'That's one of many effects,' he replied as they settled into their chairs, 'but you have to be careful to treat all the irregularities, all the perturbations.'
'How does the rotation come in?' she asked.
'Well, here, I'll show you.' Runyan retrieved his computer output from the ground where he had left it and turned it over on his lap to write on the blank side. He pulled out a pen and carefully blocked out a set of equations. Danielson scooted her chair around close to his so she could see.
Gantt returned an hour later and found them in an animated discussion of orbit perturbations. He did not follow the details, but it was clear to him that Danielson was holding her own with Runyan, giving him pause with penetrating questions and occasionally adding a twist other own. Although the discussion was purely intellectual, Gantt could sense the electricity between the two. Alex is well into stage two, he thought, black hole or no. Then a question of the generation and propagation of seismic waves arose, and Gantt pitched into the discussion as well.
They were still at it when the dinner bell sounded. Runyan and Danielson lagged behind as they headed for the mess tent.
'Listen,' Runyan said quietly, leaning over towards her, 'there's not much to do here in the middle of god's country, but how about an evening stroll after things cool off. The desert can be quite beautiful then.'
Danielson turned her head to look up into his eyes, light flashing within the dark aura of his hair and beard. She wanted to be alone with him.
'That sounds very nice,' she said, holding his gaze for a moment. Then, with a new energy, they moved to catch up to Gantt.
After supper Runyan and Danielson joined Gantt at his tent in the fading evening light. Despite the lingering heat, they went inside the tent where Gantt switched on a generator-fed bulb. They discussed their current position and laid plans for the immediate future. Although the major point they had sought to check seemed well settled, they agreed that Gantt's station should remain in operation to compile a precise record of the behaviour of the object. Danielson would return and report to Isaacs and redouble the effort to discover the hypothesized point of origin. Runyan would report to Phillips and resume his orbital calculations. Gantt again profferred his bottle of bourbon, and they drank a nightcap to seal their arrangement. Danielson excused herself. Runyan followed a few minutes later.
Runyan pushed aside the tent flap and stepped out. The acrid aroma of tarpaulin mingled with the wafted delicate fragrance of greasewood. The clean dry air was warm and enveloping, as if you could shuck your clothes and drink it in through every pore. Runyan waited for his eyes to adjust, then turned towards Danielson's tent, a sense of anticipation beginning to tickle his loins. He peered through the darkness towards her tent, some forty paces away on the other side of the one erected for him, but could only make out the vaguest outlines. Then he saw her, waiting for him in the deepest shadow. The familiar feeling of sweet power flooded him, and his mind filled with images of her warm curves, putting flesh to the dim silhouette he could barely perceive as he approached.
Danielson watched the figure picking his sure way in the dark. She had the irrational feeling that the ground would open up and swallow him before he reached her. It didn't. He stopped a pace from her, his strong presence palpable even at the distance. She felt an urge to reach out and touch him, but he made no motion and neither did she.
He lingered a moment savouring the invisible aura between them, then whispered, 'Let's head out this way.'
He pointed to the rudimentary road that led to one of the outlying sites. They walked carefully out of the campsite and onto the road. The moon was nearly full, casting faint shadows. Danielson found that at their strolling pace she could walk easily, with only part of her attention on the rocky road-bed. She looked around and up. Away from the moon the pure desert sky was almost a solid blanket of stars.
'It's so lovely,' she whispered.
As she looked upward and outward the trauma of the afternoon receded and an overpowering expansiveness filled her. She reached for Runyan's arm and bugged it in both her hands, pulling him close to her. After several paces he freed his arm and encircled her waist. She slipped her arm across his back and leaned her head on his shoulder.
They walked on, speaking little, each lost in thought, awash in awareness of the other. Runyan estimated they had walked a half hour when he said, 'I think we better head back.'
'I suppose we should,' she replied, her voice hinting regret. She felt something slipping by, something she didn't want to lose. As they turned around in the darkness she tugged at his sleeve to halt him. He turned towards her, and she gripped his other sleeve as well, facing him, arms open, body exposed.
He raised his arms to encircle her shoulders, drawing her into a gentle embrace. She cradled her head against his chest, arms around his waist, and stared down at the earth beside them. She thought again of the shattering event of the earlier afternoon, of the miniscule horror hurtling beneath their feet. Somehow, she felt this man was her protector, the sole barrier between her and the ferocious void. She lifted her head to look into his eyes. The shadows on his face were portals to a vast emptiness which she had to keep at bay. She moved her face closer to his so his features were clear, the shadows muted. She opened herself to a feeling she knew had been growing. She wanted this man. The world seemed large and empty. She needed to be with him, to hold to his firmness and strength.
She stretched to kiss him, feeling the prickle of his moustache and beard as he responded. Their lips brushed. A cool current raced through their bodies at the touch of sensitive flesh on flesh. He cupped her jaw and neck, fingers lightly tangled in her hair, kissing her deeply, drawing a dormant passion up and out.
They walked as quickly as they could back to the camp, pausing for another prolonged kiss when the interval grew too long to bear. The camp was dark and quiet when they returned.
Outside her tent she embraced his neck and stood on tiptoe for one more lingering kiss before crossing the threshold. An image of the ludicrously narrow cot flashed in her mind. They could throw the thin mattress on the tent floor. She broke their kiss, found his hand, and brushed her lips across his palm. Then she pushed aside the tent flap and, still holding his hand, led him in. Runyan stooped to follow her, a small smile playing on his lips.
Chapter 15
Viktor Korolev forged down the sidewalk with long solid strides, his black mood radiating ahead, parting grumbling pedestrians like the bow wave of a ship. They had offered him a ride, but he needed to walk to work off his frustration.
So the Americans had done it! This inconceivable dung. He'd had to lay his proof before the generals. After that, none of his bellowing power could dissuade them from narrow thoughts of retribution. Granted the Americans were formally at fault, this thing was too different to be handled with old-fashioned polarized modes of behaviour. Good arguments, to no avail.
Korolev thought of his message to Zamyatin, a meagre return for gifts received. The American would rue the day he had proffered his insights, seeking help. Korolev sighed. Had this Robert Isaacs not catalyzed events, the day of reckoning would only have been postponed.
Korolev slowed his pace, frustration waning, pushed aside by the need to develop a constructive response. He began to mentally list others in the power structure to whom he could take his case for moderation, cooperation. Whatever the generals plotted now, he hoped it would involve no loss of life.