Manning's quarters were larger than most of the prefab structures in the
new Earth town; the building was out near the end of one of the streets,
a single-storied plastic-and-metal box on a quick-concrete slab base.
Well, it was as well constructed as any of the buildings in the Edge
planetfalls, Rynason reflected as he knocked on the door. And there was
room for all of the survey team workers.
Manning himself let him in, grabbing his hand in a firm grip that
nevertheless lacked the man's usual heavy joviality. "Come on in; the
others are already here," Manning said, and walked ahead of him into the
larger of the two rooms inside. His step was brisk as always, but there
was a touch of real hurry in it which Rynason noticed immediately.
Manning was worried about something.
"All right; we're all set," Manning said, leaning against a wall at the
front of the room. Rynason found a seat on the arm of a chair next to
Mara and Marc Stoworth, a slightly heavy, blond-haired man in his
thirties who wore his hair cut short on the sides but long in back. He
looked like every one of the young corporation executives Rynason had
seen in the outworlds, and probably would have gone into that kind of
position if he'd had the connections. He certainly seemed out of place
even among the varied assortment of types who worked the archaeological
and geological surveys ... but these surveys were conducted by the big
corporations who were interested in developing the outworlds; probably
Stoworth hoped eventually to move up into the lower management offices
when the corporations moved in.
"Gentlemen, there's something very wrong about these dumb horses we've
been dealing with," Manning said. "I'm going to throw out a few facts at
you and see if you don't come to the same conclusions that Larsborg and
I did."