Greg shrugged, uncertain how to express it in words. "Something waiting."
"Look," Julia said. "We know there's been some kind of first contact; that there is, or has been, a ship visit the Earth, or at least the solar system. That's your presence; no big mystery there. What I want to know is, how is Royan tied in? That's what I came for, Greg. Where is he?"
"I don't know. But you were right about the flower being a message. It might even be a warning."
"Then why didn't he say so?" she asked hotly.
Greg realized how much worry and concern was bottled up behind her tawny eyes.
"Wrong question," he said. "We should be asking: what's he warning us about? And why such a baroque warning? If he had enough liberty to send off flowers, why not just give you a call? At the very least he could squirt us a data package."
"Bugger your questions, Greg! I want to know what's happened to Royan."
"Well, what did you expect? A séance?" He cursed as soon as he said it.
Julia blushed.
"No," Eleanor said levelly, her eyes never leaving Julia. "You want the girl, don't you? The one who gave Rachel the box."
The blush deepened, she nodded once. "She's the link. The only one we've got."
Greg looked at Eleanor, then back to Julia. "I can't," he said, appalled at how much it cost to say. "Not me, not any more. Sorry."
"Bloody right you can't," Eleanor said coolly. She fixed Julia with a stare. "Look around you; four children, a fifth on the way, the farm, the picking season."
"I know," Julia whispered. "But… aliens, Eleanor. It goes beyond me and Royan, though I wish to God it didn't. Who else can I trust? Who would you trust? You want these aliens to contact the religious fundamentalist movements first? One of the South American dictatorships? We have to find him, quickly and quietly. Greg's a gland psychic, worth ten of these new sac users, and he's had proper training. The best there is, and my friend, Royan's friend. Who else can I ask?"
Greg narrowed his eyes. Julia's compulsion had always been stronger than any psychic power. And combine it with logic as well…
"Give me a name, Greg, someone better; Lord, someone your equal would do."
"How the bloody hell would I know?" he snapped. "I left that game sixteen years ago. Victor? You must have whole memory cores full of psychics."
"I do," Victor said quietly. "And we reviewed them, that's why we're here. I'm sorry. These modern sac users are good, but they don't have your training, your strength. Mindstar hunted out people with the highest potential. Today, anyone who has a minor flash of talent can take a themed neurohormone and think he's some kind of warlock. In a lot of respects themed neurohormones are a step backwards; and no one ever developed one to boost intuition."
"Jesus wept!"
"Royan's out there, Greg," Julia said. "Negotiating with aliens, holding them off, leading them in. Lord, I don't know which. But I have got to find out, Greg. Please?"
He looked helplessly at Eleanor. She fumbled for his hand, and gave him a squeeze. He tightened his grip round her shoulder.
"He is a friend," Eleanor said in a tiny voice. She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself and failing miserably.
"Yeah, he is that."
"You're not hardlining, Gregory," Eleanor said firmly. "Not at your age."
He twisted under the look in her eyes, wanting to object, or at least have it said in private. The trouble was she was quite right. At fifty-two he would be hopelessly outclassed by today's youngsters. Logic and intuition were in concord over that, worst luck. And if there was one certainty about all of this, there was going to be trouble. Royan's method of contact alone was evidence of that.
Nothing ever simple, nothing ever straightforward. His bloody life story.
"No problem in that direction, at all," Victor said smoothly. "One of Event Horizon's security crash teams will be on permanent alert to assist you. With hypersonic transport, they can be anywhere on the globe within forty minutes. And of course you'll have as many of my hardliners accompanying you as you want. All you have to do is ask the questions."
"No," Greg said. "If I'm doing this then I want someone I know watching my back. Someone who's reliable, someone who's good."
"Of course," Victor said.
"I'll take Suzi."
"What?" Julia sat upright in her chair.
Eleanor stiffened inside his encircling arm.
Greg resisted the impulse to smile.
"She is one of the more competent tekmercs," Victor said grudgingly.
"Yeah," Greg said. "She ought to be. I trained her."
Victor raised an eyebrow. "I think you'll find she's grown a bit since those days. Reputation-wise, that is."
"I'm sure Event Horizon can afford her," Greg said.
"We certainly can," Julia agreed. "There will be one of Event Horizon's executive jets here for you first thing tomorrow morning. I've already cleared your entry into Monaco."
Eleanor's features hardened, spiking Julia with a voodoo glare.
"Fine," Greg said phlegmatically. Had there ever been a time when Julia didn't get her way? "We'd better visit Suzi this afternoon."
"You might find you need more backup than Suzi by herself," Julia said.
Greg gave her a hard look, he was rapidly tiring of revelations. Why?"
"The girl at Newfields, or somebody else, they took a sample out of the flower as well."
"You sure?"
"Yes. The lab pointed it out as soon as they saw it. One of the stamens had been cut off. And it was definitely a cut, not a break."
"Would a stamen be enough for a genetic test?" Greg asked. "I mean, this unknown who took it, are they likely to know the flower is extraterrestrial?"
"Yes. Theoretically, all you need is a single cell. A stamen is more than sufficient."
Greg rubbed a hand across his temple. "I doubt it would be the girl who took the sample."
"Why not?" Eleanor asked.
"Purely because she is just the courier, especially if Rachel is right about her being a whore."
"Courtesan," Julia corrected. "Don't fall into the mistake of thinking she's a dumb go-between. Believe you me, at that level there's a difference. She'll be smart, well educated, and knowledgeable."
"OK," said Victor. "But smart or not, courtesans don't own genetic labs."
"I agree," said Greg. "Somebody else apart from us knows about the alien. But until we know more about the girl, I couldn't even begin to guess who."
"Exactly," said Julia. "So will you take some extra hardliners?"
"Maybe a couple. But they stay in the background."
"I'll brief them myself," said Victor.
Eleanor rested her head well back on top of the settee's cushioning, eyes slitted as she stared at the ceiling. "What did the government say about the alien?" she asked.
Greg watched Julia flinch at the question. He'd never seen her do that before, not in seventeen years.
"They don't know yet," Julia mumbled reluctantly.
"When were you planning on telling them?"
"As soon as the situation requires it."
"You don't think it does yet?" Eleanor asked.
"All we have is supposition, so far."
"And the genes. They convinced you."
"The point is, what could the government do that I can't? Order a strategic defence network alert? I really don't think neutral particle beam weapons and pulsed X-ray lasers are going to be an awful lot of use against the kind of technology which moved a ship between stars, and did so undetected. Besides, think of the panic."
"All right," Eleanor said uncertainly. "But we have to make some preparations."
"Event Horizon is preparing," said Victor. "We're assembling a number of dark specialist teams, spreading them through our facilities, kitting them out with top-line equipment."
"What use is that?" Eleanor demanded indignantly.