Foster, M.A. - Waves by M. A. Foster

Author:M. A. Foster
Language: eng
Format: mobi

Fraesch looked at the sheet of paper and shook his head.Then he wrote:

The conclusion is that Tula has been here before. None of the station personnel seems to know her,so she was here before they came. Here on Mulcahen, here, in the northwest, and here, at Halcyon.

She knew who I was and why I was here. Shehas kept careful watch on me, and has gone to considerable trouble to "capture" my loyalty.

She has attained access to the lab and permissionto operate the equipment.

Fraesch looked away from the paper and sighed deeply.This would go far to explain why she seemed to relax a litde,and no longer insisted on her background as technician, butbecame more herself. It didn't matter any more. But an answer only provokes more questions, and for Fraesch, these were now obvious: why? For a moment, he started to say,"She's working for Speculations," but there was somethingabout that which didn't quite feel correct If for another group, who? And there was another thing, too; that it appeared she was working alone, without contacts, although hecouldn't be so sure of that. He could be reasonably sure shehad no close contact with anyone off-planet—she was prey tothe same isolation as the rest of them. And if truly operatingalone, she would have to be, by inference, either enormouslyself-confident or professionally experienced, or both. Preferably. He suspected it would be without contacts, then. Thatwould fit. Then . . . whoever had sent her would dependupon her to get results, which would occur. Suddenly, he felta sense of oppression. He was an amateur, not a practiced oneat that, suddenly realizing that he was facing a seasoned pro.Yet the feeling persisted that it was just as Tuzun had said,that there "was no malice," that Tula was protecting him aswell as getting him carefully out of the way. In some mannerhe was necessary to her. Fraesch had a cold chill, just then.He did not have the faintest idea how far he could push her,until he became unnecessary to Tula. He was not at all certain that he wanted to determine those limits without help.

He got up and began pacing around the study. Should hego now to the lab, look in on her, see if he could catch her atsomething? How would he know? Fraesch was no technician,but an administrator. No, he thought. That's the wrong way.He felt an odd and irrational burst of confidence. No, not that way at all. He smiled to himself. And thought: she'll tellme, I think; she doesn't lie—just doesn't tell the whole truth.And he added, as an afterthought, in a perverse sense, all thishas made her more desirable than she was before, worth engaging, worth capturing, if only for a time.

He went to the frame and looked at it. As he stood before it, a face was fading from it, and the screen was assuming itssilvery blankness of the between-pictures state. Yes. Anotherimage was forming, now, out of the nothingness. But as thelines solidified they did not resolve into a face. Fraesch cocked his head and looked curiously at the frame.

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