“Why?” Clad only in his underwear, Hawkins was up to his knees in the warm salt water. “Let ’em stew in their own frustration.”
“Now, Wallace, we can hardly expect the Autothor to act polite if we don’t.” Gelmann scrutinized the ethereal egg. “We’ll talk to them.”
The holo dilated with the image of a man in his thirties. He looked startled.
After several minutes had passed without any reaction, Gelmann took a step forward and waved. “So; shalom already.”
“Uh, hi.” There were suggestions of sudden frantic activity behind the speaker. He looked up from the printouts someone quickly handed him. “Would you be Mina Louise Leveseur Kalinnikov Gelmann, of Lake Woneapenigong Village, Newyork Province?”
“Who else would I be?” She assayed a maternal smile. “You probably know all my friends too.” She gestured at her companions. Shimoda bowed slightly, Heath struck a martial pose, Iranaputra smiled, Hawkins bent over and probed in the water, his backside prominent.
“I think so.” The communications specialist paused while a large, thick-necked man leaned into the field of view and murmured something into his ear, then withdrew. “I’m Wilson, Tome Wilson. Please don’t take offense, but I’m directed to ask you this question: Would you allow some of us to join you aboard the artifact?”
“Sorry, no can do, you should only understand and be well. We’re not letting anyone aboard right now.”
“Ohhh-kayyy.” The comspec pondered frantically. The fact that an admiral of the fleet was practically leaning on his elbow was less than conducive to cogent thought. “Anything I can do to change your mind?”
“Afraid not, old boy,” said Heath.
Wilson listened to someone beyond pickup range. “Since you can’t do anything for us, is there anything we can do for you? Anything at all you’d like? Individual palaces, perhaps, or obscene amounts of money deposited to your respective credit accounts?”
Hawkins’s eyes widened. He started toward the Autothor, but in his haste tripped and landed with a decisive splash facedown in the shallow water. Gelmann hardly spared him a glance.
“Thank you, no. We’re all of us comfortably retired, and except where valid as historical monuments I don’t believe that palaces are currently in fashion on Earth. Though you shouldn’t think me greedy, but I could do with an apartment with a lake instead of mountain view at Lake Woneapenigong. Of course, there’s no lake there now.”
“We’ll arrange the apartment you want,” the comspec said quickly, “and we’ll put back the lake too.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” replied Gelmann, pleased. “But I’m afraid we still can’t allow any of you on board just yet.”
Heath took a step toward the hovering ellipse. “What Mina is saying is that due to our present position we feel a heavy responsibility. We need time to consider things, don’t you know.”
“Certainly, of course.” The comspec sputtered in his haste to agree.
“The Chakans shot at the ship. So it, and we, are somewhat suspicious, you see.”
“That won’t happen again,” Wilson swore.
“Indeed it will not,” said Iranaputra.
“But it, the artifact, it trusts you?”
“So far. We cannot predict if or when the situation might change.” Iranaputra considered the silently attentive Autothor. “It is alien.”
Wilson leaned forward eagerly. “All the more reason for you to allow some experts aboard.”
“Not just yet, if you don’t mind,” said Heath. “We don’t feel we’re in any immediate danger.”
The comspec resorted to a pout. “My superiors will be disappointed.”
“Now, you just let them rage impotently.” Gelmann smiled cheerfully. “You’re a nice young man. Don’t let them browbeat you.”
“Uh, I’ll take your advice under consideration,” Wilson replied without much confidence.
“Meanwhile you just stay clear and you won’t get hurt.”
“I’ll pass that along,” the comspec mumbled weakly. “This self-imposed isolation really isn’t in your best interests. None of you have any experience in dealing with this sort of thing.”
“Neither does anyone else, dear,” said Gelmann brightly as she directed the Autothor to close the connection. The holo blanked on a frantically waving Wilson.
“What do we do now?” Iranaputra regarded his companions. Having recovered his physical if not his emotional equilibrium, Hawkins was sitting waist-deep in the warm salt water, grousing angrily to himself.
“How about we have a nap and then something to eat?” suggested Shimoda.
Iranaputra shook his head slowly. “This is a serious situation. How can we continue to ignore such inquiries?”
“The same way we’ve ignored them so far, old chap.” Heath settled himself on the sand, hands folded behind his head.
“‘Soldiers move when others tarry,’ according to the Bhagavad Gita. They will not, cannot, continue to sit in space and do nothing.”
“They will if they know what’s good for them.” Shimoda shifted his attention to the Autothor as he sat down next to Heath. “Dim the sky a little more, will you, please?” The blue ellipse flared, the forced-perspective sun sank a little lower behind the horizon, and the decorative clouds overhead darkened from gold to brown. Shimoda lay down contentedly.
“Can’t think clearly without proper sleep.”
“Yes.” Gelmann, too, had assumed a prone position on the beach. She smiled at Iranaputra. “You worry too much, Victor. A nap will do us all good. We don’t have your stamina.”
He sat down reluctantly. “What if something happens while we are asleep?”
She indicated the Autothor. “In that event I think we can rely on the most authoritative alarm clock in the known universe. Relax, Victor.” She wiggled her bare toes into the sand.
