"I wonder how long they'll take to get here?"
"Don't hold your breath waiting. Even by air it's a long journey. There's nothing more we can do about it for now. You said something about getting hold of an old mine detector or something of that sort, didn't you?"
"Yes. It could save a lot of time, if the things will work under water."
"I don't think we'd have to send for that," said Arthur Kinnaird happily. "Taro Tavake at the radio station can probably make one, considering his war background in the Solomons. I'm positive he knows how they work, from things he's said. I'll talk to him tomorrow."
Bob was appropriately gratified. "Good," he said brightly. "That seems to set us up for now. When the diving gear comes we'll have to make more detailed plans, but that will be a while."
"One thing," his mother put in. "Once you start work, when do you get all these things done? And who, besides your father, dives with you? You'll both have working hours which won't leave very much time free for this. Have you given any thought to taking Old Toke into the secret and having him assign you the job of finding spaceships? That would simplify a lot of things."
"We've thought of it and talked about it a lot, Mom. For now we've decided against it-only partly because I'm so much against telling anyone. Toke Thorvaldsen and his son both have a lot of influence, since they are PFI, and the Hunter's regulations apply a good deal more stiffly to people like them than they do to us."
"Even though it would improve our chances of saving your life?" the woman insisted. "Believe me, we've thought it over, Mom. There are risks each way, and I've settled which ones I prefer. The Hunter agrees with me. I may be wrong, but that's the way I want to play it."
"And, as you kindly refrain from pointing out, it is your own game. Very well, Son, we'll try to play it on your side. You'll forgive us for worrying."
5. When in Doubt, Ask
Jenny reached the boat at almost the same moment as Bob and the Hunter. She nodded approvingly at his costume, almost exactly like her own-slacks, long-sleeved shirt, coolie hat, and old sneakers as protection against the coral. Unlike the man, she was carrying a mesh bag containing fruit.
"I don't expect much trouble finding what I want," Bob said as he noticed the food. "I wasn't counting on having to stay all day."
"I hope you're right," she answered, "but I'll still be happier if we have it with us. Now, are you going to tell me what we're looking for, or am I just the taxi driver?" She was letting Bob carry the kayak this time and he was silent until it was in the water and they' had climbed in. His first words were not an answer to her question.
"What did you find out from your father?"
"Nothing. I didn't ask him anything, and there's nothing in your medical record that helps."
"You looked at it, then."
"I told you I would."
"All right, here's the deal. I'll tell you the whole story, taking my chances that you'll decide I'm a fruitcake-only remember your dad can back it all up-if you'll fill me in on this fire-lighting business you started off with yesterday morning. I have to admit I'm wondering about that. All right?"
"Then the question did mean something to you."
"It certainly did. It fits into what I have to tell you, if that helps."
Jenny paddled silently for several strokes, and when she spoke it was not a direct answer.
"I wouldn't have said that was a fair deal for you if you hadn't made that last remark," she said at last. "I never thought the fire question was very important, though I've been wondering about the answer for years. Maybe there's more to it than I thought, though, if it ties into a life-and-death matter for you. Anyway, here's the story from my side.
"I suppose you know the desChenes family-at least, you met Andre yesterday. Their father used to be on a tanker crew, but they gave him a shore job when his wife died seven years ago having a baby. There are two older children-Andre is the first- and a lot of us have taken care of them at one time or another. I'm afraid we haven't done the best job in the world, because Andre, to put it simply, is a-pure pest. He really likes to bother and even hurt people. I know most kids go through that stage, but you expect them to be long past it by the time they're eleven. I think he's over the edge myself, but Dad says he's just had some unfortunately timed shocks and should get over it.
"Anyway, he thinks practical jokes are funny- really practical ones, like hot pennies down the neck trip-strings on stairs, not just water buckets over the door. I've had one badly sprained ankle, at least half a dozen falls that didn't do so much damage, and I've put out three fires in the yard around his |house-never inside, to give him credit. About four years ago-I was only fourteen, and it was the first time I'd had the kids all by myself while Mr. desChenes was at work-was the first of the fires, and of course I tried to explain to him why that wasn't such a good idea. He told me very solemnly that he really knew better. He didn't stop, though.
"The third time it happened, maybe a year and a half later, he got burned himself-not seriously, but enough to show him what it felt like. I thought the talking-to would really mean something that time. He was very indignant, not with me but with the fire. He insisted it wasn't fair that one person could play tricks with fire and have fun, while someone else who did it got hurt. It took me a couple of weeks, off and on, to find out what he was talking about. At last he told me about seeing a big boy pour a lot of oil on the ground and set fire to it, and seeing a car drive into the fire, and the boy jump into the car and drive it out again. Later still, a couple of years ago while you were home, I was with him and we happened to see you. He said you were the big boy who made the fire. I've never been sure what to believe, since his jokes sometimes include pretty fancy lies, and I've been wanting to find out ever since.
"There's one complication. As nearly as I could find out, this all happened the day his younger sister was born and his mother died. Maybe that's why it made such an impression on him, maybe not. Maybe nothing of the sort happened at all, but I'd like to know. I'm not especially fond of the kid, but it would be nice to unkink him."
"It happened about that way," Bob said thought-fully. "Let's see-he was about four years old then I didn't actually drive into the fire, but he might have had a bad view, or might just not remember." He fell silent; both he and the Hunter were badly jolted. Neither had had the slightest suspicion that there had been a witness to the settling of the earlier problem other than Bob's father. Both were wondering how much of the story, and in what distorted forms, had been spread among the younger fraction of Ell's population.
"Too bad you didn't tell that to your father," Bob said at last. "I don't know what sort of psychologist; he is, but at least you might have known the facts be hind the story."
"Dad knows about it? He never-"
"He wouldn't. How could he? Yes, he knows."
"There's nothing about it in the folder he keeps on you."
"I know, Miss Secretary. I'll have to read that some time and find out what you do know about me. The fire-lighting was not a medical activity, and he has reasons for not writing down even all of my medical problems."
"Which you are about to tell me, I take it."
"If you like. If you think you can believe him more easily than you can me, go to your father and tell him I said he can tell you all about the Hunter. Which do you want?"
"Start talking. I'll check your version against Dad's when I see him."