Alex scrambled to his feet and they stood staring at each other.

“Who—” the woman said.

“I have it!” The words that interrupted her came from Bat. He had emerged from his apparent stupor and was suddenly energized. “Bengt Suomi is right. It is curious indeed, and it provides the question if not the answer.”

Alex looked at the woman and said, “I’m Alex Ligon.” She said, “Milly Wu.”

Bat waved his arms at both of them. “No time for that now. This has enormous potential importance.”

The woman said, “What about work on the SETI signal?” and Alex knew why her name sounded familiar.

“For the moment that is superseded.” Bat turned to Alex. “Even now, we must be thorough. I am ready to hear a summary of what the Ligon team considered important in their tests.”

Alex hesitated and glanced at Milly Wu. She shook her head and said, “I don’t understand one word of this. You might as well go ahead.”

Alex considered his answer. Bat was a devil for precision. “They didn’t say they considered that anything was important. They reported that one test gave unusual results.”

“Exactly. An excellent answer. Continue.”

“Ninety-four tests involved the chemical properties of the spherical nodules.”

“A waste of time and effort. Any salient results would surely involve the nodules’ structure, which would be destroyed by chemical tests.”

“Bengt Suomi took very seriously your request that they supplement your list with suggestions of their own. You asked that the team perform as complete a range of tests as possible.”

Bat bowed his head. “I did indeed, and I stand corrected. Bengt Suomi was right to proceed as he did. Continue.”

“Suomi happened to agree with your conclusion — after he saw the results. The chemical tests gave nothing. Then there were the structural microscopic tests, concentrated on geometry and mechanical properties rather than physical or chemical ones. They confirmed that although the nodules appear superficially as perfect spheres, they have a distinctive microstructure. Each one contains tunnels running radially in toward the center. The tunnels are minute, though wide enough to permit the passage of gas molecules. The team could not imagine any physical effect that might depend on such a structure. Bengt Suomi describes that result as interesting, but not informative.”

“An admirably cautious statement.”

“The remaining tests involve physics. The nodules are stable over a wide range of temperatures, pressures, and fields. Radiation and particle bombardment affect them little, except for lattice dislocation effects at high energy levels. Electric and magnetic influences appear unimportant, even with intense fields. There was just one test result that no one could explain. The nodules act as a catalyst in inducing phase transitions of certain gases.”

Bat was nodding. “That is indeed the anomalous test result. Phase transitions, moreover, for gases which do not exist in free form within the human body.”

“Apparently. Suomi found that the catalytic effect was the strongest — the phase transition is almost instantaneous — for free hydrogen. The effect weakens rapidly for heavier gases.” Alex was tempted to add, all this effort, and you’re saying you agree exactly with Bengt Suomi’s conclusions?

But Bat was not looking at Alex or at Milly Wu. He was staring at the display, which showed a magnified view of one spherical nodule. The dark pupils of his eyes had dilated against their luminous whites. He said, very slowly, “So we have the results I requested, and they prompt but do not answer the key question: Why would anyone place such anomalous structures inside the body of Sebastian Birch — a place where those structures are unable to exercise the only effect of which they seem capable?”

The question had not been addressed to Milly Wu, but she said, “Maybe as a protection? Maybe the nodules absorb free gases that shouldn’t be there.”

“I think not. According to these results, the gases are not absorbed by the nodules. They merely induce an instantaneous phase change, from a gaseous to a far denser liquid form. Therefore…” Bat did not complete his sentence. He puffed out his fat cheeks, frowned, and turned to Alex. “Do you know the exact location of the research quarantine facility where Sebastian Birch is being held?”

“I can find out.” A call to Karolus would provide that information, but Alex was pretty sure his uncle would not want his name mentioned.

“Do so. And then I have another request. It is possible that I am overreacting, but I would like you to go to that facility and locate Sebastian Birch.”

“I don’t think they’ll let me in.”

“You underestimate the power of the Ligon name. It commands authority. Once you find Birch, remain with him. Do not permit him to leave your presence, even for a moment.” Bat rose, an imposing presence that filled the room. “I will explain this later, but go at once, and quickly. Do not leave the research complex. I will join you there as soon as possible. Before you leave, tell me: will the link on these pages allow me to contact Bengt Suomi at any time and place?”

“It ought to reach him wherever he is. But it’s the middle of the night.”

“I am not unaware of that fact.”

Milly said to Bat, “It sounds like your meeting with me is off.”

“No. It is, I hope, merely postponed. Go with Alex Ligon, and help him if help is needed. You and I can meet tomorrow — if there is a tomorrow.”

He turned to the communications unit, ignoring the other two as though they had already left.

As they headed away along darkened corridors, Milly said, “What’s this all about?”

“I don’t know.” Which was the exact truth, but Alex felt compelled to add, “Although I have no idea what’s going on, I do know one thing. Magrit Knudsen is way up in the Ganymede power structure, and she was Rustum Battachariya’s boss for over ten years. She says that although he often understates, or refuses to say anything at all, he never exaggerates. I think we ought to hurry.”

31

Bat made it sound easy. You go along to where Sebastian Birch is being held, and exert your authority to make sure that Birch does nothing out of the ordinary.

Maybe it was easy, when you tipped the inertial mass indicator at over three hundred kilos; but Alex didn’t command that much weight to let him push people around. As they ascended the riser shafts and skimmed along interior slides, he saw Milly’s eyes on him and he read their question: Who is this Alex Ligon, and how is he going to do what even the Great Bat says is beyond his powers?

That was Alex’s question, too. When they had been traveling for twenty minutes he flipped on his wrist unit at emergency interrupt. He tried to call Bat, and for a change the line was open; but it was locked into high-priority mode with another caller. Alex’s ID check indicated that Bat was talking to Bengt Suomi.

It was the time for desperate measures. Alex placed another call. After a pause, in which Milly said “Who?” and Alex answered “Reinforcements,” the tiny screen came alive.

“Alex? What the bloody hell are you playing at?” The growl was muted and tinny, but the glowering face had lost none of its malevolence.

“I don’t know. All I know is, I’m out of my depth.”

“If you’re calling me at this hour because you’re in trouble with some goddamned woman…” The wrist unit must have captured Milly in its viewfinder, because Uncle Karolus went on, “My God, it’s not even the same one. You’re getting to be as bad as Hector.”

“I need help.”

“You need treatment. D’you know what time it is? You’re lucky I’m not a few years younger, or I’d be out trolling for my own trouble in the lower levels. What the devil do you want?”

It was a waste of time explaining the whole thing to Uncle Karolus, and anyway Alex didn’t know the whole thing. He sketched in the minimum, then said, “We’re on the way to the research quarantine facility that’s holding Sebastian Birch. I don’t believe we can march up to the entrance and expect them to do whatever we ask. Can you get us in?”