“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got plenty enough to do, that’s for sure.”
“You never got very far on the book you were talking about,” Hunt remarked. “Remember, you were going to find out who were really the Jevlenese agents, and get the story straight for once.”
“That seems tame now. As we said, everyone’s doing it. And look at all those other things that I put a lot of effort into. Do people really care what the true story is?” She sipped her drink and thought for a moment. “Anyhow, I’ve got a much more interesting story now, that nobody else is doing: where the world of Earth’s mythology came from, and where it’s actually still real, right now, today. So maybe I’ll be spending a lot more time in Washington. After all, that’s where all my sources will be. How do you reckon Gregg would feel about letting me have some UNSA help on that?” She eyed him coquettishly, conveying that her real question had more to do with how he felt about it.
Hunt sat back and regarded the enticing lines of her face and her sweep of raven hair contemplatively. The familiarity of the company and the surroundings from what seemed a long time ago evoked recollections; a reawakening of feelings which the pressure of events had forced into the background ever since they arrived on Jevlen. Now that they had left it, the influence that the planet and its circumstances had been exerting upon all of them unconsciously was gone also. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, and with nothing calling for immediate attention or pressing upon his mind for once, the memories of easier times and the associations that came with them flowed back like a mellow glow. The impish look on Gina’s face was the same as he had seen that night when they’d had dinner in Washington. He got the feeling, suddenly, that she had recognized the same thing awhile back and had been waiting for him to catch up.
He raised his glass, caught her eye over the top of it, and grinned. She smiled back enigmatically.
“Have you got used to it yet?” he asked. “The feeling of having two independent sets of memories, but knowing that they were both happening at the same time?”
“There’s been a lot of new things to have to get used to,” she said distantly. “All kinds of things coming hack that I seem to remember…“
“Funny, isn’t it?”
“How life sometimes gets swamped by other events?”
“All those things that should have happened but somehow never did.” Hunt glanced back at the others for a second, wondering what the best way would be of extricating themselves without being too obvious. As he looked back and was about to say something more, Gina sipped her drink and pulled a face suddenly. “Oh, I wanted vodka and lime. This is gin. I wonder if I can get him to change it.”
“Here, let me. I-” But before Hunt could do anything, she stood up and disappeared back toward the bar with her glass. Hunt watched as she threaded between the late-nighters, thinking it odd because he remembered her tasting it earlier. His puzzlement grew when she slipped onto an empty stool, and he saw Nick gesture down at her drink and ask her something; she nodded to indicate that everything was fine. Then she raised the glass and took a sip from it. Then, after a few seconds, her eyes wandered across to look back at Hunt.
Slow, slow, slow, he told himself, and looked at the rest of the group again. Danchekker was expostulating on inheritance mechanisms, and all of the others were engrossed except Nixie, who was looking at Hunt in a knowing kind of way with a smile on her lips. She winked at him and nodded, indicating the others with a toss of her head in a way that said she would take care of it. Hunt rose and sauntered over to join Gina at the bar.
She waited, looking at him curiously. There wasn’t much need for spelling things out.
“I’d hate to tear you away from VISAR… I mean, seeing as you had such an interesting time on the way out,” he said, looking at his drink and swirling it around in the glass.
“Oh, that was just a Disney World attraction,” she said. “I think I’ve had about enough of that for a long time.”
Hunt lifted the glass and emptied it. “Was I really in that fantasy you mentioned once?” he asked.
“I told you, you’d have to tell me yours for me to tell you mine,” she answered.
They looked at each other questioningly. Her eyes were laughing. He set down the glass and took hers from her fingers. She stood up, and they began walking toward the door.
“You know, it’s a pity Sandy isn’t on board,” Hunt said lightly. “Then we could really have found out, couldn’t we?”
Gina slapped him playfully on the arm. “Are all the English that romantic?”
“Oh no,” he assured her. “One has to work at it.”
They laughed, entwined their fingers together, and left the lounge, heading for the corridor that led to the cabin suites.
By that time, the Vishnu had passed beyond the orbit of Athena’s outermost planet and was approaching the i-space entry port being projected from Thurien. After transfer, it would emerge back into normal space somewhere beyond Pluto, twenty hours’ flight time from Earth.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JAMES P. HOGAN was born in London in 1941 and educated at the Cardinal Vaughan Grammar School, Kensington. He studied general engineering at the Royal Aircraft Establishment, Earn-borough, subsequently specializing in electronics and digital systems. In mid-1977, he moved from England to the United States to become a Senior Sales Training Consultant, concentrating on the applications of minicomputers in science and research for DEC. At the end of 1979, Hogan opted to write full time, and he now lives in Ireland.