index ii - RETROGRADE PLUS
So Kate ran away again. What elseis new?
'Not simply asgood as,’they said proudly, 'but a whole nine percent better.’
Notonly had Dr Grey achieved the artificial synthesis of retrograde,he'd manufactured retrograde PLUS, actually improved the Europanoriginal.
They were impressed.
There was a snag. ‘
‘We're notentirely sure,’ they admitted. ‘It would require extensivetests...’
Naturally, they got the go-ahead.
‘Naturally,’ Droover said. Andthere it was, proof, in a paper nutshell; illustrated, establishedfact.
All wonderfully obfuscated...
Lucky for herthe sea was nearer than it appeared. She stood on the pebbled strandand gazed at the faint outline of Bench 3, its misty forest shroudedin unfailing rain. Uncle Stylo hadn't tried to stop her, neither hadKate told him she was leaving. Onward and outward, impelled by aninvisible force, drawn on the threaded line, its farther endentwining, connecting all those whose lives intersected. hers.
IncludingStylo, she thought.
A boat arrived as she knew itmust, rising from the waves like a mythological chariot, attracted byher body's glow, a heat not unlike that which powered it.
Kate boarded gingerly, anervousness of apertures - windows in the cosmic ocean - and tongues- languages of space and time.
A bird overflew the blue deep,squawking.
Soon hershivering became vague. Like Bench 2 it shrank, then vanishedcompletely as the boat rounded the jungle coast, its trees tall andthick, bedecked in flowers, the perfect, virgin enclave.
Kate readily leapt ashore, onehand pinning down her hat, one hand sweeping a curve through air andbushes.
*
Morgan'scontract with the mining company expired after ten shifts, each ahundred Jovian days in length, every third of which he slept. Hedeclined a renewal, had what he wanted: cash for fuel and fuelsufficient to reach Luna where he planned on surprising a certain"reliable source". Lumping Jack didn't want revenge, merelyjustice. But then something happened that forced a change in hiscarefully resolved schedule.
Dr Henry Grey absconded...
‘Why?’ They sat in the crampedlounge of Morgan's guppy.
The elderlyscientist waved his stump excitedly. His brow sloped, heavy withmeaning. ‘The bonding's unstable,’ he said. ‘The whole twistedconcoction's anomalous! But will they listen? No! Almost the entireresearch staff has been bought-off with promises of lucrative newdeals - Deals! I ask you...And the military, the secrecy...’ Hiscracked voice descended to a whisper, losing itself in his beard.
He was mad, Lumping Jack decided.‘And?’ His senses glutted themselves on the possibilities...
‘I have a mission,’ said Grey.‘A conscience.’
‘Yes, but what's in it for me?’
The scientistgrimaced; he looked uncomfortable. ‘I was hoping to appeal to yourbetter instincts,’ he confessed. ‘Perhaps I was naive, eh,mistaken?’ He chewed his lips. ‘Ah...’ His thin frame meltedinto the stiff couch.
Frozen Hound manifested.
‘Ah,’ the doctor repeated.
Morgan shuffled; it was his turnto appear ill at ease. ‘Okay, I'll go along,’ he said, the dog'sbreath in his ear.
And a partnership, a fellowshipwas begun.
*
‘So we're prisoners,’ Byronsaid uselessly. ‘We tunnelled out of the stockade and came up inthe jail. Brilliant!’
*
Mordy blew his nose.
‘There's aspirin,’ offeredUncle Stylo.
‘No, nothanks - they make me sleepy.’ He pushed hair from his brow andstared at his father. ‘Which way did she go?’
‘On to three.’
‘And she's still there?’
‘That's what I want you to findout.’ Stylo put down his pencil and whistled...