“They were given free passages,” Aileen said, obviously pleased at being able to impart the news.
Garamond shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true, Vance. They say Starflight House is giving free travel to anybody who signs on for Lindstromland within the first six months.”
“It’s a trick.”
“Oh, Vance!” Aileen’s eyes were reproachful. “Why don’t you admit you were wrong about Elizabeth? Besides, what sort of a trick could it be? What could she hope to gain?”
“It’s a trick,” Garamond said stubbornly. “What she’s done isn’t even legal — the teams from the Government land agencies haven’t got here yet.”
“But you always say the law doesn’t mean anything to the Lindstroms.”
“Not when they want to take something. This is different.”
“Now you’re being childish,” Aileen snapped.
“He isn’t,” Napier said. “Take our word for it, Aileen — Liz Lindstrom never acts out of character.”
Aileen’s face had lost some of its natural colour. “Oh, you know it all, of course. You know all about how it feels for a woman to lose her only…” She stopped speaking abruptly.
“Child,” Garamond finished for her. “Don’t hold anything back for my benefit.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…” Lenses of tears magnified Aileen’s eyes as she walked out of the room.
The two men finished their coffee in silence, each dwelling on his own thoughts. Garamond wondered if the sense of pointlessness which was silting through his mind was due to his having to stand by helplessly while the President imposed her will on Orbitsville, or if it sprang from the slow realization that he was out of a job. The entire Stellar Exploration Arm had become superfluous because there was no need for the big ships to search the star fields ever again. Could it be, he wondered, that I existed only for the search?
With an obvious effort at diplomacy, Napier began discussing the work being carried out by the Starflight research teams. Despite the use of more sophisticated and more powerful cutting tools than had been available on board the Bissendorf nobody had even managed to scratch the shell material. At the same time, studies of the inner shell were indicating that its movement was not a simple east-west rotation, but that subtle geometries were involved with the object of producing a normal progression of day and night close to the polar areas. Another team had been working continuously on the diaphragm field which prevented the atmosphere from rushing into space through the kilometre-wide aperture in the outer shell. No significant progress had been made there, either. The force field employed was unlike anything ever generated by human engineers in that it reacted equally against the passage of metallic and non-metallic objects. Observations of the field showed that it was lenticular in shape, being several metres thick at the centre. Unlike the shell material, it was transparent to cosmic rays and actually appeared to refract them — a discovery which had led to the suggestion that, as well as being a sealing device, it was intended to disperse cosmic rays in such a way as to produce a small degree of mutation in Orbitsville’s flora and fauna — if the latter existed. In general, the field seemed more amenable than the shell material to investigation because it had proved possible to cause small local alterations in its structure, and to produce temporary leaks by firing beams of electrons through it.
“Interesting stuff, isn’t it?” Napier concluded.
“Fascinating,” Garamond said automatically.
“You don’t sound convinced. I’m going to have a look at the new arrivals.”
Garamond smiled. “Okay, Cliff. We’ll see you for lunch.”
He got to his feet and was walking to the door with Napier when the communicator set, which had been connected to the central exchange by a landline pending a solution of the radio transmission problem, chimed to announce an incoming call. Garamond pressed the ACCEPT button and the solid image of a heavy-shouldered and prematurely grey young man appeared at the projection focus. He was wearing civilian clothing and his face was unknown to Garamond.
“Good morning, Captain,” the stranger said in a slightly breathless voice. “I’m Colbert Mason of the Two Worlds News Agency. Have any other reporters been in touch with you?”
“Other reporters? No.”
“Thank God for that — I’m the first,” Mason said fervently.
“The first? I didn’t know Starflight had authorized transportation for newsmen.”
“They haven’t.” Mason gave a shaky laugh. “I had to emigrate to this place with my wife more or less permanently, and I know other reporters have done the same thing. I’m just lucky my ship disembarked first. If you’ll give me an interview, that is.”
“Have you been off-world before?”
“No, sir. First time, but I’d have gone right round the galaxy for this chance.”
Garamond recognized the flattery but also found himself genuinely impressed by the young newsman. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“What did I…?” Mason spread his hands helplessly. “The lot! Anything and everything. Do you know, sir, that back on Earth you’re regarded as the most famous man ever? Even if you’d answered the tachygrams we sent you we’d still have considered it worth while to try for a face-to-face interview.”
“Tachygrams? I got no signals from Earth. Hold on a minute.” Garamond killed the audio channel and turned to Napier. “Elizabeth?”
Napier’s heavy-lidded eyes were alert. “I’d say so. She didn’t like your views on how Orbitsville should be handled. In fact, I’m surprised this reporter got through the net. He must have been very smart, or lucky.”
“Let’s make him luckier.” Garamond opened the audio circuit again. “I’ve got a good story for you, Mason. Are you prepared to run it exactly as I tell it?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Come straight out to my place.”
“I can’t, sir. I called you because I think I’m being watched, and there may not be much time.”
“All right, then. You can report that in my opinion the potential of Orbitsville is…”
“Orbitsville?”
“The local name for Lindstromland…” Garamond stopped speaking as the image of the reporter broke up into motes of coloured light which swarmed in the air for a second before abruptly vanishing. He waited for the image to re-establish itself but nothing happened.
“I thought it was too good to be true,” Napier commented. “Somebody pulled out the plug on you.”
“I know. Where do you think Mason was speaking from?”
“Must have been from one of the depot stores. Those are the only places where he’d have any access to a communicator set.”
“Let’s get down there right now.” Garamond pulled on a lightweight jacket and, without waiting to explain to Aileen, hurried from the house into Orbitsville’s changeless noon. Christopher looked up from the solitary game he was playing in the grass but did not speak. Garamond waved to the boy and strode out in the direction of the clustered buildings around the aperture.
“It’s bloody hot,” Napier grumbled at his side. “I’m going to buy a parasol for walking about outdoors.”
Garamond was in no mood to respond to small talk. “It’s getting too much like Earth and Terranova.”
“You won’t be able to prove the call was blocked.”
“I’m not even going to try.”
They walked quickly along the brown dirt road which threaded through the scattering of residences and reached the belt of small administrative buildings, research laboratories and windowless storehouses which surrounded the aperture. The black ellipse began to be disjointedly visible through a clutter of docking machinery and L-shaped entry ports. Garamond was no longer able to think of it as a lake of stars — now it was simply a hole in the ground. As they were passing an unusually large anonymous building his attention was caught by sunlight glinting on a moving vehicle — one of the few yet to be seen on Orbitsville. It stopped at the entrance to the building, four men got out and hurried inside. One of them had a youthful build which contrasted with his greying hair.