“I don’t really fit in with organizations. Let’s just say I have a lot of friends.”
“Interesting friends,” June put in. “If you ever need a strange job done, or an expert on something weird, Kieran probably knows just the right person.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
Kieran had been observing a gray-haired man in a blue windcheater, who was hovering a short distance away, inside the entrance from the bar. He had been walking past in the direction of the lobby, seen them, and changed direction to enter. Now he was making tilting movements with his head, as if trying to draw attention without intruding. “Is that a friend of yours?” Kieran asked Sarda, inclining his head.
Sarda looked across. “No,” he said simply. But the gray-haired man apparently took Sarda’s look as an invitation and came over.
“Leo! Good to see you again. Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was just leaving, saw you in here, and wanted to say hi.”
Sarda frowned. “I’m sorry. Do I know you . . . ?”
“Well, sure . . .” The man looked puzzled. “Walter . . . Walter Trevany—the geologist. We met here a week or two back. I’m staying at the hotel.”
Sarda shook his head. “You must be mistaken.”
Trevany forced an uneasy smile, as if offering an out if Sarda was joking. “We were through there in the bar. You were with a woman, Elaine: tall, slim, curly black hair. . . .”
Again, Sarda shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone of that name.”
“You’re not exactly an easy person to get confused over. . . .” Trevany’s words trailed away as he saw that Sarda was uncompromising. He looked appealingly at the other two. Kieran sympathized, but there was nothing he could do to help. “Well, excuse me. I didn’t mean to crash in.” Trevany turned and walked back toward the lobby entrance, pausing halfway to turn for a moment in the manner of someone who knew he wasn’t mistaken. Then he disappeared. Sarda looked back at his two companions and shrugged.
And Kieran knew that he was being absolutely honest also. Yet at the same time, he had caught a flicker of uncertainty in Sarda’s eyes. June raised her eyebrows expertly in a way that could have meant anything and attended to her meal. Kieran sat back in his chair to muse on the situation. It was very odd. At the same time, he had no doubt that it was immensely significant. Just at that moment, however, he had no idea what to make of it.
* * *
He continued musing on the incident through the rest of the afternoon. If it was a first hint surfacing of some problem with the experiment, should the “deactivation” scheduled for midnight be postponed? But he wasn’t going to put it to Sarda, who would hardly be thrilled at the idea. So should they go and talk to the Morches? On the other hand, Sarda might have had reason for covering up something personal, in which case interfering could result in no end of trouble.
“I say we simply go along with them,” June opined after they had talked it through for the umpteenth time. “If all their tests and experts say things are fine, and those are the standards they accepted to go by, who are we to argue? How much of the rest of the world’s problems can you be expected to take on?”
Kieran agreed, finally. They left it at that.
6
Kieran finished his coffee and looked across the kitchen area. It was the following morning, back at the apartment. “I really hope Leo doesn’t go and have an accident or something now,” he said to June, who was putting on her coat, filling Teddy’s food dispenser, and trying to unglue Teddy from her feet, all at the same time. “I mean, with his bridge burned, so to speak, it would be a bit unfortunate, wouldn’t it?” Sarda had rushed back to Quantonix after lunch the previous day, since things there were apparently still hectic. Kieran and June had continued with their day of relaxation. As far as they knew, the “deactivation” of the original had proceeded at midnight as scheduled.