CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
COOPER LOOKED DOUBTFUL. “YOU THINK THIS IS enough?”
“For now, yeah. Who knows?”—Gordon shrugged—“Maybe for good, too.”
“I at least ought to fill in some of the high field observations.”
“Not that important.”
“After what that committee did to me, I want to be sure—”
“More data isn’t the answer. You need more background reading, more analysis of your data, things like that. Not more numbers churning out of the lab.”
“You sure?”
“You can close out your run by tomorrow.”
“Umm. Well, okay.”
In reality, Cooper probably could strengthen his case with more data. Gordon had always disliked the practice of overmeasuring every effect, though, mostly because he suspected it deadened the imagination. After a while you saw only what you expected to see. How could he be sure Cooper was really taking all the data as it came?
This was a justifiable reason for bumping Cooper off the NMR rig, but that wasn’t why Gordon did it. Claudia Zinnes would be starting up in September. If she found anything anomalous, Gordon wanted to be running simultaneously.
Gordon came home from the lab hungry. Penny had already eaten and was watching the 11 o’clock news. “Want anything?” he called from the kitchen.
“No.”
“What’s that you’re watching?”
“March on Washington.”
“Uh?”
“Martin Luther King. You know.”
He hadn’t been paying any attention to the news. He asked nothing more; discussing politics with Penny would only set her off. She had been elaborately casual since he had returned. There was an odd truce between them, not a peace.
“Hey,” he called, coming into the living room, which was lit only by the pale electric glow of the TV. “Dishwasher won’t go on.”
“Uh huh.” She didn’t turn her head.
“Did you call?”
“No.
“I did last.”
“Well, I’m not. Hate that. Let it be broke.”
“You spend more time with it than me.”
“That’ll change, too.”
“What?”
“Not busting ass to fix meals any more.”
“Didn’t think you had.”
“How’d
“Two points off for credibility,” he said lightly. “You know I can cook some things, anyway.”
“Come on.”
“I’m serious,” he said sharply. “I’m going to be in the lab a lot and—”
“Loud and prolonged applause.”
“For Chrissake.”
“I won’t be here much, so.”
“Neither will I except in and out.”
“Least you’re
“Crap, that’s not what you’re on the rag about.”
“Metaphorical rag?”
“Real rag, metawhatever rag—how do I know?”
“I thought you thought maybe real rag. Otherwise maybe you would’ve touched me since you got back.”
“Oh.”
“Didn’t notice, huh?”
Grimly: “I noticed.”
“Okay, why?”
“Wasn’t thinking about it, I guess.”
“Think about it.”
“You know, busy.”
“Think I don’t know? Come on, Gordon. I saw your face when you got off that plane. We were going to have a drink at the El Cortez, look at the city. Lunch.”
“Okay. Look, I need dinner.”
“You dinner, I’ll watch the speech.”
“Good. Wine?”
“Sure. Enough for later?”
“Later?”
“My mother should’ve taught me to be more direct. Later, when we fuck.”
“Oh, yes. Fuck we will.”
They did. It wasn’t very good.
Gordon broke Cooper’s experiment down to the basic components. Then he rebuilt it. He checked each piece for shielding, looking for any way an unsuspected signal could get into the circuitry. He had most of it reassembled when Saul Shriffer appeared, unannounced, in the lab.
“Gordon! I was just at UCLA and thought I’d drop by.”
“Oh, hi,” Gordon murmured, wiping his hands on an oily cloth. A man with a camera followed Saul into the lab.
“This is Alex Paturski, from
“I’d appreciate a few shots,” Paturski said. Gordon murmured yeah, sure, and Paturski quickly brought in reflecting screens and camera gear. Saul talked about the reaction to his announcement. “Dreadful example of closed minds,” Saul said. “Nobody is following up our lead. I can’t get anyone in the astronomical community to give the idea five seconds.” Gordon concurred, and decided not to tell Saul about Claudia Zinnes. Paturski circled them, clicking and bobbing. “Turn this way a little more, eh?” and Saul would do as directed. Gordon followed suit, wishing he wore something more than a T-shirt and jeans. This was, of course, the one day he had not worn his usual slacks and Oxford broadcloth.
“Great, gentlemen, just great,” Paturski said in conclusion. Saul inspected the experiment a moment. Gordon showed him some preliminary warmup traces he’d taken. Sensitivity was low but the curves were obviously clean resonance lines.
“Too bad. More results could open this whole thing up again, you know.” Saul studied him. “Let me know if you see anything, okay?”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“No, I suppose not.” Saul appeared momentarily dejected. “I really thought there was something to it, too.”
“Maybe there is.”
“Yes. Yes, of course, perhaps there is.” He brightened. “Don’t get the idea that it’s all over, eh? When it’s
