Navcomms HO again. The inside of Caldwell #146;s luxurious office with its murals and one wall completely dedicated to a battery of view-screens; the panoramic view down over the rainbow towers of Houston #151;nothing had changed.
'So you #146;ve got more than your money #146;s worth, Gregg,' he replied. 'Not complaining, are you?'
'Hell no. I #146;m not complaining. You #146;ve done another good job by the way things are shaping up. It #146;s just that whenever I set you an assignment, things seem to have this tendency to kinda. . . get outa hand. I always end up with more than I bargained for.' Caldwell removed his cigar from his teeth and inclined his head briefly. 'But as you say, I #146;m not complaining.'
The executive director studied Hunt thoughtfully for a few seconds. 'So. . . what was it like to be away from Earth for the first time?'
'Oh, it was. . . an experience,' Hunt answered automatically, but when he looked up he saw from the mischievous twinkle that danced in the eyes below the craggy brows that the question had been more than casual. He should have known. Caldwell never said or did anything without a reason.
'Know thyself,' Caldwell quoted softly. 'And others too, maybe, huh?' He shrugged as if making light of the matter, but the twinkle still remained in his eyes.
Hunt #146;s brows knitted for a split second, and then his eyes slowly widened as the cryptic message behind this turn in the conversation became clear. It took perhaps two seconds for the details to click into place in his brain. In the early days of the Lunarian investigations, just after Hunt had moved to Houston from England, his relationship with Danchekker had been caustic. Progress toward unraveling the mystery was more often than not hampered because the two scientists dissipated their energies fruitlessly in personal conflicts. But later on, in the wilderness of Luna and out in the void between Earth and Jupiter, all that had somehow been forgotten. It was then that the two scientists had begun to work in harmony, and the difficulties had crumbled before the powerful assault of their combined talents, which was what had been needed to solve the Lunarian problem. Hunt could see that clearly now. Suddenly, he also realized that this state of affairs had not come about through mere accident. He stared at Caldwell with new respect, and slowly nodded ungrudging approval.
'Gregg,' he said, in a tone of mock reproach. 'You #146;ve been pulling strings again. You set us up.'
'I did?' Caldwell #146;s voice was suitably innocent.
'Chris and me. It was out there we began to see each other as people and learned to pool our marbles. That #146;s what cracked the Lunarian riddle. You knew it would happen. . .' Hunt pointed an accusing finger across the desk. 'That #146;s why you did it.'
Caldwell compressed his heavy jowls momentarily into a tight-lipped grin of satisfaction. 'So, you got more than your money #146;s worth,' he threw back. 'Not complaining, are you?'
'Smooth operator,' Hunt complimented, raising his glass. 'Okay, we #146;ve both had a good deal. That #146;s how I think business ought to be. But now to the present and the future #151;what have you got lined up next?'
Caldwell sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk. He exhaled a long stream of blue smoke. 'What about this bunch of alien guys you brought back from Europe; are you still tied up most of the time with looking after them?'
'They #146;ve been introduced over at Westwood now,' Hunt told him. 'They #146;re interested in the Lunarians and particularly want to have a look at Charlie over there. Chris Danchekker is handling that side of things, which leaves me fairly free for a while.'
'Fine. What I #146;d like you to start giving some thought to is a preliminary overview of Ganymean science,' Caldwell said. 'What with this ZORAC machine of theirs and all the conferences and discussions they #146;re having all over the place, there #146;s more information coming across than we can handle. When all the excitement dies down there #146;s going to be one hell of a lotta work to get through with all that. When you were coordinating the Charlie business you operated a pretty good network of channels to most of the leading scientific institutions and establishments around the world. I #146;d like you to use those channels again to make a start at cataloging and evaluating everything that #146;s new, especially things that could be of particular use to UNSA #151;like their gravitics. We may find we want to revise a lot of our own research programs in light of what these big guys have got to tell us. Now seems as good a time as any to begin.'
