Enigma by Michael P. Kube-McDowell Read Free Book Online Page B

taken aback. “Neale.”
    She glanced at the flat data-display slate lying on her lap. “So, Thackery, you want to be famous.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “You watched Dove ’s homecoming and you’d like to go out and become a conquering hero just like its crew.”
    Thackery’s face wound up into a look of puzzlement. “Is that in my file? I never—”
    “Oh, come now, it’s all right to admit it. I’m one of them, after all. I know what it’s like.”
    “Sir—”
    “You’re presuming again.”
    Thackery blinked. “I’d guess I’m more likely to end up forgotten here than famous. More of us will go out than will ever come back.”
    “Quite true,” Neale said, a hard edge to her voice. “Do you know why? Because coming back is a lot harder than leaving. Ask my shipmates from Dove , trying to adjust at Benamira. We would never have brought the Pathfinders back if we hadn’t promised the crews they’d see Earth again. And we might not have kept that promise if those ships hadn’t needed major refits to be useful during Phase II, refits that the advance bases aren’t yet equipped to handle. But this is the last time that’ll be true. From now on, the advance bases will be the staging points.”
    “I understand.”
    “Do you?” she asked skeptically. “Turn your chair to face the far wall and place your hands over the silver band at the end of each armrest. I’m going to show you some pictures and find out what you think of them.”
    The room lights dimmed, and the first image appeared on the floor-to-ceiling flatscreen: weathered rust-colored spires casting long shadows on the jagged rivercourse.
    “Grand Canyon. Northern section, I think,” Thackery said.
    “This isn’t a geography test,” she said with annoyance. “The monitors will tell me what I want to know.” Glowing numbers on Neale’s slate told of Thackery’s galvanic skin response and heart rate.
    Five seconds later, the Grand Canyon was replaced by a view of the Lagoon Nebula, and both of Thackery’s readings jumped. They remained high for the next photo, three bare-breasted women walking along a sun-drenched Mediterranean beach, then nosedived when a nude, well-muscled man appeared in their place.
    The images came one after another:
    —a snowfield in the Himalayas.
    —the hilly streets and Victorian homes of San Francisco.
    —two men kissing.
    —the Virgo galaxies.
    —a young couple holding their toddler on the back of a carousel horse.
    —the capital city of the Jouma colony.
    —Jupiter.
    Neale studied Thackery as each new image appeared, while the slate recorded the data from the biosensors. Despite her rebuke, Thackery silently mouthed the identity of many of the images as they appeared, and smiled to himself at the sight of Philadelphia’s Fairmont Park. And he jerked reflexively when the portrait which had once accompanied Andra Thackery’s newsnet columns appeared.
    Then the lights went up, and Thackery shot Neale a questioning look. “What kind of test was that?”
    “I find it useful to know something about the strength of a prospective surveyor’s attachments,” she said idly. “As well as the direction of their sexual proclivities.”
    “Do I get to know how I did?”
    A faint smile appeared on her lips. “No.” She touched an icon on “her slate and the display changed. “You have an odd background, Thackery. Six years in the GS track, and two at Georgetown—they don’t let too many get away. Then three at Tsiolkovsky.”
    “I’ve worked hard to develop my tech skills.”
    “Don’t apologize. I like people with odd backgrounds. The candidates I’ve seen so far could have come out of a cookie cutter. Study linguistics?”
    “Eight years. That’s a core subject.”
    “Anything practical in it?”
    “I can tell what era you grew up in by the way you refuse to use token honorifics, or to let me call you Commander when I’m not under your command. Most people probably just think you’re