Freddy found Bianco in ELM. Bianco floated with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed in concentration while a fellow Italian chattered about data displayed on a computer monitor. Freddy wanted to avoid entering ELM itself. Chakra Ramsanjawi had a history of complaining to Tighe about intruding crewmen, and Freddy could see the Indian lurking in his office at the far end of the module. Fortunately, Bianco’s attention wandered toward the hatch.
At first, Bianco ignored Freddy’s hand signals. When Freddy became more insistent, he broke away from the conversation. Freddy could read the reluctance in the old scientist’s eyes. Nothing a crewman said could possibly be of any interest to Bianco. Freddy decided on a direct approach.
“Mr. Welch says hello,” he whispered when Bianco was within hearing range.
“Who?”
“Mr. Welch. Hugh O’Donnell’s friend. You spoke to him before comin’ up here.” Freddy paused until recognition sharpened Bianco’s features. “We gotta talk.”
“Yes, we must. Excuse me.” Bianco sailed back to the Italian and spoke with emphatic hand gestures that obviously were instructions. Then he joined Bianco in the connecting tunnel. “Where shall we talk?”
“My compartment,” said Freddy.
Freddy’s compartment was completely bare of decoration except for a crucifix that floated at the end of a heavy gold chain clipped to the wall over his sleep restraint. Freddy motioned for Bianco to be silent, then turned up the volume of the stereo. The music had a Latin beat. Bianco winced.
“Mr. Welch very interested in O’Donnell’s lab,” said Freddy. He spoke directly into Bianco’s ear and carefully kept his voice below the music.
“I imagine he would be,” said Bianco.
“I was at your meetin’ this morning. You didn’ sound like you knew what to do with the lab.”
“That is correct. I still do not.”
“Is no one’s business what’s in there.”
“Perhaps not,” Bianco said. “It is difficult to tell without knowing exactly what it is.”
“Can’ say. Is very important. Sensitive,” said Freddy, placing equal stress on each syllable.
“Sensitive enough to commit murder over it?” Bianco’s eyes bored into Freddy.
Surprised at the meaning of the old man’s words, Freddy answered, “Hey, I din’ do it! I wanna find out who did.”
“Yes,” said Bianco. “Of course.”
The man was angry, Freddy saw. As if the murder had taken one of his own family.
Bianco said, “Mr. Welch told me he had a watchdog up here with O’Donnell. Are you the only one?”
Freddy nodded with a slight tilt of his head as if to say, At your service.
Bianco eyed him carefully—the stump, the well-muscled torso, the gold canine embedded in a grin that was tired, almost bored. Freddy certainly was capable of strong-arming him, but he had not made any threatening moves. He was polite, even deferential. It was obvious he sought cooperation rather than confrontation. And why not? With O’Donnell exiled to the station’s astronomical observatory, Freddy was alone in his mission.
“The toxic-waste project that my people are working on is very important,” said Bianco. “It does not qualify as a state secret; in fact, much of the world does not seem to care. In my official capacity, I can prevent the American team, or anyone else, from taking over that lab. But it would be at the expense of my project. I would like to know exactly why I am being so compliant with your Mr. Welch.”
Freddy considered the offer for a long moment.
“Hokay, Senor Bianco,” he finally said. “I tell you. You familiar with the work of a Professor Rothstein on tobacco plants?”
Bianco furrowed his brow as if sifting through his memory.
“About ten years ago,” prodded Freddy.
“Was that the antisense RNA treatment to prevent the production of nicotine in tobacco leaves?”
“You say that good,” said Freddy. “What O’Donnell doing is jus’ like that, only different.”
Kurt Jaeckle remained in his office for a long time after reading Carla Sue’s reply to his apology. He slipped out of the Mars module and peered into the wardroom. Only a few stragglers remained from lunch, but it was still too crowded for his present state of mind. Deciding to kill some time in his compartment, he made his way down the connecting tunnel.