'The group stays intact for a while then?' Hunt guessed, referring to the team that he had headed during the Lunarian investigations and which had continued working under the supervision of his deputy, mainly to tidy up the unresolved details, during his time on Ganymede.
'Yep.' Caldwell nodded. 'The way they work seems set up for the job. Have you said hello to them yet?'
Hunt shook his head. 'Only got back this morning. I came straight on here.'
'Do that then,' Caldwell said. 'There are probably a lot of old friends around here that you want to see. Take the rest of this week to settle in again. Then make a start on what we just talked about on Monday. Okay?'
'Okay. The first thing I #146;ll do is go see the group and give them an idea of what our next job #146;s going to be. I think they #146;ll like it. Who knows . . . they might even have half of it organized for me by Monday if they start thinking about it.' He cocked an inquiring eye at Caldwell. 'Or is that what you figure you pay me to do?'
'I pay you to think smart,' Caldwell grunted. 'That #146;s called delegation. If you wanna delegate too, that #146;s what I call thinking smart. Do it.'
Hunt spent the rest of that day with his own staff, familiarizing himself with some of the fine points of how they had been getting on #151;he had kept in touch with them almost daily for the general things #151;and outlining for them his recent directive from Caldwell. After that there was no getting away; they quizzed him for hours about every scrap of information that he had managed to absorb on Ganymean scientific theory and technology, kept him talking all through lunch, and succeeded in extracting a commitment from him to arrange for a Ganymean scientist or two to come and give them an intensive teach-in. At least, he reflected as he finally, left for home at nine o #146;clock that night, he was not going to have any problems with motivation there.
Next morning he made a point of avoiding that part of Navcomms HQ building that contained his own offices and started his day by paying a call on another old friend of his #151;Don Maddson, head of the linguistics section. It was Don #146;s team, working in cooperation with several universities and research institutes all over the world, that had played one of the most important roles in the Lunarian saga by untangling the riddle of the Lunarian language, using documents found on Charlie #146;s person and, later, a library of microdot texts from the remains of a Lunarian base that had come to light near Tycho, Without the translations, it would never have been possible even to prove conclusively that the Lunanans and the Ganymeans had come from the same planet.
Hunt stopped outside the door of Maddson #146;s office, knocked lightly and entered without waiting for a reply. Maddson was sitting behind his desk studying a sheet from a stack of the innumerable pieces of paper without which his office would never have seemed complete. He glanced up, stared incredulously for a second, and then his face split into a broad ear-to-ear smile.
'Vic! What the. . .' He half rose from his chair and began pumping Hunt #146;s proffered hand vigorously. 'It #146;s great to see ya. I knew you were back on Earth but nobody told me you were Stateside yet. . .' He beckoned Hunt toward an easy chair on the other side of the desk. 'Sit down, sit down. When did you get in?'
'Yesterday morning,' Hunt replied, settling himself comfortably. 'I had to see Gregg and then I got tied up completely with the Group L bunch. Gregg wants us to start thinking about writing a compendium of Ganymean science. They #146;re all dead keen to go on it. . . kept me talking till heavens knows what time last night in the Ocean Bar.'
'Ganymeans, eh?' Maddson grinned. 'I thought maybe you #146;d have brought us one back.'
'There #146;s a load of #146;em over at Westwood with Chris Danchekker right now.'
'Yeah. I know about that. They #146;re due to pay us a call here later. Everybody around here #146;s getting keyed up with the suspense. They can #146;t wait.' Maddson sat back in his chair and regarded Hunt over interlaced fingers for a few seconds. At last he shook his head. 'Well, I dunno where to start, Vic. It #146;s been all this time . . . there are so many questions . . . I guess there #146;s enough to keep us talking all day, huh? Or maybe you #146;re getting tired of people asking all the same things all the time, over and over?'
'Not at all,' Hunt said. 'But why don #146;t we save all that for lunch? Maybe some of the others might like to join us and then I #146;ll only need to say it all to everybody once; otherwise I
'Great idea,' Maddson agreed. 'We #146;ll reserve the topic for lunch. In the meantime, have a guess what we
