Lucky Starr and the Big Sun of Mercury by Isaac Asimov Read Free Book Online Page B

did not agree with Dr. Peverale's views on the Sirians."
    Cook frowned. "I'd rather not discuss that."
    "I watched you as he was speaking. You disapproved, I think."
    Cook seat down again. His bony fingers clutched one another in a tight clasp and he said, "He's an old man. He's been all mixed up about the Sirians for years. Psychopathic, almost. He sees them under his bed. He blames them for everything. If our plates are overexposed, he blames them. Since he's been back from Skius he's worse than ever, because of what he claims he went through."
    "What was it he went through?"
    "Nothing terrible, I suppose. But they quarantined him. They assigned him a separate building. They were too polite sometimes. They were too rude other times. There was no way of suiting him, I suppose. Then they forced a positronic robot on him to take care of personal services."
    "Did he object to that too?"
    "He claims it was because they wouldn't come near him themselves. That's what I mean. He took
everything
as an insult."
    "Were you with him?"
    Cook shook his head. "Sirius would only accept one man, and he's senior. I ought to have gone. He's too old, really-too old."
    Cook was talking in a brooding sort of way. He looked up suddenly. "This is all confidential, by the way."
    "Completely," Lucky assured him.
    "What about your friend?" said Cook uncertainly. "I mean, I know he's honorable, but he's a little, uh, hotheaded."
    "Hey," began Bigman, stiffening.
    Lucky's affectionate hand came down on the little fellow's head and brushed his hair down on his forehead. "He's hotheaded, all right," he said, "as you saw at the banquet table. I can't always stop him in time and sometimes, when he's riled, he uses his tongue and his fist instead of his head. That's something I always have to keep in mind. Still, when I ask him specifically to keep quiet about something, he is quiet, and that's all there is to it."
    "Thank you," said Cook.
    Lucky went on. "To get back to my original question: Do you agree with Dr. Peverale concerning the Sirians in this present case?"
    "I don't. How would they know about Project Light, and why should they care? I don't see them sending ships and men and risking trouble with the Solar System just so they can break a few cables. Of course, I tell you this, Dr. Peverale has been feeling hurt for quite a while now… "
    "In what way?"
    "Well, Mindes and his group were established here while he was at Sirius. He came back and found them here. He knew they were coming eventually. It's been planned for years. Still, coming back and actually finding them here was a shock."
    "Has he tried to get rid of Mindes?"
    "Oh no, nothing like that. He's even been friendly. It's just that it makes him feel that someday he'll be replaced altogether, maybe someday soon, and I suppose he hates the thought. So it's pleasant for him to take charge and start a big affair about Sirians. That's
his
baby, you see."
    Lucky nodded, then said, "Tell me, have you ever been on Ceres?"
    Cook looked surprised at the change in subject but said, "Occasionally. Why?"
    "With Dr. Peverale? Alone?"
    "With him, usually. He goes more frequently than I do."
    Lucky grinned. "Were you there at the time the pirates made their raid on Ceres last year?"
    Cook smiled too. "No, but the old man was. We've heard the story several times. He was very angry about it. He's practically never sick, and this one time he was just completely out. He missed everything."
    "Well, that's the way it goes… And, now, I think we'd better get to the main business. I didn't like to bother Dr. Peverale. As you say, he's an old man.
    You're his second and quite a bit younger… "
    Lucky smiled.
    "Yes, of course. What can I do?"
    "It's about the mines. I assume that somewhere at the Dome there are records, maps, charts, something which will tell us the arrangements of the main shafts and so on. Obviously, we can't wander at random."
    "I'm sure there are," agreed Cook.
    "And you can get them and