The Avatar by Poul Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

such an exchange. Nevertheless, after the kids were back in the nursery and he had settled down for a drinkwith Lis, he took the precaution of remarking, “About my confinement to quarters, I do wonder if I can’t get leave to visit
Chinook
. There are several things that need my personal attention. Even Barbara could feel I’m anxious to take care of ’em. They can send a couple of their damn guards along to make sure I don’t blurt.”
    “Well, you can try,” she answered.
    “In a few days I might, when tempers have cooled.”
    As aware of his mood as their daughter, she changed the subject. They always had plenty to talk about. The business itself was endlessly varied. Chehalis held most spacecraft in the Phoebean System and conducted most undertakings off Demeter, on its own or under contract—transport, prospecting, mining, manufacturing, exploration, pure research. This inevitably involved it in widespread aspects of the colony’s economy and politics, and increasingly with Earth. Beyond that, without having ambitions for public office, they both took a close interest in public affairs; they went sailing or on wilderness trips together, skied, figure skated, played tennis and slapdash chess and Machiavellian poker, worked on their house and grounds; they often strolled out to watch the stars and wonder what dwelt yonder. This evening they got onto some recent discoveries, about an odd relationship between the dominant hypersauroids and the primitive theroids along the Ionian Gulf littoral, and almost forgot their troubles. Afterward the children made dinner enjoyable.
    But when man and wife alone were awake, Brodersen said, “I feel restless. Think I’ll tinker with that monofilm recorder. Why don’t you come along and help?”
    Such projects were not among Lis’ hobbies, but she caught his meaning and replied, “Sure.”
    They sought his workshop. In half an hour he had cobbled together the apparatus he wanted from an ample supply of spare parts and activated it. A whine filled the equipment-crowded chamber. He clicked his tongue. “Dear me. Inefficient.”
    “Is that to cover our voices?” she inquired.
    She had realized what worried him. People spoke Finnish on her parents’ farm in the Trollberg region, and he had acquired a few extra languages in the years when he knocked about Earth. But all he and she had in common were English—their everyday tongue—and Spanish, both of which would be known to any detective.
    “No,” he explained. “Sonics wouldn’t work, at least not without a lot of fancy heterodyning gear. This is no more’n a high-powered wide-band radio noise generator, which ought to jam electronic communications within a couple hundred meters, and seem accidental. I’m assuming the opposition has planted bugs along our walls, to pick up speech inside and buck it on to a receiver. Easy to do. Those things are small. You could lob ’em into the shrubbery with a slingshot.”
    Dread touched her. “Do you really believe Aurie Hancock would order that, or the police would obey? Demeter’s supposed to be a free society.”
    “Supposed to be. It’s actually a set of societies, you know, and a lot of mother countries aren’t exactly libertarian. If I were governor, I’d keep a few men on the force whose background doesn’t include scruples about privacy. Might need ’em someday to deal with criminals who were finding this planet a happy hunting ground.” Brodersen hitched himself onto the workbench and sat swinging his legs. “Anyway, Lis, I don’t
believe
we’re bugged, I’m
assuming
it. This matter’s too big for optimism. Tomorrow you have Mamoru Saigo come around with a detector and check for spy gadgets. If he finds any, hm, I’d suggest you destroy them, but first speak a sharp message that if this happens again, you’ll go to court and the news media both.”
    She was mute among the tools while her gaze searched him. The window behind her was closed and blinded,