RETURN TO FARSIDE
Uhlrich was practically quivering with anticipation in the tiny reception area of Farside’s one-pad spaceport when the lobber landed. McClintock stood beside him, much cooler.
“Dr. Palmquist,” Uhlrich gushed as the Swede stepped through the access tube’s hatch, “how kind of you to visit our facility.”
Palmquist smiled genially. “I look forward to seeing the work you are doing, Professor Uhlrich.”
As Grant walked with Trudy and the other three men along the corridor to Uhlrich’s office he was amused to see the Ulcer fawning all over the Swede. But when they reached his office door, Uhlrich turned to Grant and said, “Thank you for escorting Dr. Palmquist here, Mr. Simpson. You can return to your regular duties now.”
Then the rest of them went into the office. Trudy glanced over her shoulder at Grant, looking surprised and concerned, but Uhlrich slid the door shut, leaving him standing alone in the empty corridor.
Nodding to himself, Grant thought, Right. I’ll get back to work while you try to impress Palmquist. I’ll build what you need built and you work on getting your f*cking Nobel.
Feeling justifiably resentful, Grant headed toward the teleoperations center, which was where he did most of his work. There, and in his one-room quarters. Uhlrich had not assigned him a private office of his own.
The teleoperations center was dim, shadowy, the only light in the chamber coming from the display screens of the consoles set against the far wall. A soft Cuban samba was purring from the overhead speakers. Josie Rivera was at one of the consoles, with narrow-eyed Nate Oberman sitting beside her.
What’s he doing here? Grant asked silently, bristling at Oberman’s presence. He’s not on the tech staff anymore, we’re carrying him in administration until his contract’s up.
What annoyed Grant most about Oberman was the guy’s snotty attitude. Nate could always get under Grant’s skin with just a few pointed barbs. Back in his ’roid rage days, Grant would have pounded Oberman’s face in. I would’ve sent him to the hospital, Grant thought. Or to the morgue.
Dr. Kapstein was feeding Grant extra medications to control his steroid-induced fury, but nonetheless he had tried to keep as much distance from Oberman as possible. So it was only natural that when Uhlrich fired him, Oberman concluded that Grant had been angling for his job.
“What’re you doing here, Nate?” he asked, trying to make his tone casual, noncombative.
“Just visiting,” Oberman replied easily. “Got nothing much else to do.”
Turning to Rivera, Grant asked, “What’s up, Josie?” as he slid the corridor door shut.
Rivera swiveled her chair toward him and gave Grant a flashing smile. “Nothing much, boss,” she said. “It’s been pretty quiet around here lately.”
“How’d your joyride to Selene go?” Oberman asked.
Trying to ignore his snide tone, Grant replied, “I did what McClintock wanted; picked up this Swedish guy and brought him to Uhlrich. No sweat.”
“You and Trudy Yost,” said Josie Rivera.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Must be nice, taking a day off with a good-looking chick,” Oberman said.
Before Grant could bristle, Rivera quickly asked, “Anything between you two?”
Grant felt astounded. “Between … what’re you talking about?”
With a knowing look, Rivera said, “Boy meets girl. It happens all the time.”
“Come on, Josie,” Grant sputtered.
Oberman asked Rivera, “He ever come on to you, Josie?”
She shook her head, turning down the corners of her mouth in mock regret.
“Maybe he’s gay,” said Oberman, with a malicious smirk.
“I could straighten him out, I bet,” said Rivera.
Grant remembered that he’d been attracted to Josie Rivera, with her friendly ways and generous figure. But he had made a decision not to get involved with any of the women at Farside. The place was too small, too inbred. A serious relationship, even a non-serious fling, could cause emotional fracture lines among the staff. Better to stay celibate, or go over to Selene for fun and games, Grant reminded himself. But it had been a long time since he’d had any fun and games.
He didn’t know how to handle their bantering, so he decided to ignore it. “Now look, we’ve got a lot of serious work ahead of us.”
But Oberman wouldn’t quit. “Work on who?”
Grant gave him a withering look. “When’s your contract up, Nate? It can’t be soon enough.”
Josie said, “Now boys…”
But Oberman pointed a skinny finger at Grant and replied, “I’m leaving at the end of the month. And I’m getting a position in the IAA office at Selene. Whattaya think of that?”
“Good,” said Grant, thinking, Anyplace but here.
“Anita Halleck herself recommended me,” Oberman added, sneering.
“And I thought she was supposed to be smart,” Grant said.
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Oberman growled.
For the first time since Dr. Kapstein had started controlling his steroid dosage, Grant felt the urge to start punching.
But he fought it down. “Forget it. We’ve got work to do.”