“They fly altogether differently. You can tell from the wingbeats when they’re just coming into sight. My dad showed me.”
“I’ve run a stress analysis on Norwood’s voice. There’s the overlay of irritation, of course. But he’s sincere. He’s completely relaxed with himself; knows who he is, what he’s saying, what’s right, and he’s right.”
“That may all be, but it is not conclusive, nevertheless. We are not going to destroy UNAC and perhaps a great deal more on the basis of a supposition. Now, in a few moments, unless I can delay long enough, you’ll be speaking with Laurent Michaelmas, whom you would not be advised to underestimate, and —”
“Canada geese. They’re altogether different; they’re bigger, they beat slower. You know, by and large, the bigger the bird is, the less often it beats its wings. Sometimes I think that if you could see a pteranodon coming in out of the west at dusk, silhouetted against the sun, first you’d pick up the dot of its body, and then gradually you’d see little dark stubs growing out one to each side, as you began picking up the profile of the wings, and they’d never move. It would just get bigger and pick up more definition, and you’d see those motionless wings just extending themselves farther and farther out to the side, completely silent, just getting closer like it was riding a string from the top of the sky right to the bridge of your—”
“I don’t think I have to make these estimates. I’m an engineer, and I ran all the tests you’d want on that component. Now, I’m military, and I understand following orders, and I hope I’m capable of grasping big pictures. But there’s no way you’re going to get me to change my opinion on what it all means. Now, I know it’s a big Goddamned disappointment to you, and maybe a lot of the rest of the world, and maybe even to me. Pavel and I are good buddies, and this whole idea’s had a lot of promise. But I just don’t see it any way except that the boys in Moscow said, ”All right, that’s long enough playing nice and catching our breath, now let’s go back to doing business in the good old-fashioned way.“ And I don’t think it matters what you’d like to think, or I’d like to think, or how many good buddies we’ve got all over the world, I think we’ve got to face up to what really was done, and I think we’ve got to go from there. And damned quick.”
“Nevertheless, until superior authority tells you what is to be done —”
“Yes, sir, for as long as I’m detailed to serve under that authority, that’s exactly correct.”
“Signals. You know, everything that lives is constantly sending out signals. My dad pointed that out to me. It’s how animals teach and control their young, it’s how they mate, it’s how they move in groups from place to place. They’ve got these fantastic vocabularies of movement, cry, and odour. Any member of any species knows them all. It can recognize its own kind when you’d swear there was nothing out there, and it knows immediately whether that other creature is sick or well, at rest or frightened, feeding or searching, or whatever.”
“Mr Michaelmas, he’s going to resign and talk if he gets no satisfaction.”
“Yes.”
“They know all of that about each other all the time. I guess that’s about all there is to know in this world, really. Seems a shame the animal that signals the most seems to need individuals like me to help it along, and even so—”
“Even so,” Michaelmas said. “Even so, we’re the only animal whose signals can’t be trusted by its own kind.” He smiled. “Except for thee and me, of course.”
Harry Beloit smiled with awkward kinship. Then the plane tilted and he glanced out a window. “We’ll be in the Afrique approach pattern in a few moments,” he said. “I’m sorry—it seems as if Signor Frontiere’s and Colonel Norwood’s conference took longer than expected.”
“No matter,” Michaelmas said equably. “I’ll catch them in the limousine.” He waved a hand gently and turned. “Ours was a pleasant conversation.” He moved up the aisle until he reached Clementine. Putting one buttock on the armrest of the seat across the aisle, he smiled at her. She had been sitting with her eyes down, her lips a little pursed and grim. “A pleasant flight?” he said politely.
Domino snorted.
Clementine looked up at Michaelmas. “It’s a very comfortable aircraft.”
“How do you find working with Campion?”
She raised an eyebrow. “One is a professional.” It had very much been not the sort of question one is asked.
“Of course,” Michaelmas said. “I don’t doubt it. Since this morning I’ve made it my business to look into your career. Your accomplishments bear out my personal impression.”
She smiled with a touch of the wistful. “Thank you. It’s a day-to-day thing, however, isn’t it? You can’t remain still if you wish to advance.”
He smiled. “No. No, of course not. But you seem well situated. A very bright star in a rapidly growing organization, and now in one day you have credits with me and with a rising personality, both on a major story…”
“Yes, he is rising overnight,” Clementine said, unconsciously jerking her head toward the back of the plane. “Not a Campion but a mushroom,” she said in French.
Michaelmas smiled. Then he giggled. He found he could not control it. Little tears came to his eyes. Domino said, “Stop that! Good heavens!”
Clementine was staring at him, her hand masking her mouth, her own shoulders shaking. “Incredible! You look like the little boy when the schoolmaster trips.”
He still could not bring himself to a halt. “But you, my dear, are the one Who soaped the steps.”
They laughed together, as decorously as possible, until they had both run down and sat gasping. It was incredible how relieved Michaelmas felt. He was completely unconcerned that people up the aisle were staring at them, or that Luis, the camera operator, sat beside Clementine stiffly looking out the window like a gentleman diner overhearing a jest between waiters.
Finally, Clementine dabbed under her eyes with the tips of her fingers and began delving into her purse. She said: “Ah. Ah, Laurent, nevertheless,” more soberly now, “this afternoon there’s been something I could have stopped. You’ll see it tonight and say, Here something was done that she could surely have interrupted, if she weren’t so professional. ” She opened her compact and touched her cheeks with a powder pad. She looked up and sideward at Michaelmas. “But it is not professional of me to say so. We have shocked Luis.”
The camera operator’s lip twitched. He continued to stare out his window with his jaw in his palm. “I do not listen to private conversations,” he said correctly. “Especially not about quick-witted people who instruct in technique to something they call crew.”
Michaelmas grinned. “Viva Luis,” he said softly. He put his hand on Clementine’s wrist and said: “Whatever was done — do you think it serves the truth?”
“Oh, the truth, yes,” Clementine said.
“She means it,” Domino said. “She’s a little elevated, but simple outrage would account for that. There’s no stab of guilt.”
“Yes, her pulse didn’t change,” Michaelmas said to him, bending over Clementine’s hand to make his farewell. He said to her: “Ah, well, then, whatever else there is, is bearable. I had best sit down somewhere now.” Campion would be back down here in a minute, ready to discuss what was to be done as soon as they landed. “Au revoir”
“Certainement.”
“Daugerd checked his phone early,” Domino said. “It’s a terrible day for fishing; pouring rain. He’s returned Hanrassy’s call; she had something that needs his professional appraisal. He’s running his bass boat down to the Bagnell Dam town landing to meet that plane of hers. Bass boats are fast. His ETA at her property will be something like seven-forty her time — about half an hour after you deplane at Cité d’Afrique.”