Manning was ending the session. "...Carl, be sure to get those studies
of the Outsiders artifacts together for me by tonight. And I'm going to
hand back your reports to each of the rest of you; go through them and
watch for those inconsistencies you skipped over the first time. We may
be able to turn up something else that doesn't check out. Go over them
_carefully_--all the reports were sloppy jobs. You're all trying to work
too fast."
Rynason rose with the rest of them, grinning as he remembered how
Manning had rushed those reports. Well, that was one of the privileges
of authority: delegating fault. He started for the door.
"Lee! Hold it a minute; I want to talk to you, alone."
Rynason sat, and when all the others had gone Manning came back and sat
down opposite him. He slowly took out a cigaret and lit it.
"My last pack till the next spacer makes touchdown," he said. "Sorry I
can't offer you one, but I'm a fiend for the things. I know they're
supposed to be non-habit-forming these days, but I'm a man of many
vices."
Rynason shrugged, waiting for him to come to the point.
"I guess it makes me a bit more open-minded about what the members of my
staff do," Manning went on. "You know--why should I crack down on
drinking or smoking, for instance, when I do it myself?"
"I'm glad you see it that way," Rynason said drily. "Why did you want me
to stay?"
Manning exhaled a long plume of smoke slowly, watching it through
narrowed eyes. "Well, even though I'm pretty easy going about things, I
do try to keep an eye on you. When you come right down to it, I'm
responsible for every man who's with me out here." He stopped, and
laughed shortly. "Not that I'm as altruistic as that sounds, of
course--you know me, Lee. But when you're in a position of authority you
have to face the responsibilities. You understand me?"
"You have to protect your own reputation back at Cluster headquarters,"
Rynason said.
"Well, yes. Of course, you get into a pattern of thinking eventually ...
sort of a fatherly feeling, I suppose, though I've never even been on
the parentage rolls back on the in-worlds. But I mean it--it happens, I
get that feeling. And I'm getting a bit worried about you, Lee."
Rynason could see what was coming now. He sat further back into the
chair and said, "Why?"
Manning frowned with concern. "I've been noticing you with Mara lately.
You seem pretty interested in her."
"Is she one of those vices you were telling me about, Manning?" said
Rynason quietly. "You want to warn me to stay away from her?"
Manning shook his head, a quick gesture dismissing the idea. "No, Lee,
not at all. She's not that kind of a woman. And that's my point. I can
see how you look at her, and you're on the wrong track. When you're out
here on the Edge, you don't want a wife."
"What I need is some good healthy vice, is that what you mean?"
Manning sat forward. "That puts it pretty clearly. Yeah, that's about
it. Lee, you're building up some strong tensions on this job, and don't
think I'm not aware of it. Telepathing with that horseface is getting
rough, judging from what you've told me. I think you should go get good
and drunk and kick up hell tonight. And take one of the town women;
they're always available. Do you good, I mean it."
Rynason stood up. "Maybe tomorrow night," he said. "Tonight I'm busy.
With Mara." He turned and walked toward the door.
"I'd suggest you get busy with someone else," Manning said quietly
behind him. "I'm really telling you this for your own good, believe it
or not."
Rynason turned at the door and regarded the man coldly. "She's not
interested in you, Manning," he said. He went out and shut the door
calmly behind him.
Manning could be irritating with his conceited posing, but his veiled
threats didn't bother Rynason. In any case, he had something else on his
mind just now. He had finally remembered what it had been about the
carvings over the Hirlaji building in the photo that had touched a
memory within him: there was a strong similarity to the carvings that he
had seen, through Tebron's eyes, outside the Temple of Kor. The symbols
of Kor, Tebron had called them ... copied from the works of the Old
Ones.
The Outsiders?