Gray began by apologizing for the fact that a dialogue was still impractical because of the time delay, but assured me that the ship on which he was traveling was making all haste.
I wanted to introduce myself to you as soon as possible, Mr. Tamlin, he added, half-apologetically. I dont know whether my reputation has preceded me, or whether you have had a chance to look into my background, but I wanted to reassure you that I am neither as unworldly nor as narrowly obsessed with matters of mortality as I am sometimes
thought to be. I am traveling to Excelsior as the representative of an association of academic interests, and it is on their behalf that I am inviting you to take up employment
At this point the sim suffered a short burst of interference, and the transmission was interrupted.
Sorry about that, Gray said, when his false face had coalesced again. A close encounter with a snowball, I think. A constant hazard hereabouts one with which this glorified sardine can is barely equipped to deal.
I was impressed by the fact that he knew what a sardine can was, until I remembered that he was a historian. Like Davida, he was probably cutting the cloth of his conversation in the hope of suiting me.
I am authorized to offer you an appointment as a lecturer in twenty-second-century history, Mr. Tamlin, he went on. You will undoubtedly receive other offers of employment, perhaps at much larger salaries, but I believe that you might find an academic appointment to be more desirable, on the grounds of congeniality and freedom of opportunity. It might well be the most comfortable way for you to make use of your uniquely specialized knowledge, and it would certainly make matters easier for those of us who believe that we have much to learn from you. I am looking forward to meeting you in person, and I hope that we shall soon have an opportunity to discuss this matter in detail. Please give it serious consideration. Thank you for listening.
He vanished into the ether, leaving me staring at a rest-pattern.
I felt suddenly uncomfortable, totally unsure as to how I was supposed to interpret what hed said. Had he been issuing a cryptic warning? Had he suggested that he could offer congeniality and freedom of opportunity because he wanted me to understand that others would want to restrict my freedom and threaten my congeniality? Or was I just being paranoid?
I got rid of the hood again, and got up from my specially commissioned chair. I stretched my limbs, although I didnt need to. I knew that my every move was being watched, and that my reaction to what Mortimer Gray had said would be carefully measured.
I felt unusually strong, but I knew that was an illusion of the low gravity. I walked back to the picture window. It was still showing the star field, and I wondered what the watchers would read into my decision to keep it that way. I wondered, too, how I should interpret my own action. Did I think I needed to be constantly reminded of the fact that I was a long way from Earth?
I was surprised by Grays offer as well as puzzled. I couldnt help wondering whether he and his fellows might be laboring under a misconception as to who and what I had been before being committed to SusAn. I couldnt quite believe that it was an offer hed have extended to any common or garden-variety criminal. The more I thought about it, though, the more the message seemed like a preemptive strike and the fact that it had come in at the same time as another suddenly ceased to look like a coincidence.
Marveling at the thought that I might be able to start out on a new career path suddenly seemed to be a silly way to waste time. I asked my patient monitors to display the second message in the window, to save me the bother of putting the hood on again.
This one was from the UN executive who was presumably also a member of the Hardinist Cabal: Michael Lowenthal. Unless his sim had been subtly enhanced, he seemed to be a little taller than me, but that might have been an illusion generated by the fact that he seemed to be hovering in empty space outside the room. His complexion wasnt quite as dark as mine, but his neatly sculpted features made him substantially more handsome and his smartsuit was masterpiece enough to make Grays, let alone mine, look like the next best thing to a prison uniform. His hair was a neutral shade of brown, but that only served to emphasize the classicism of his features.
Lowenthal introduced himself as the Secretary to the Ecological Planning Department of the World Government, but I wasnt stupid enough to think that he was any mere bureaucrat. Like Gray, he was wrapped up in a cocoon in a flying sardine can, but his sim carried his favorite virtual environment with it. No ancient books for Michael Lowenthal: his background was Amundsens central square, with the UN parliament building directly behind him, reduced by a trick of perspective to near insignificance.
Im calling ahead to prepare the ground for our first meeting, Mr. Tamlin, Michael Lowenthal said. I wanted you to know as soon as possible that the United Nations is not merely willing but eager to facilitate your return to Earth and to provide for your rehabilitation and reeducation. I can assure you that any crimes and