* * *
So, for a while, Clifford was free to pursue his own research without interruption. But although he had dreamed of a life in which he could devote all of his hours to his own work using facilities like ACRE’s and without the mundane distractions of other tasks, now that it had come about he found the job far from satisfying. He was being used to foster other men’s ambitions, and that irked him. His brain, it seemed, was useful, but he didn’t fit with the team.
* * *
One morning Clifford stood by the window of his office, contemplating the view outside while mentally going over his schedule of activities for the day, when a sudden shadow in the sky above caused him to glance up. A medium-size aircar bearing the markings USAF was slowing down to hover above the executive parking area preparatory to landing. He watched as the vehicle completed its descent and a half-dozen or so dark-suited figures emerged, disappeared into a waiting limousine, and were whisked out of sight around the corner of the building toward the main entrance of ACRE’s Admin Block. He noticed too that several other aircars were already parked near where the one he had seen had landed. An hour or so later, when he was on his way through the Admin Block to collect some books he had requested from the library, he noticed two armed military policemen stationed outside the door of the Main Conference Room.
“What’s going on?” he asked Paul Newham, one of the senior mathematical physicists, later on in one of the cafeterias over lunch.
“Oh, just another closed-doors meeting, I guess,” Newham told him.
“Another one?”
“Washington bigwigs. They’ve been coming and going all week. Must be something big in the wind; Jarrit’s been involved in all of them from what I hear. You didn’t know?”
Clifford sat frowning uneasily with his fork frozen in midair.
“No, I didn’t,” he said slowly. “So, what’s it all about?”
“Haven’t a clue. Bill Summers did ask around but was politely advised to mind his own business. I guess whatever is going on doesn’t concern the likes of us, Brad.” Newham started to drink his coffee and then looked up suddenly as if he had just remembered something. “Although Edwards’s secretary did mention something when she was having a drink with one of the guys the other day. What did he say she said now . . . ? Something to do with k . . . k . . . k-something or other. Didn’t ring a bell at the time.”
* * *
Two days after that, Sarah mentioned that she had made an Infonet call to Lisa Clancy, the wife of Clifford’s former tutor at CIT and an old friend of the family. Lisa had told her that Bernard—her husband—was due to travel to New Mexico to attend a scientific conference of some kind. He hadn’t been very forthcoming as to exactly where he was going or what the purpose of the conference was, but she had a feeling that the meeting might be at ACRE. Eager to renew his old acquaintanceship and, perhaps, at last to get access to some inside information, Clifford called Bernard that same evening.
“Well . . . that’s a bit difficult, Brad . . .” Bernard’s face contorted with visible discomfort as he looked out of the screen. “It’s a pretty tight security issue . . . know what I mean? Don’t get the wrong idea, I’d love to see you again but . . .” he shrugged and made an empty-handed gesture. “you know how it is.”
“Hell, I don’t want to know what your business is,” Clifford protested. “All I wanted to know was if you’d be in the area and if so, whether we could get together for a beer.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bernard was looking acutely embarrassed but at the same time helpless. “It’s awfully nice of you to think of it, but really . . . I can’t. Some other time when I’m traveling that way socially, sure, but . . . this’ll be business and the schedule’s pretty tight.” Bernard suddenly tightened his features into an expression of seriousness. “Give my regards to Harry Cottrill if you see him around there.” Then he relaxed. “Well, gotta go, Brad. Nice to hear from you again. Keep up the good work, eh? Look us up if you find yourselves back in California. Regards to Sarah.”