She got out of the taxi and hurried through the storm. The door swung open, and he handed her a hot chocolate. “Well,” he said, “did we get everybody off safely for Goompah country?”
“I hope so. How’s Maureen?”
“Asleep. She missed her mommy. I don’t think she likes the way I read George.” That was a reference to George Monk, the garrulous chimp.
The hot chocolate was good. Inside, he had a blazing fire going. She set the cup down and shook the snow off her jacket.
“It’s all over the networks,” he said. “The talking heads don’t think much of your chances.”
“They’re probably right.” She was about to sit when the house AI (named for the chimp, or maybe it was the other way round) sounded the chime that indicated an incoming call.
“Who is it, George?” Tor asked.
“Academy watch officer. For Hutch.”
“That’s odd,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that would be about.” Actually she could: Her first thought was that the al-Jahani had developed a problem already.
Jean Kilgore’s face appeared on-screen. “Hutch?”
“Yes. What do you have, Jean?”
“I wanted to let you know Harold is in the hospital. Apparently it’s serious.”
She needed a moment to understand. “What happened?” she asked. “How is he?”
“Heart attack. They took him to Georgetown. It happened this afternoon.”
“Do you have anything on his condition?”
“No, ma’am. Only what I told you.”
“Okay.”
“He went home early. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”
“Thanks, Jean.” She was headed toward her closet for a fresh jacket.
“Jenny Kilborn says he’s been on heart medication for years.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know.”
“But they didn’t think it was that serious. If he was having trouble, he doesn’t seem to have told anyone. Jenny talked with somebody at the hospital. Or maybe the police. I’m not sure which. They said his neighbor couldn’t get her front door open because of the snow. He went over to help her dig out.”
Great. Guy with a heart condition. “Thanks, Jean.” She’d have to change her shoes. “George, get me a cab. And connect me with that aunt of his, the one who lives in Wheaton.”
SHE COULDN’T GET through to the aunt, whom she’d met once, years before. She was, as far as Hutch knew, Harold’s only relative in the area. But the traffic director informed her she was offline. Apparently one of those people who did not carry a commlink. Well, Hutch could understand it. If she ever got clear of the Academy, she’d think about ditching hers.
All attempts to get information from Georgetown also went nowhere. “He’s been admitted,” the hospital told her. “Other than that we don’t have anything at the moment.”
Twenty minutes after leaving Woodbridge she settled onto the roof of the Georgetown Medical Center. She climbed out, momentarily lost her balance on the snow-covered ramp, and hurried down to the emergency room receiving desk.
The aunt was there, standing in a small circle of worried-looking people. Mildred. Her eyes were red.
Hutch introduced herself. Mildred smiled weakly, stifling tears. There was also a female cousin, a neighbor, a clergyman, and Charlie Wilson, one of the people from the lab. “How is he?” she asked.
Charlie looked steadily at Hutch and shook his head.
NEWSDESK
RECORD COLD IN MIDWEST
Temperature Hits Fifty Below in St. Louis
WCN SENDS PEACEKEEPERS TO MIDDLE EAST
Train Bombed by Iniri Rebels
TIDAL WAVE KILLS HUNDREDS IN BANGLADESH
Triggered by Collapsing Island
SINGH DEFEATS HARRIGAN FOR HUMAN CHESS CHAMPIONSHIP
First Off-Earth Title Match
DOCTOR ALVA ACCEPTS PERUVIAN MEDAL
Honored for Efforts During Bolus Outbreak
WOMAN KILLS FOUR IN NEW HAMPSHIRE BAR
Claims Devil Was On the Way to Snatch Their Souls
RECESSION ENTERS THIRD QUARTER
Unemployment Up Seventh Straight Month
SIX KILLED AT BELGRADE CONCERT
Grandstand Gives Way During Beethoven Fair
DEALY GUILTY
Billionaire Convicted On All Counts
Victims Demonstrate Outside Court
Civil Suits Pending
Faces Character Reconstruction
SANASI CALLED BEFORE CONGRESS
Expected to Take Fifth
Martin Says No to Deal
ALIENS IN DRACO
Primitive Civilization Under Cloud
Natives Resemble Goompahs
PART TWO
goompahs
chapter 9
Arlington.
Saturday, March 15.
HAROLD NEVER REGAINED consciousness, and was pronounced dead at 4:32 A.M.
Hutch was still there when the word came, trying to provide what support she could to Mildred and the cousin. She notified the lab watch officer and listened while the doctor said he was sorry, there was really nothing they could have done.
He was 106. Mildred explained that the doctors had wanted to give him a synthetic heart a few years back, but he’d refused. She wondered why. He’d always seemed rational. And he had everything to live for: He seemed content with his work and was respected around the world.
“He was alone,” Mildred said. Tears leaked out of her eyes. She looked relatively young, but she was Harold’s aunt so she, too, was past the century mark.
Hutch came out of the hospital under a sky still dark and cold, wondering why she hadn’t seen it coming, why she hadn’t stepped in. She’d never invited him to the house. Not once. Despite the fact they’d eaten lunch countless times, that she’d confided in him when she’d gotten frustrated with the job. And he’d always told her to calm down, everything would be okay. It’ll pass. It was his favorite line. Everything passes.
Tor’s parents lived in Britain, and her own father was long dead. Harold would have made a superb substitute grandfather for Maureen, if Hutch had only known. Had only thought.
So she stood in the access station, watching the last few flakes drifting across the rooftop. Probably windblown, she decided, suspecting the snow had stopped. Banks of the stuff were piled up around the landing pads.
Harold gone. It was hard to believe.
Her link sounded. It was Tor. “What’s happening?”
“We lost him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“About a half hour ago.”
“You okay?”
“Yes. I’m on my way home now.”
“All right. I’ll have some breakfast waiting.”
“No. Nothing for me, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
A taxi descended, a woman got out, and Hutch’s commlink sounded, alerting her it was her cab. She climbed in, and the harness descended on her. And the thought she’d been pushing aside for the last two hours settled in beside her. Harold, what are the omegas?
A medical unit drifted down onto the far end of the roof, where the emergency pad was located. She gave the taxi her address and settled back.
It lifted off, turned south, and picked up speed toward the Potomac.
SHE USUALLY WORKED a half day Saturdays, especially when things were happening, which was pretty much all the time. She’d been at her desk less than an hour when the report came in. The Gallardo had inspected a cloud out near Alpha Cassiopeiae and found another hedgehog. The circumstances were the same: It was out front, same course, same velocity. Six and a half kilometers in diameter. Preliminary scan suggested it was an identical object. The only thing different was its range from the cloud, only fifteen thousand klicks.
The two sites were hundreds of light-years apart.