bathrobe.
Because of her resentment over her husband’s absence, she was in an especially bad mood when the telephone beeped for her attention while she was programming dinner.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mrs. Rheinhardt?” an elderly, silver-haired man asked as he gazed out at her from the screen. A perceptible accent accompanied the words. It took Salli a moment to realize who he was.
“Citizen Vasloff!”
“Have I caught you at a bad time, Mrs. Rheinhardt? My chronometer assures me that it is not yet dinnertime in your zone. Perhaps you eat early?”
“No, you aren’t interrupting, Citizen. And please, call me Salli.”
“Very well, Salli. And I am Mikhail.”
“To what do I owe this honor, Mikhail?”
“One of the joys of my position, Salli, is the opportunity to speak to organization members who have done us particularly good service over the years. I understand from your section leader that you were responsible for coordinating our grassroots letter writing campaign in your city last year.”
“It wasn’t difficult, Mikhail. I merely called a few friends, who called a few of their friends.”
Vasloff held up a hand in a restraining gesture that was distorted by his hand being too close to the phone pickup on the other end.
“Please, dear lady. Do not make light of your efforts. If the truth be told, it is the work of you and thousands like you who make Terra Nostra possible. I am afraid that those of us on the firing line do not acknowledge our debts to the rank-and-file often enough.”
“Is that why you are calling me now, Mikhail?”
Vasloff smiled. “I think you are sufficiently perceptive to know better than that, Salli. No, I am speaking to you because a computer check of the membership has revealed that you are uniquely positioned to help the organization at this time. Can we count on you?”
“Certainly, Mikhail. What can I do to help?”
“I understand that Professor Rheinhardt is in orbit at the moment, on assignment for the university.”
Salli gazed at the beatific features of the man who was said to have done more to stem the useless flood of resources to the stars than any other. There was something in his expression that told her the question was of more than passing interest.
“Why, yes. He is aboard PoleStar doing microbiological studies for the Stellar Survey.”
“PoleStar? I thought the survey confined its studies mostly to High Station.”
“Usually, they do. At least, the other three times Ben has worked for the Survey, that is where he has done his work.”
“So why PoleStar this time?”
“I don’t know. Ben does not speak about his work on an open telephone circuit. He does not want to take a chance on any discovery he may have made being ruled in the public domain. Also, I get the impression that information is being much more controlled this time.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, he is only allowed to call once a week. When he was aboard High Station, we used to talk nightly.”
“And the other things?”
“When we do speak, there is a five second delay between the time I talk and the time he answers.”
“That should not be. PoleStar is in Earth orbit. Communications delay is no greater from there than for point-to-point surface circuits. You are telling me that they have a computer monitoring his calls?”
“I believe so.”
“And he has not told you anything about what he is working on?”
“Not a hint. In fact, the one time the conversation started to drift in that direction, he was quick to change the subject.” Salli Rheinhardt hesitated, wondering how much she should reveal to this famous stranger.
Vasloff recognized the hesitation for what it was and smiled. “You can be sure that any confidences will be kept, Salli, and I would not be asking if it weren’t important to the cause.”
“He has never said anything, you understand, but we have been married long enough that I have no trouble reading his emotional state.
Because of her resentment over her husband’s absence, she was in an especially bad mood when the telephone beeped for her attention while she was programming dinner.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mrs. Rheinhardt?” an elderly, silver-haired man asked as he gazed out at her from the screen. A perceptible accent accompanied the words. It took Salli a moment to realize who he was.
“Citizen Vasloff!”
“Have I caught you at a bad time, Mrs. Rheinhardt? My chronometer assures me that it is not yet dinnertime in your zone. Perhaps you eat early?”
“No, you aren’t interrupting, Citizen. And please, call me Salli.”
“Very well, Salli. And I am Mikhail.”
“To what do I owe this honor, Mikhail?”
“One of the joys of my position, Salli, is the opportunity to speak to organization members who have done us particularly good service over the years. I understand from your section leader that you were responsible for coordinating our grassroots letter writing campaign in your city last year.”
“It wasn’t difficult, Mikhail. I merely called a few friends, who called a few of their friends.”
Vasloff held up a hand in a restraining gesture that was distorted by his hand being too close to the phone pickup on the other end.
“Please, dear lady. Do not make light of your efforts. If the truth be told, it is the work of you and thousands like you who make Terra Nostra possible. I am afraid that those of us on the firing line do not acknowledge our debts to the rank-and-file often enough.”
“Is that why you are calling me now, Mikhail?”
Vasloff smiled. “I think you are sufficiently perceptive to know better than that, Salli. No, I am speaking to you because a computer check of the membership has revealed that you are uniquely positioned to help the organization at this time. Can we count on you?”
“Certainly, Mikhail. What can I do to help?”
“I understand that Professor Rheinhardt is in orbit at the moment, on assignment for the university.”
Salli gazed at the beatific features of the man who was said to have done more to stem the useless flood of resources to the stars than any other. There was something in his expression that told her the question was of more than passing interest.
“Why, yes. He is aboard PoleStar doing microbiological studies for the Stellar Survey.”
“PoleStar? I thought the survey confined its studies mostly to High Station.”
“Usually, they do. At least, the other three times Ben has worked for the Survey, that is where he has done his work.”
“So why PoleStar this time?”
“I don’t know. Ben does not speak about his work on an open telephone circuit. He does not want to take a chance on any discovery he may have made being ruled in the public domain. Also, I get the impression that information is being much more controlled this time.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, he is only allowed to call once a week. When he was aboard High Station, we used to talk nightly.”
“And the other things?”
“When we do speak, there is a five second delay between the time I talk and the time he answers.”
“That should not be. PoleStar is in Earth orbit. Communications delay is no greater from there than for point-to-point surface circuits. You are telling me that they have a computer monitoring his calls?”
“I believe so.”
“And he has not told you anything about what he is working on?”
“Not a hint. In fact, the one time the conversation started to drift in that direction, he was quick to change the subject.” Salli Rheinhardt hesitated, wondering how much she should reveal to this famous stranger.
Vasloff recognized the hesitation for what it was and smiled. “You can be sure that any confidences will be kept, Salli, and I would not be asking if it weren’t important to the cause.”
“He has never said anything, you understand, but we have been married long enough that I have no trouble reading his emotional state.
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