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exploration."
Exploration?"
Chalmers nodded. Of their moons, for a start. This one first."
Kachru's face paled. I see. Did you manage to get any information about their timetable?"
Nothing exact. You can query your agents in the monitoring room. They'll confirm I'm concealing
nothing."
What ? Kachru stopped, discarding the pretense, accepting his knowledge sedately. Any educated
estimates?"
Soon, Chalmers said. I've discarded my last illusions about judging Alulans by human standards.
Based on their previous headlong pace, I estimate they'll make their first attempt at a landing within six to
twelve months."
Kachru tapped her stylus against the top of her desk. Six months, you say. Not, perhaps, four? The
last ship was due in five.
Even if I guaranteed that, he replied with light irony, you wouldn't believe it."
Kachru nodded absently, and Chalmers spoke aloud the thought they were both sharing. The Alulans
may manage to reach us before the evacuation is complete."
Well, Kachru said, and she stopped tapping her stylus. We'll just have to see to it that it doesn't
happen."
There's not much more you can do, Chalmers said. You've evacuated this base as fast as you could
have."
Kachru tipped her head. That sounds suspiciously like a compliment."
It's a factual statement, nothing more. Chalmers decided that one more try couldn't hurt. He sat down
across from Kachru, and as softly as possible, said, Director?"
Yes?"
He tried to be deferential. Ignoring my own leanings for the moment, don't you think it would be wise to
start developing some contact protocols? If the Alulans exceed even my own predictions... He trailed
off.
Kachru stared at him, and for the first time in a while, smiled benignly. Doctor, thank you. I shall
consider it. But in the meantime, the evacuation process will have to go forward, at a stepped up pace.
Dismissed."
Chalmers stood. He saw the usual high-handed arrogance in that smile, and it annoyed him. Very well,
Director. I look forward to receiving your updated schedule."
* * * *
Dwelling a moment on the meeting he had just left almost got Chalmers lost. His room had been
dismantled a few days after the ship's arrival, another morsel for Az-Zahir's insatiable machine. The move
to new quarters was less traumatic than it could have been, since he was already packed for his aborted
voyage home.
He needed a second to orient himself, and finally hit upon the right corridor. Down, turn right, third door
on the left and look who was there.
Weren't you on the ship, Louise? he said. I didn't think they were letting anyone return to base once
they were boarded. He finally looked closer at her. And why are you looking so distressed?"
Louise coughed hoarsely. Could we go inside?"
Chalmers led the way. No sooner had he closed the door than Louise spoke. I know the identity of the
infiltrator, the one who passed our theories on to the Director."
Really? Well, that explains your mood."
Louise held back a shudder. I didn't know whether you still cared about who it was, but you have the
right to learn. It's your choice to make."
Chalmers considered. How reliable is your information?"
I'm certain. No doubt whatsoever."
None? The furrows on his brow smoothed away. All right, I would like to know."
Are you sure?"
I just said so, Chalmers said, starting to lose patience. Who was the informer?"
Louise drew herself up. I was, Winston."
Chalmers felt himself sway. The room took on a bright fuzziness. His lips moved to say No, but he
couldn't hear the word.
I have great respect for your abilities, your intellect. I even find it easy to tolerate your ... eccentricities.
A smile almost surfaced through the pain. But you allowed your desire to reveal ourselves to the Alulans
to go out of control. Anything not working toward your goal was enemy action. There was no sense of
proportion."
Louise, how can you "
She waved away his words. At that awful meeting, where Kachru recited all the ways you were
undermining work here, I realized she was right. I had seen it, first-hand. We were violating our
commitment to obey Earth's policies, and she was struggling to hold this base together. It was chaos or
order. I chose order. I went to her; we struck our bargain. I betrayed you to keep my promise."
Chalmers had sagged against a wall, pulling a sketch loose. Why are you telling me this? His voice
drifted, torn loose from reason. Why? Why?"
Louise found a reserve of composure. I had to be honest with you, with all of you. Respect demanded
that. Her gaze wavered, but held. I'm telling all the members, leaving notes for them ... but I knew I had
to face you, or there was no facing myself."
He stayed rooted in place. He clenched his fists, knowing they would do nothing. He struggled to show
something other than shock, but could not.
Louise resisted the miserable pity as long as she could. I'll go now, she said, in time to preserve some
dignity. She did not look back.
Chalmers managed a step toward the door as it closed. I he said before stopping himself.
It was pointless. What did he think he could say to retrieve the situation? I love you? The time for that
was long ago, and it wasn't even true any longer.
He had met Louise Georges fifteen years ago in Egyptological circles. He had been taken at first by her
beautiful looks, her vivid red hair and slender body. But he had also been impressed with her intellect and
her compassion. Their paths had crossed with casual frequency, and little by little he found professional
amity becoming something else. He didn't breathe a word of it, not daring to risk humiliation. She had the
higher degree, the greater respect: he didn't feel equal.
So he set about raising himself to her level, and in a meteoric streak of brilliant work, achieved it. The
Hawass Prize should have broken down the barriers, cleared his path to declare himself. In the flush of
success, though, he overreached himself.
Awareness of the discovery of the Alulans, and the nascent studies of them, had filtered through his tight
professional focus. It stirred notions within him, which coalesced into an earth-shaking theory.
Egyptologists had always been prone to ideas about ancient astronauts. He thought he would find a
receptive audience.
He stopped pressing his theory quickly, before the damage to his career was total. The embarrassment
stalked him in all the work he did thereafter and incidentally erased any notion of approaching Louise.
His application for outpost duty was an admission of defeat, its acceptance a relief more than a triumph.
That was over nine years ago. When Louise arrived seven years later, he found the old fires dead, but the
friendship stronger than ever. Their relationship was akin to a chaste marriage, an intellectual intimacy
guarded by respect and trust.
Trust. How strong a bond.
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