be freely accessible. I work very irregular hours; I never know when inspiration will hit. Let me take a look at the list of assignments and.…”
Trefarbe’s expression was that of a mother dealing with a naughty child. “Now Dr. Imelda, you’re being very difficult. I was told to expect this sort of behavior from you. There is no reason why you can’t accept this arrangement. The expense of finding you an individual station or of moving people about…”
“Doesn’t come close to that of building a workstation on the administrative floor. I’m sure Caldwell also has a list of assignments, but I was hoping we wouldn’t have to bother him with this.”
Trefarbe’s face flushed. “We wouldn’t have to consult the list at all, if you’d just be reasonable! Now, I’ve thought a lot about this and…”
‘I’ll bet you have,’ thought Imelda. “The list, Trefarbe.” Her look at Trefarbe did not brook further discussion.
“Well, all right, then, although I’m not sure I’m supposed to.”
Imelda sat down in the chair next to Trefarbe’s desk, running through the assignments. Since when had workstation assignments become secret? Trefarbe was a gas. She wondered if Caldwell would have been able to do anything with her even if he’d gotten her into the sack.
“Here, g ive me that one.” A space was open in Grady’s unit.
“All the way over there? That’s on the opposite side of the station!”
“I like exercise.” Imelda gazed at Trefarbe expectantly.
“Well okay, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to cancel my orders to Engineering regarding the workstation we were going to build for you.” Her voice implied that this was all a big mistake.
“Yes, and while you’re at it, I’m changing apartments. You can ask Caldwell about it.” She rose to leave. “See you later, Trefarbe. And oh, thanks for your help.”
The look Trefarbe sent after her was pure venom.
Chapter Four
Of kindred souls and slime
Click. A black smudge on the horizon appeared. Noiselessly, it came closer. Just as the features of the creature became recognizably features, it ducked under the mud.
Click. She froze the frame. Click, maximal magnification. Fuzzy black blob on top of fuzzy brown mud.
Click. A new scene appeared. A distant dot on the horizon rapidly enlarging to become another black blob. Swoop in for a closer look, yielding black blob disappearing beneath gray mud.
Click. Freeze frame. Click. Maximal magnification: Big black blob.
This particular subject under study did not welcome the intrusion of flying machines into the bucolic paradise of the planet below. The scene that Caldwell had shown them had been the only clear view of any of the large members of the group, and the surveyors had not flown low enough to get clear close ups of smaller varieties, if there were any.
Intelligence. Groundbase clearance meant that there was no evidence of life with techno-capacity. No life that could copy earth technology and get a jumpstart on space travel. She could see the headlines: “BLOBS IN SPACE! Video: A mysterious space ship, drizzling mud behind it, swoops over Syned. One of the ship’s inhabitants, seen only briefly, appeared to be a huge black blob slurping worms while taking a mud bath.”
Aerial surveillance was a crock. It was going to take groundbase observation in order to properly catalog this group. Other than knowing that one of them, Borg, was warm-blooded and liked mud, she was limited to population and distribution studies for now. She had been hoping she could quickly reclassify the creatures as members of other phyla and go on to a subject more likely to result in an independent research paper. The knowledge that all of the work she was doing now was likely to end up buried in the pages of someone else’s report did nothing to increase her enthusiasm.
Caldwell was a creep. He must
Trefarbe’s expression was that of a mother dealing with a naughty child. “Now Dr. Imelda, you’re being very difficult. I was told to expect this sort of behavior from you. There is no reason why you can’t accept this arrangement. The expense of finding you an individual station or of moving people about…”
“Doesn’t come close to that of building a workstation on the administrative floor. I’m sure Caldwell also has a list of assignments, but I was hoping we wouldn’t have to bother him with this.”
Trefarbe’s face flushed. “We wouldn’t have to consult the list at all, if you’d just be reasonable! Now, I’ve thought a lot about this and…”
‘I’ll bet you have,’ thought Imelda. “The list, Trefarbe.” Her look at Trefarbe did not brook further discussion.
“Well, all right, then, although I’m not sure I’m supposed to.”
Imelda sat down in the chair next to Trefarbe’s desk, running through the assignments. Since when had workstation assignments become secret? Trefarbe was a gas. She wondered if Caldwell would have been able to do anything with her even if he’d gotten her into the sack.
“Here, g ive me that one.” A space was open in Grady’s unit.
“All the way over there? That’s on the opposite side of the station!”
“I like exercise.” Imelda gazed at Trefarbe expectantly.
“Well okay, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to cancel my orders to Engineering regarding the workstation we were going to build for you.” Her voice implied that this was all a big mistake.
“Yes, and while you’re at it, I’m changing apartments. You can ask Caldwell about it.” She rose to leave. “See you later, Trefarbe. And oh, thanks for your help.”
The look Trefarbe sent after her was pure venom.
Chapter Four
Of kindred souls and slime
Click. A black smudge on the horizon appeared. Noiselessly, it came closer. Just as the features of the creature became recognizably features, it ducked under the mud.
Click. She froze the frame. Click, maximal magnification. Fuzzy black blob on top of fuzzy brown mud.
Click. A new scene appeared. A distant dot on the horizon rapidly enlarging to become another black blob. Swoop in for a closer look, yielding black blob disappearing beneath gray mud.
Click. Freeze frame. Click. Maximal magnification: Big black blob.
This particular subject under study did not welcome the intrusion of flying machines into the bucolic paradise of the planet below. The scene that Caldwell had shown them had been the only clear view of any of the large members of the group, and the surveyors had not flown low enough to get clear close ups of smaller varieties, if there were any.
Intelligence. Groundbase clearance meant that there was no evidence of life with techno-capacity. No life that could copy earth technology and get a jumpstart on space travel. She could see the headlines: “BLOBS IN SPACE! Video: A mysterious space ship, drizzling mud behind it, swoops over Syned. One of the ship’s inhabitants, seen only briefly, appeared to be a huge black blob slurping worms while taking a mud bath.”
Aerial surveillance was a crock. It was going to take groundbase observation in order to properly catalog this group. Other than knowing that one of them, Borg, was warm-blooded and liked mud, she was limited to population and distribution studies for now. She had been hoping she could quickly reclassify the creatures as members of other phyla and go on to a subject more likely to result in an independent research paper. The knowledge that all of the work she was doing now was likely to end up buried in the pages of someone else’s report did nothing to increase her enthusiasm.
Caldwell was a creep. He must
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