came up here.”
Pacey groaned under his breath. He had felt himself slipping into a father role, and her responding to it. Now her whole life story was about to come pouring out. He didn’t have the time. “Oh Jesus. . .” He spread his hands appealingly. “I really don’t want to get too involved in your personal life. I just felt there was an aspect that I ought to say something about purely as the U.S. member of the delegation. Suppose we simply leave it at that and stay friends, huh?” He pushed his mouth into a grin and looked at her expectantly.
But she had to explain everything. “I guess it was just that everything here was so strange and different. . . you know.
out here on the back of the Moon.” She looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know . . . I suppose it was nice to meet someone friendly.”
“I understand.” Pacey half-raised a hand. “Don’t imagine you’re the first-”
“And he was such a different kind of man to talk to. . . . He understood things too, like you.” Her expression changed suddenly, and she looked at Pacey in a strange way, as if unsure about voicing something that was on her mind. Pacey was about to stand up and bring the matter to a close before she turned the room into a private confessional, but she spoke before he could move. “There’s something else I’ve been wondering about .
whether I ought to mention it to somebody or not. It seemed okay at the time, but. . . oh, I don’t know-it’s been kind of bothering me.” She looked at him as if waiting for a signal to go on. Pacey stared back without the slightest indication of interest. She went on anyway. “He gave me some micromemories with some additional data in for appending to the transmissions that Malliusk has been handling. He said it was just some extra trivial stuff, but . . . I don’t know . . . there was something strange about the way he said it.” She released her breath sharply and seemed relieved. “Anyhow, there-now you know about it.”
Pacey’s posture and manner had changed abruptly. He was leaning forward and staring at her, a shocked look on his face. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized that what she had said was more serious than she thought. “How many?” he demanded crisply.
“Three. . . The last was early this morning.”
“When was the first?”
“A few days ago . . . more maybe. It was before Karen Heller left.”