voice, "this is Dr. Arpin. Inez Arpin? Remember me? I was on your training team before you left?"
Enoch thought about it. "Were you the black lady with the glasses and the ink blots?"
"No. I'm the white lady with the rubber gloves and the rectal thermometer."
"Oh, sure, of course. You have very trim ankles."
"Thank you."
Bert's voice exploded through the speaker. " Jeezus Kee- rice , Inez!"
"Enoch," Dr. Arpin continued, ignoring Bert, "are you speaking in tongues?"
Enoch Mirren was silent for a moment, then said, "Gee, I'm awfully sorry. I guess I've been linked up with the Cissaldan so long, I've absorbed a lot of how it thinks and speaks. I'm really sorry. I'll try to translate."
The studious voice spoke again. "How did you meet the, uh, Cissaldan?"
"Just appeared. I didn't call it or anything. Didn't even see it arrive. One minute it wasn't there, and the next it was."
Dr. Arpin spoke. "But how did it get from its own planet to Earth 2 Some kind of spaceship, perhaps?"
"No, it just … came. It can move by will. It told me it felt my presence, and just simply hopped across all the way from its home in that other star-system. I think it was true love that brought it. Isn't that nice?"
All three voices tried speaking at once.
"Teleportation!" Dr. Arpin said, wonderingly.
"Mind-to-mind contact, telepathy, across unfathomable light-years of space," the studious voice said, awesomely.
"And what does it want, Mirren?" Bert demanded, forgetting the conciliatory tone. His voice was the loudest.
"Just to make love; it's really a terrific little person."
"So you just hopped in the sack with that disgusting thing, is that right? Didn't even give a thought to decent morals or contamination or your responsibility to us, or the mission, or anything? Just jumped right into the hay with that pukeable pervert?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Enoch said.
"Well, it was a lousy idea, whaddaya think about that , Mirren? And there'll be repercussions, you can bet on that, too; repercussions! Investigations! Responsibility must be placed!" Bert was shouting again. Dr. Arpin was trying to calm him.
At that moment, Enoch heard an alarm go off somewhere. It came through the speakers in the ceiling quite clearly, and in a moment the speakers were cut off. But in that moment the sound filled the interrogation cell, its ululations signaling dire emergency. Enoch sat in silence, in darkness, naked, humming, waiting for the voices to return. He hoped he'd be allowed to get back to his Cissaldan pretty soon.
But they never came back. Not ever.
The alarm had rung because the disgusting thing had vanished. The alien morphologists who had been monitoring it through the one-way glass of the control booth fronting on the examination stage that formed the escape-proof study chamber had been turned away only a few seconds, accepting mugs of steaming stimulant-laced coffee from a Tech 3. When they turned back, the examination stage was empty. The disgusting thing was gone.
People began running around in ever-decreasing circles. Some of them disappeared into holes in the walls and made like they weren't there.
Three hours later they found the disgusting thing.
It was making love with Dr. Marilyn Hornback in a broom closet.
TimeSep Central, deep underground, was the primary locus of visitation, because it had taken the Cissaldan a little while to acclimate itself. But even as Bert, Dr. Inez Arpin, the studious type whose name does not matter, and all the others who came under the classification of chrono-experts were trying to unscramble their brains at the bizarre progression of events in TimeSep Central, matters were already out of their hands.
Cissaldans began appearing everywhere.
As though summoned by some silent song of space and time (which, in fact, was the case), disgusting things began popping into existence all over Earth. Like kernels of corn suddenly erupting into blossoms of popcorn, one moment there would be
Enoch thought about it. "Were you the black lady with the glasses and the ink blots?"
"No. I'm the white lady with the rubber gloves and the rectal thermometer."
"Oh, sure, of course. You have very trim ankles."
"Thank you."
Bert's voice exploded through the speaker. " Jeezus Kee- rice , Inez!"
"Enoch," Dr. Arpin continued, ignoring Bert, "are you speaking in tongues?"
Enoch Mirren was silent for a moment, then said, "Gee, I'm awfully sorry. I guess I've been linked up with the Cissaldan so long, I've absorbed a lot of how it thinks and speaks. I'm really sorry. I'll try to translate."
The studious voice spoke again. "How did you meet the, uh, Cissaldan?"
"Just appeared. I didn't call it or anything. Didn't even see it arrive. One minute it wasn't there, and the next it was."
Dr. Arpin spoke. "But how did it get from its own planet to Earth 2 Some kind of spaceship, perhaps?"
"No, it just … came. It can move by will. It told me it felt my presence, and just simply hopped across all the way from its home in that other star-system. I think it was true love that brought it. Isn't that nice?"
All three voices tried speaking at once.
"Teleportation!" Dr. Arpin said, wonderingly.
"Mind-to-mind contact, telepathy, across unfathomable light-years of space," the studious voice said, awesomely.
"And what does it want, Mirren?" Bert demanded, forgetting the conciliatory tone. His voice was the loudest.
"Just to make love; it's really a terrific little person."
"So you just hopped in the sack with that disgusting thing, is that right? Didn't even give a thought to decent morals or contamination or your responsibility to us, or the mission, or anything? Just jumped right into the hay with that pukeable pervert?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Enoch said.
"Well, it was a lousy idea, whaddaya think about that , Mirren? And there'll be repercussions, you can bet on that, too; repercussions! Investigations! Responsibility must be placed!" Bert was shouting again. Dr. Arpin was trying to calm him.
At that moment, Enoch heard an alarm go off somewhere. It came through the speakers in the ceiling quite clearly, and in a moment the speakers were cut off. But in that moment the sound filled the interrogation cell, its ululations signaling dire emergency. Enoch sat in silence, in darkness, naked, humming, waiting for the voices to return. He hoped he'd be allowed to get back to his Cissaldan pretty soon.
But they never came back. Not ever.
The alarm had rung because the disgusting thing had vanished. The alien morphologists who had been monitoring it through the one-way glass of the control booth fronting on the examination stage that formed the escape-proof study chamber had been turned away only a few seconds, accepting mugs of steaming stimulant-laced coffee from a Tech 3. When they turned back, the examination stage was empty. The disgusting thing was gone.
People began running around in ever-decreasing circles. Some of them disappeared into holes in the walls and made like they weren't there.
Three hours later they found the disgusting thing.
It was making love with Dr. Marilyn Hornback in a broom closet.
TimeSep Central, deep underground, was the primary locus of visitation, because it had taken the Cissaldan a little while to acclimate itself. But even as Bert, Dr. Inez Arpin, the studious type whose name does not matter, and all the others who came under the classification of chrono-experts were trying to unscramble their brains at the bizarre progression of events in TimeSep Central, matters were already out of their hands.
Cissaldans began appearing everywhere.
As though summoned by some silent song of space and time (which, in fact, was the case), disgusting things began popping into existence all over Earth. Like kernels of corn suddenly erupting into blossoms of popcorn, one moment there would be