For the first time, Orne began wondering if Stetson had lied, if this were part of some elaborate political in-fighting process with Stetson and friends at the heart of it. What if a cabal in the I-A were plotting a coup? No! He knew he had to stop looking for phantoms and proceed just by what he learned—datum by datum.
Polly glanced at her husband, said: “Scottie, you should take more pride in your office, I swear it. You’re an important man and it helps at times to reflect this.”
“If it weren’t for you, my dear, I’d be a nobody and prefer it,” Bullone said, smiling fondly at his wife.
“Oh, now, Scottie,” she said.
Bullone grinned at Orne, said: “Compared to my wife, Lewis, I’m a political idiot. Never saw anyone who could call the turn the way she does. It runs in her family. Her mother was the same way and her grandmother! Now, there was a true genius in politics.”
Orne stared at him, fork raised from the plate and motionless. A sudden idea had exploded in his mind. It couldn’t be! he thought. It just couldn’t be!
“You must know something of this political life, Lew,” Diana said. “Wasn’t your father once Member for Chargon?”
“Yes,” Orne murmured. “He died in office.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”
“It’s quite all right,” Orne said. He shook his head from side to side, still caught in the throes of his explosive idea. It couldn’t be, but… the pattern was almost identical.
“Do you feel all right, Lewis?” Polly asked. “You’re suddenly so pale.”
“Just tired,” Orne said. “Guess I’m not used to so much activity.”
Diana put her fork down, a stricken look on her face. “Oh, Lew! And I’ve been a beast keeping you so busy today, your first day out of the hospital.”
Bullone said: “Don’t stand on ceremony in this house, Lewis.”
Polly looked concerned, said: “You’ve been very sick and we understand. If you’re tired, Lewis, you go right on to bed. Perhaps we could bring you a little hot broth, later.”
Orne glanced around the table, met anxious attention in each face. They were really concerned about him and no mistaking it. He felt torn between duty and the simple demands of humanity. In their own context, these were warm and honest people, but if they… Confused, Orne pushed his chair back, said: “Mrs. Bullone…” then remembered she’d asked him to call her Polly. “Polly, if you really don’t mind…”
“Mind!” she barked. “You scoot along.”
“May we get you anything?” Bullone asked.
“No, no, really.” Orne stood, feeling rubbery in his knees and very aware of the better fit in his regrown kneecap.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Lew,” Diana said. She managed to convey both concern of a hostess in these words and something warmly personal, a private message. Orne wasn’t sure he wanted that private message.
“In the morning,” he agreed.
He turned away, thinking: Lord, what a desirable woman!
As he started down the hall, he heard Bullone say in a heavily paternal voice: “Di, perhaps you’d better not take that boy all over the place tomorrow. After all, he is here for a convalescent rest.”
Her answer was lost as Orne entered the hall, closed the door.
In the privacy of his room, Orne pressed the transceiver stud at his neck, said: “Stet?”
A voice hissed in his ears on the surf-beat carrier wave: “This is Mr. Stetson’s relief. Orne, isn’t it?”
“Yes, this is Orne. I want a recheck right away on those Nathian records the archaeologists recovered from Dabih. Find out if Sheleb was one of the planets they seeded?”
“Right. Hang on.”
There was a long silence, then: “Lew, this is Stet. How come that question about Sheleb?”
“Was it on the Nathian list?”
“Negative. Why’d you ask?”
“Are you sure? It’d explain a lot of things.”
“Sheleb is not on their lists… but, wait a minute.” Silence, then: “Sheleb is on the course-line cone to Auriga and Auriga was on their list. We’ve reason to doubt they put anyone down on Auriga. But if their ship ran into trouble…”
“That’s it!” Orne snapped.
“Stop using open voice!” Stetson ordered. “Subvocal only. They can’t tap this system, but they know it exists. We can’t have them get suspicious because you talk to yourself.”
“Sorry,” Orne said.
“I just knew Sheleb had to be…”
“Why? What’ve you discovered?”
“I’ve had an idea that frightens me,” Orne said.
“Remember that the women who ruled Sheleb were breeding male or female offspring by controlling the sex at conception. In fact, it was that imbalance which…”
“You don’t have to remind me of something we’d rather have buried and forgotten,” Stetson interrupted. “Why is that so important right now?”
“Stet, what if your Nathian underground is composed entirely of women bred in that same way? And what if their own men don’t even know about it? What if Sheleb were just a place which got out of hand because the women there had lost contact with their main element? They were an R&R discovery.”
“Holy Mother Marak,” Stetson said. “Do you have evidence to sub…”
“Nothing but a hunch,” Orne said.
“Can you get a list of the guests invited to the Bullones’ election party tomorrow?”
“Yes, we can get it. Why?”
“Examine it for women who masterminded their husbands in politics. Let me know how many and who.”
“Lew, that’s not enough to…”
“It’s all we have to go on at this point,” Orne said. He paused as a new thought struck him. “There may be one other thing. Don’t forget that the Nathians came from nomad ancestry. The traces will still be there.”
Chapter Fourteen
We have a very ancient saying: The more God, the more devil; the more flesh, the more worms; the more property, the more anxiety; the more control, the more that needs control.
Day began early for the Bullones.
In spite of its being election day, the High Commissioner took off for his office an hour after dawn, passing a sleepy-eyed Orne in the main hallway with a bright “Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?”
Orne admitted that he had slept well. He could see Diana and Polly standing in the main salon doorway.
“I have to be going,” Bullone said. “See what I mean about this damn job owning you?"
Diana came down the hall followed by Polly, both with questions about Orne’s health. They all went outdoors to see Bullone into his limousine flitter. The sky was cloudless and there was a smell of green plants in the air with a faint flower perfume.
“We’re going to take it easy today, Lew,” Diana said. “I’ve had my orders.”
She took his hand as they went up the steps after her father’s departure. Orne found himself enjoying her hand in his—enjoying the tactile contact far too much for his peace of mind.