“Is there a Mr. Corrigan?”
“This is Joe Corrigan speaking.”
“Good morning. My name is Ulsen. I work with Mr. Sylvine, at the Advisory Office of Advanced Technology in Washington. . . .”
“Yes! Good morning. Could you hold for a moment?” Corrigan covered the mouthpiece and made waving motions. “Sorry, Barry, but I have to take this inside right now. Can I catch you later?”
“Sure. But we need to go over the initialization checklist for tomorrow.”
“It may have to be postponed with this other business. I’ll let you know later this morning.”
“Okay.” Barry shrugged and turned to leave, just as Judy reappeared from the direction of the conference room.
“Judy, can you switch this through? I need to take it inside,” Corrigan said as she came back to her desk. She nodded as she sat down, and tapped a couple of keys. Corrigan went into his office and picked up. “Hello? Mr. Ulsen?”
“Yes. You left a message yesterday for Mr. Sylvine to call you?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, he’s out of town right now and not due back for some days. Can you tell me what it’s about? Maybe I can help.”
Corrigan thought quickly. Seventeen or eighteen hours had gone by since he had made the call from Main Reception, when he and Lilly returned to Xylog the evening before. In the world outside, that would be a little over five minutes. Sylvine had no doubt decoupled after the dinner the evening before that (an additional seven minutes earlier) to make his report, which was why he wasn’t replying. Although “Ulsen” might not necessarily be playing an active role in the simulation, he was coupled into the system, since he was able to synchronize with Corrigan. But he would be a temporary liaison, there to provide a contact of sorts; he would be able to disconnect and talk to the outside.
Corrigan said curtly, “Look, whoever-you-really-are. No bullshit, okay? I know the score. The memory erasure of the first run didn’t work. Get this whole thing terminated immediately. Do you understand?”
There was a long, creaking pause. “I’ll have to consult—”
“Consult, nothing. There isn’t anything to consult about. In case you aren’t aware of it yet, one of the surrogates just checked himself out. The rest can follow. Whoever’s behind this are facing enough lawsuits to paper CLC’s Head Office with already. You tell them that it stops now! Out.” Corrigan slammed down the phone and stood looking at it. He was conscious of a feeling of anticlimax. So that was it? After all the talk, all that he had been able to do amounted to no more than issue a demand into a phone and hang up. And now, back to the interminable waiting. All of a sudden, Hatcher’s uncompromising solution was beginning to look clean and decisive by comparison. Not prepared even to consider the demeaning passivity of waiting, he had gone straight over to the offensive. Probably he was causing consternation outside, right at this moment. Anything that Corrigan might do now would be merely a supporting action.
Then the sound of new voices came from outside the office door, which Corrigan had left open. He looked away from the desk and saw that Harry Morgen and Joan Sutton had arrived. Morgen was talking to Judy and pointing at a configuration on her screen that looked from a distance like Corrigan’s call-log format. Sutton was standing behind him, gazing about at the surroundings as if she had never seen them before. Then Morgen, in the process of uttering something, brought his right hand up to touch his temple with a finger in an odd, flicking motion, vaguely suggestive of a lazy salute. Corrigan had seen that mannerism before somewhere.
Corrigan walked slowly across the office and stopped in the doorway, studying them. Neither they nor Judy had noticed him yet.
Then he remembered where he had seen that temple-touching mannerism before: Zehl! Dr. Zehl had had the same unconscious habit. And, therefore, Graham Sylvine—since Corrigan had already concluded that they were the same person. So Morgen had been the outside controller who had masqueraded as Zehl and Sylvine. That much made sense—Morgen was a firm Tyron follower. The only thing that didn’t answer was if this Morgen was another animation re-created from system profiles, like Pinder and Barry Neinst, or a projection of the real person, coupled in. If he was real, then maybe Corrigan had his channel to the outside standing here, right in front of him.