“How old are they?” she asked, glowering at him.
“Adult.”
“Do they travel with Hellstrom?”
“We have no record of that.”
“And you don’t even know whether these women have husbands or male attachments of any other nature?” she pressed.
Peruge’s heavy brows tended to draw down in thought or anger, and he brought them into this position, holding his voice flat and level to betray no upset at his present ignorance. “We don’t know this; no.”
She suspected his distress, though, because she moved to the same attack on Hellstrom. “And Hellstrom, is he married or otherwise entangled?”
“Not that we know. The reports tell you all that we have at this time.”
“All?” she sneered. “How old is Hellstrom?”
“We’re guessing at thirty-four. That’s farm and ranching country and he was educated at home for the first seven years. His grandmother, Trova Hellstrom, was an accredited teacher.”
“I’ve done my homework,” she said, tapping the file. “Only thirty-four. I raise that question to suggest that he’s fairly young to have caused so many waves.”
“Old enough.”
“You say he lectures and does an occasional seminar or colloquium, and he’s been on the faculties of several universities. How does he get these dangerous assignments?”
“On his reputation.”
“Hmmmph! What do we know of his other associates?”
“His technical people, business connections—you’ve seen the file.”
“And he banks in Switzerland. Interesting. Any indication of his worth?”
“Only what’s in the file.”
“Have you considered making discreet inquiries of his lawyers?”
“Do you take us for cretins?” Peruge asked.
She stared at him silently for a moment. “I said discreet.”
“His legal counsel, as you’ve seen there, is a native of Fosterville, which is a small town,” Peruge explained carefully. “A liaison between two dogs cannot be undertaken discreetly in such a setting.”
“Hmmmph.”
Peruge looked down at the folders in front of him. She knew, of course, as did the rest of them, that he was not telling the full story. That was expected, but she had no way of guessing the actuality. She had nothing but her suspicions.
“Have any of our people ever met this Hellstrom?” she asked.
Peruge looked up, wondering: Why are they letting her be their spokesman? Most unusual. “As you perhaps know, the Chief has connections to a vice-president of the bank that handles financial matters for the film company that usually markets Hellstrom’s productions. This vice-president has met Hellstrom socially and we have his report, which will be in your hands shortly.”
“This bank does no work for Hellstrom’s own company?”
“No.”
“Have we made overtures through our Swiss connections?”
“There’s no provable fraud involved and we cannot, therefore, gain open access to the Swiss records. We are still pursuing this, however.”
“What is the vice-president’s impression of Hellstrom?”
“A capable man in his own fields, rather quiet, with occasional bursts of concentrated energy where his own interests are concerned—specifically, when the subject of ecology arises.”
“What salaries does Hellstrom pay his employees?”
“Union scale where that’s indicated, guild scale, but we have no tax returns for some of them.”
“The two women on his corporation records?”
“Apparently they serve him for something other than money. We believe they live on the farm, but they have declared no income. It has been suggested that Hellstrom is less than generous or that fraud is involved. We cannot say as yet. Such records as we’ve seen indicate that his film company makes no profit. All of the income appears to be taken by ongoing activities of an apparently legal, that is to say, educational nature.”
“Could that farm be some sort of subversive school?”
“Some of the younger people allegedly stay there for an education in film making and in ecology. That’s detailed in the file.”
“Detailed,” she said, her voice flat. “Can we presume his installations have been inspected, building inspectors and that sort? Oregon must have laws about such things.”
“He was inspected by local people, and the accuracy of information based on those inspections remains in question. We will update your files as we are able.”
“Hellstrom’s technical people, cameramen and such, are they all recognized in the industry?”
“They have done work that has attracted praise.”
“But the people themselves, are they admired?”
“One could say so.”
“What would you say?”
“The question has little meaning except as an indicator for further investigations. It is our opinion that successful people in that industry tend to achieve a surface admiration from their fellows, but this surface attitude conceals an often quite profound hostility. Admiration in the usual sense has little to do with the situation except as it may indicate competence or income.”
“How much traveling has Hellstrom done since the report in our hands?”
“One trip to Kenya and two days at Stanford.”
“Is he away at the moment?”
“Possibly. I would have to consult our most recent reports to be sure. We have just fielded a new team, as you know. You will be informed, of course.”
“Your previous reports show him staying away from his farm for two weeks to a month at a time. Who minds the store while he’s away?”
“We do not as yet know.”
“How thorough have our investigations of him been during his more vulnerable travel periods?”
“We’ve had his luggage searched and found only cameras, film, technical works, papers, that sort of thing. The most common subject matter for any written material in his possession has been insects. He appears most thorough where his specialty is concerned. We have found nothing incriminating.”
“What about planting something on him?”
“It is contraindicated because of his stature in education. Too many would believe his protestations.”
She sat back then, quiet for a moment. Presently, she said, “You will inform the Chief that there must be a profit in this somewhere. We are not satisfied.”
Not satisfied! Peruge thought, tapping his finger impatiently on the taxi’s black plastic seat. But they were afraid, and that was enough for the time being. If the actual material of the Project 40 file panned out, if it developed along the lines he and the Chief had purposely not reported, there would be profits enough for all, including Dzule Peruge. It would never be a weapon, of course. The thing created too much heat in its own circuits. But at low temperatures, that heat might be translated into an induced heat for metal and plastic products. At the very least, it would transform metallurgy, reducing present costs by a breathtaking factor. There’d be profit in that!
Brood instructions for selected workers.
We use the language of the Outside, but with our own meanings. It is important that the key distinctions not be confused. The practices of concealment demand this. Because we are virtually defenseless against the best forces of the Outside, our major defense remains in their never learning that we live among them, patterning ourselves after Hive creatures.
As the afternoon above Hellstrom’s valley wore on, Depeaux began reflecting on the briefing sessions with Merrivale. It was a matter of emphasis, but he began to wonder just how many agents had been wasted on this project. Merrivale was a very queer duck—that damned affected British accent and all. There had been times when he gave off the distinct impression that he admired Hellstrom. It was Merrivale’s pattern to admire only success, but it was an admiration always tinged with fear. The closer to Merrivale the success occurred, the greater his fear.