Hence your skulls—remember? No Shadows before that time, lots afterward? And the skulls the child found in the museum, that she tested with her compass thing. She told me the same thing.
The telephone rang. She broke off, shrugging, and Dr. Payne answered it. He spoke briefly, put it down, and said, "Weve got a visitor."
When hed shut the door again, Dr. Payne said, "Mary, are you mad? Wheres the sense in behaving like that?"
"Im glad you take my point," said the old man. "Youre quite right. There is a direction Id be especially glad to see you taking. And provided we could agree, I might even be able to find you some extra money from another source altogether."
"Because of the girl. He said he was looking for a boy of about the same age—he didnt tell me why —and this boy had been seen in the company of the girl who came here. But he had something else in mind as well, Oliver. He knew about the research. He even asked—"
Yes, I know, you havent published anything yet, and its a long way—seemingly— from the apparent subject of your research. Nevertheless, word gets around. And Im especially interested in that. I would be very pleased if, for example, you were to concentrate your research on the manipulation of consciousness. Second, the many-worlds hypothesis—Everett, you remember, 1957 or thereabouts—I believe youre on the track of something that could take that theory a good deal further. And that line of research might even attract defense funding, which as you may know is still plentiful, even today, and certainly isnt subject to these wearisome application processes.
"I beg your pardon? Youre not taken in by that old creep, are you?"
Dr. Malone looked at him clearly for the first time. She saw a man in his late sixties, prosperous, confident, beautifully dressed, used to the very best of everything, used to moving among powerful people and whispering in important ears. Oliver was right: he did want something. And they wouldnt get his support unless they satisfied him.
Dr. Malones shoulders slumped. Dr. Payne was watching the old man with cautious curiosity.
"I thought you were going to Geneva?" she said.
Dr. Malone looked at him in surprise. Hadnt Oliver just said he was going to work in Geneva? But he seemed to be understanding Sir Charles better than she was, for a flicker of complicity was passing between them, and Oliver came to sit down, too.
Dr. Payne tilted his plastic mug and drank the last of his coffee.
"No, no, its not settled yet," said Dr. Payne hastily. "Theres a lot to discuss—its all still very fluid.
And she said she could read that in the same way, and she knew about the state of mind, too—she knew it intimately."
"No, please, Sir Charles," he said. "Im sure Dr. Malone will hear you out. Mary, theres no harm in listening, for goodness sake. And it might make all the difference."
"But their terms would be... I mean, defense, for Gods sake. They want to find new ways of killing people. And you heard what he said about consciousness: he wants to manipulate it. Im not going to get mixed up in that, Oliver, never."
Sir Charles said, "Good day to you. Dr. Payne? Dr. Malone? My name is Charles Latrom. Its very good of you to see me without any notice."
"Well, I understand that youve made some fascinating discoveries in the field of consciousness.
"They offered you the job."
"It may be what I can do for you," he said. "I understand youre waiting for the results of your funding application."
"Do, please," said Dr. Payne.
"Well, there Ill stop. Heres my card so you can get in touch. I shouldnt leave it too long; the funding committee meets tomorrow, as you know. But you can reach me at this number at any
Dr. Payne handed him a mug, saying, "Sorry its rather primitive...."
"Wait a minute. Give me some sort of structure here. What are you saying? You saying shes confirmed what we know already, or that shes telling us something new?"
Sir Charles, please sit down. Can I get you some coffee?"
"And this policeman. Tell me about him."
"Theyll do it anyway, and youll be out of a job. If you stay, you might be able to influence it in a better direction. And youd still have your hands on the work! Youd still be involved!"
"Yes. Ive got to take it. You must see that."
Sir Charles spread his hands in a gesture of regret and got to his feet. Oliver Payne stood too, anxious.
"Not a name I know. Sir Somebody Something. Listen, Mary, Im off, you realize that, dont you?"
"Well, you see, they havent officially made the decision yet. It doesnt look promising, and Im being frank with you; they see no prospect of funding work of this sort in the future. However, it might be that if you had someone to argue the case for you, they would see it differently."
