Code Of The Lifemaker

by Hogan, James

  business the team was in. Now that he saw that clearly, he was far from certain

  that he would be able to make the relationship work again.

  Thelma looked from side to side uncertainly, and then across at Zambendorf, who

  was watching curiously. She spread her hands and shook her head. "Well, I'm

  gonna say what I think everyone's feeling. Look, you know how it is with me—I'm

  a Ph.D. in physics and mathematics, but I've always protested a society that

  thinks more of performing adolescent Neanderthals than the people who design the

  amplifiers that they scream into. But with the Taloids I really feel we did

  something important for people who were worth it, and who genuinely appreciated

  it. And that was just a start. There's so much more to be done down there, and I

  think we could contribute a lot to that too. But I guess none of us is exactly

  crazy about the idea of . . ." Thelma broke off and gave Zambendorf a puzzled

  look as she realized that his eyes were twinkling roguishly. Her expression

  changed to one of suspicion. "Karl, you're up to something. What are you

  laughing at? You know something that you're not letting on about, don't you."

  Clarissa looked up at him. "What is it, Zambendorf?" she demanded. Zambendorf

  smirked back at her and remained silent. "Come on, you're not handing out

  tablets on some mountaintop now. Give."

  "Well, thanks to my power to divine the future by supernatural—" Zambendorf

  began, but Abaquaan cut him off.

  "Never mind all that crap. What do you know that you haven't told us?"

  "I don't exactly 'know' anything for sure yet, Otto, which is why I didn't want

  to risk raising anyone's hopes too soon," Zambendorf replied. "But I had a

  pretty good idea of your attitudes—I feel the same way myself. So I took the

  liberty of presuming—" The call tone sounded from the console behind West. "Ah,

  this might even be the news I've been waiting for," Zambendorf said as West

  swiveled his chair round to accept.

  "Is Karl Zambendorf there?" a NASO flight officer inquired from the screen a

  couple of seconds later. "This is Captain Matthews, calling on behalf of General

  Vantz."

  "Here, Captain," Zambendorf said, putting down his drink and rising to face the

  screen.

  "General Vantz would like to know if you and your people could be available in

  Globe I for an interview with him and Commander Craig immediately after the

  current shift—say at fifteen hundred hours. Would that be convenient for

  everyone?"

  "Oh, I don't think we have any prior engagements," Zambendorf replied airily.

  "Yes, thank you, Captain Matthews—that would be most convenient."

  "I'll put you down for then," Matthews confirmed. "Fifteen hundred hours, in the

  executive office suite, Globe I."

  "Did Vantz say anything else?" Zambendorf asked curiously.

  "Only that he didn't think there would be much of a problem," Matthews answered.

  "Commander Craig will need all the help he can get. I think you can take it

  there'll be a slot for anyone who wants one."

  "Thank you, Captain. That tells me all I wanted to know. Thank you very much

  indeed!"

  "Fine," Matthews said. "We'll see you later." The screen blanked out.

  Thelma blinked her eyes several times, shook her head, and whispered

  disbelievingly, "Did I really hear that? We're going to stay here with Craig's

  group at Genoa Base and wait for the Japanese? Is that what he said?"

  "Well, if you want to, anyway," Zambendorf said. "I mean, I didn't want to

  assume anything. I just thought—"

  "You didn't want to assume!" Clarissa exclaimed accusingly. "Hey, what is it

  with this guy? How long have you known us, Karl? So what did you do—go talk to

  Vantz?"

  "Yesterday," Zambendorf said. "He wanted to discuss it with Craig before

  committing himself. That was why—"

  "Hey, guys—it's okay!" Fellburg shouted, swinging his head from side to side,

  looking up, and beaming. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay." He burst into

  loud laughter and clapped Clarissa heartily on the back, causing her to slop her

  drink.

  "Hey, Kong—lay off of that, willya!"

  Drew West started laughing too, and so did Thelma. Massey caught Vernon's eye,

  and his face split slowly into a broad grin. Suddenly the whole room was full of

  noisy, excited, laughing voices. Zambendorf stood up amid a barrage of

  backslapping and raised a hand to acknowledge the congratulations coming from

  every side. "Tonight we must throw a party for all our friends, especially the

  ones who will be staying on," he said raising his voice above the commotion.

  "But before that, we can have a private celebration. It's time to move this show

  along—to the Globe IV Recreation Deck and the bar, I say! The first round is

  mine."

  Everyone began moving toward the door, and at that moment Osmond Periera burst

  in with Malcom Wade close behind. They seemed excited about something. "I've

  been studying the transcripts of some of the conversations with the Taloids down

  in Padua," Periera said, waving some papers. "All that business about the

  revolution and the new religion didn't just happen, you know, Karl. There were

  some good reasons—amazing things going on in the sky at the time, all well

  authenticated. I don't think we're the only beings who are watching developments

  down on Titan. There are aliens here too—alien UFOs around Titan!"

  Zambendorf brought a hand up to his face and frowned down at the floor over his

  knuckle. If he was going into a new line of business, there was no better time

  to start, he supposed. He drew in a long breath and looked up at Periera,

  hesitating for a moment as he searched for the right words. And then he saw

  Massey smiling ruefully and shaking his head behind Periera's shoulder. Massey

  was right—there was no point. With even a million years to try and explain,

  there would have been no point.

  Zambendorf sighed and draped an arm affectionately around Periera's shoulder as

  he turned him around and began walking him back toward the door. "Really,

  Osmond, my friend?" he said. "It sounds fascinating. We're just on our way to

  the bar. Why don't you and Malcom join us. You can tell us all about the UFOs

  there. It will be far more comfortable, and I'm sure you'd agree that we all owe

  ourselves some time to rest and relax a little, eh?"

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JAMES HOGAN WAS born in London in 1941 and educated at the Cardin I Vaughan

  Grammar School, Kensington. He studied general engineering at the Royal Aircraft

  Establishment, Famborough, subsequently specializing in electronics and digital

  systems.

  After spending a few years as a systems design engineer, he transferred into

  selling and later joined the computer industry as a salesman, working with ITT,

  Honeywell, and Digital Equipment Corporation. He also worked as a life insurance

  salesman for two years ". . . to have a break from the world of machines and to

  learn something more about people."

  In mid-1977 he moved from England to the United States to become a Senior Sales

  Training Consultant, concentrating on the applications of mini-computers in

  science and rese
arch for DEC.

  At the end of 1979, Hogan opted to write full-time. He is now living in northern

  California.