When Duncan reached the hotel twenty minutes later (the “express” was somewhat misnamed) he had the second surprise of the day, though by now it was something of an anticlimax. The longest fax that Colin had ever sent him was waiting in the Comsole.
After the initial quick reading, Duncan’s first reaction was, “This time, at least, I’m one jump ahead.” But even that, he realized, was not quite true. When one allowed for the fact that Colin’s message had left Titan two hours ago, it was virtually a photo-finish.
SECURITY AAA PRIORITY AAA
INQUIRIES MNEMOSYNE DISCLOSE KARL LEFT MID MARCH ON NONSKED EARTH FLIGHT AND ARRIVED APPROXIMATELY TWO WEEKS BEFORE YOU. ARMAND PROFESSES SURPRISE AND TOTAL IGNORANCE. MAY BE TELLING TRUTH. IMPERATIVE YOU LOCATE KARL FIND WHAT HE IS DOING AND IF NECESSARY WARN HIM OF CONSEQUENCES. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION AS ANXIOUS TO AVOID PUBLICITY OR INTERPLANETARY COMPLICATIONS. YOU APPRECIATE THE SITUATION MAY BE TO OUR ADVANTAGE BUT DISCRETION ESSENTIAL. SUGGEST CALINDY MAY KNOW WHERE HE IS. COLIN AND MALCOLM.
Duncan reread the message more slowly, absorbing its nuances. It contained nothing that he did not know, or had not already guessed; however, he did not relish its uncompromising tone. Being signed by both Colin and Malcolm, it had the authority of a direct order—something rare indeed in Makenzie affairs. Though Duncan admitted that it made good sense, he could also detect an underlying note of satisfaction. For a moment he had an unflattering image of his older twins moving in like a pair of vultures, scenting a kill...
At the same time, he was wryly amused to see that Colin had drafted the Telex in a great hurry; it contained half a dozen superfluous words, most offensive to the economical maxims of the clan. Why, there were even ‘and’s’ and ‘the’s’...
Perhaps, after all, he was not suited for politics. He felt a growing disenchantment with these machinations. There were, despite genetics, subtle differences between the Makenzies, and it might well be that he was not as tough—or as ambitious—as his precursors.
In any event, his first step was obvious, especially as all his advisers had suggested it. The second move could be decided later.
It was no surprise when Calindy failed to appear on the screen of his Comsole, and he soon had proof that the social convention was justified. Unless there was some excellent reason, it was indeed bad manners to switch off one’s viddy circuit. Duncan felt both frustrated and at a serious disadvantage, knowing that Calindy could see him but he could not see her. The voice alone did not convey all the shades of emotion. There was so many times when the expression of the eyes could contradict the spoken word.
“Why, what’s the matter, Calindy?” said Duncan in feigned astonishment. He would feel genuine sympathy if she were indeed hurt; but he intended to reserve judgment.
Her voice was—could it be imagination on his part?—not quite under control. She appeared surprised to see him, perhaps disconcerted.
“I’m terribly sorry, Duncan—I’d rather not show my face at the moment. I fell and hurt my eye—it looks ghastly. But there’s nothing to worry about—it will be all right in a few days.”
I’m sorry to hear that. I won’t bother you if you feel unwell.”
He waited, hoping that Calindy could read the concern that he had carefully imprinted on his face.
“Oh, that’s no problem. Otherwise it’s business as usual—I’ve just cut out my weekly trip to the office, and now do everything by Comsole.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Now I’ve got a piece of news for you. Karl is on Earth.”
There was a long silence before Calindy replied. When she finally answered, Duncan realized, with amused mortification, that he was really not in her league. He could not hope to outwit her for very long.
“Duncan,” she said, in a resigned tone of voice, “you really didn’t know that he was staying with me?”
Duncan did his best to exhibit incredulity, shock, and umbrage—in that order.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he cried.
“Because he asked me not to. That put me in a difficult position, but what was I to do? He said you were no longer on good terms... and his business was highly confidential.”
Duncan guessed that Calindy was telling the simple truth, if indeed the truth was simple. Some, but not all, of his pique evaporated.
“Well, I’m upset and disappointed. I should have thought you’d have trusted me. Anyway, there’s no further need for—subterfuge—now that I know he’s here. I’ve an urgent message for him—where can I locate him?”
There was another long pause; then Calindy answered: “I don’t know where he is. He left suddenly, and never told me where he was going. He might even have returned to Titan.”
“Without saying good-bye? Hardly! And there are no ships to Titan for a month.”
“Then I suppose he’s still on Earth, or no farther away than the Moon. I simply don’t know.”
Oddly enough, Duncan believed her. Her voice still had the right of truth, though he did not delude himself about her power to deceive him if she wished.
“In that case, I’ll have to trace him in some other way. It’s imperative that we meet.”
“I wouldn’t advise that, Duncan.”
“Why ever not?”
“He’s—very angry with you.”
“I can’t imagine the reason,” retorted Duncan, swiftly imagining several. Calindy’s voice sounded such a genuine note of alarm that he felt himself responding strongly to her concern.
However, it seemed that this avenue was closed, at least for the time being. He knew better than to argue with Calindy. With a mixture of emotions, he expressed hopes for her continued improvement, and broke the circuit. He hoped that she would interpret his attitude as one of both sorrow and anger, and feel correspondingly contrite.
A minute later, he was looking—with some relief—at a screen that was no longer empty, and could reveal the other party’s reactions.
“Did you know,” he asked Ambassador Farrell, “that Karl Helmer is on Earth?”
His Excellency blinked.
“I certainly did not. He never contacted me—I’ll see if the Chancery knows anything.”
He punched a few buttons, and it was obvious that nothing happened. The ambassador glanced at Duncan with annoyance.
“I wish we could afford a new intercom system,” he said accusingly. “They cost a very small fraction of the Titan Gross National Product.”
Duncan thought it was wise to let this pass, and luckily on the second attempt the ambassador got through. He muttered a few inaudible questions, waited for a minute, then looked at Duncan and shook his head.
“No trace of him—not even a Terran forwarding address for any messages from home. Most odd.”
“Wouldn’t you say—unprecedented?”
“Um—yes. I’ve never heard of anyone failing to contact the Embassy as soon as they reach Earth. Usually, of course, we know that they’re coming, weeks in advance. There’s no law compelling them to get in touch—but it’s a matter of courtesy. Not to mention convenience.”
“That’s what I thought. Well, if you hear anything of him, would you let me know?”
The ambassador stared back at him in silence for a moment, with the most emphatic of smiles on his face. Then he said: “What do Malcolm and Colin think he’s doing? Plotting a coup d’état with smuggled guns?”