"For various reasons," Sir Charles went on, "I am in contact with the intelligence services. They are interested in a child, a girl, who has an unusual piece of equipment—an antique scientific instrument, certainly stolen, which should be in safer hands than hers. There is also a boy of roughly the same age— twelve or so—who is wanted in connection with a murder. Its a moot point whether a child of that age is capable of murder, of course, but he has certainly killed someone.
"Thats what she said. All right, its nonsense, but listen to it, Oliver, will you?" said Dr. Mary Malone. "She knew about Shadows. She calls them—it—she calls it Dust, but its the same thing. Its
You understand me.
And he has been seen with the girl.
"Does that mean you think well be successful?" said Dr. Malone, leaning forward, eager to believe him.
Dr. Malone rubbed her eyes. "His name is Walters," she said. "He said he was from the Special Branch. I thought that was politics or something?"
"Im not saying—"
"An advocate? You mean yourself? I didnt think it worked like that," said Dr. Malone, sitting up. "I thought they went on peer review and so on."
It was midmorning. Lyras Scholar, Dr. Malone, was red-eyed from lack of sleep, and her colleague, whod just returned from Geneva, was impatient to hear more, and skeptical, and preoccupied.
"Unfortunately, no. I must be blunt. Theyre not minded to renew your grant."
"And the point was, Oliver, she was communicating with them. They are conscious. And they can respond. And you remember your skulls? Well, she told me about some skulls in the Pitt-Rivers Museum. Shed found out with her compass thing that they were much older than the museum said, and there were Shadows—"
"Now, Dr. Malone, it may be that you have come across one or the other of these children. And it may be that you are quite properly inclined to tell the police about what you know. But you would be doing a greater service if you were to let me know privately. I can make sure the proper authorities deal with it efficiently and quickly and with no stupid tabloid publicity. I know that Inspector Walters came to see you yesterday, and I know that the girl turned up. You see, I do know what Im talking about. I would know, for instance, if you saw her again, and if you didnt tell me, I would know that too. Youd be very wise to think hard about that, and to clarify your recollections of what she said and did when she was here. This is a matter of national security.
"You cant turn down offers like that! Do you want this project to survive or not?"
She folded her arms.
"What about the skulls you tested? What about the Shadows around the ivory figurine?"
"That would be very kind," said Sir Charles, and sat again, with the air of a satisfied cat.
"Oh, please," said Dr. Malone. She pulled out a chair, and he sat down as if he were in charge of a meeting.
He paused there, and sipped the coffee. Dr. Malone couldnt speak. Shed gone pale, though she couldnt know that, but she did know that she felt faint.
"Who?"
"I used to be a civil servant. As a matter of fact, I was concerned with directing scientific policy. I still have a number of contacts in the field, and I heard... May I sit down?"
Dr. Malone felt like a drowning sailor being thrown a life belt. "Why ... well, yes! Good grief, of course! And thank you.... I mean, do you really think itll make a difference? I dont mean to suggest that... I dont know what I mean. Yes, of course!"
"What would we have to do?" said Dr. Payne.
What Im saying is that around that time, the human brain became the ideal vehicle for this amplification process. Suddenly we became conscious."
"Why should it happen particularly at that time?" he said. "Why suddenly thirty-five thousand years ago?"
"It does in principle, of course," said Sir Charles. "But it also helps to know how these committees work in practice. And to know whos on them. Well, here I am. Im intensely interested in your work; I think it might be very valuable, and it certainly ought to continue. Would you let me make informal representations on your behalf?"
"Come in," said Dr. Malone, weary but puzzled. "Did Ohver say Sir Charles? What can we do for you?"
"What are you saying?"
Terrorism, subversion, intelligence... all that. Go on. What did he want? Why did he come here?"
Tell me again," said Dr. Oliver Payne, in the little laboratory overlooking the park. "Either I didnt hear you, or youre talking nonsense. A child from another world?"
"Wait, wait," said Dr. Malone. "Wait a minute. The course of this research is a matter for us. Im perfectly willing to discuss the results, but not the direction. Surely you see—"
He shook his head and turned his back. Before he could answer, there came a tap at the door, and he opened it almost with relief.
He gave a card to Oliver Payne, and seeing Dr. Malone with her arms still folded, laid one on the bench for her. Dr. