(eng) Paul Preuss by The Gates of Heaven

Author:The Gates of Heaven [Heaven, The Gates of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“My pleasure,” Donner replied. “After all, you two are definitely VIP’s around here. I hope you’ll give me a chance to show you around after your meeting?”

“This is strictly a business trip, I’m afraid,” said Michael, a trifle self-importantly.

“Maybe we could take you up on that next time.”

“Any time at all,” said Donner. “Well, Doctor Rosenblum is waiting, and I’ve got a tram standing by. Shall we go?”

Within a few moments they were humming across the desert and through the main gate of Searchlight Base, toward the deep shade of the rows of antennas. The trip from the magneplane station to the Operations Building at the very center of the array took only a few minutes, and Ted Donner kept up an easy conversation with Michael all the way. Roger Crain seemed to have withdrawn into his own thoughts, his eyes fixed on the great antennas which marched by one after another in a seemingly endless parade.

If Michael had later reflected on his talk with Donner, he might have been uncomfortable at how much of himself he’d revealed to the affable stranger in such a short time—his former jobs, his former marriages, his tastes in food and music, his favorite TV shows, what he liked to read, what he did for exercise, his vague political views. Whatever Michael said, Donner always had something apropos to add, which coincidentally moved Michael easily on to the next subject, and Michael stepped out of the tram unaware that he had been fleeced by an expert mental pickpocket.

Donner whisked them past the guard at the door of the Operations Building, through an airlock, down two corridors and up a flight of stairs to Joshua Rosenblum’s office. It took a moment for Michael’s eyes to adjust to the light, almost all of which came through the huge window behind Rosenblum’s desk, reflected from the dazzling surfaces of the enormous paraboloid dishes of nearby antennas.

When Michael’s eyes did adjust, he found that Rosenblum was not behind his desk; he was not even in his office. Two people were rising to their feet beside a conference table in one corner of the big room. Ted Donner made quick introductions among Grain and Michael and Lynn Nishihara and Fred Walker.

“I suppose you people will be talking over my head, so I’ll just disappear,” Donner said. “But please let me know if I can be of any help. Any of these folks will know how to get ahold of me.”

Donner slipped out of the room as Michael and Roger Crain thanked him.

“You both like coffee, don’t you?” asked Fred Walker, moving toward the wall dispenser as Crain and Michael nodded. “Cream? sugar? Just black then,” he said, tapping the unit’s buttons, then handing them thin glass mugs. “Here you go. Josh should be with us any minute, he was called off to …”

Just then Rosenblum hurried through the door, loose coat and trousers flopping in the breeze of his passage. “Roger Crain, God it’s good to see you in

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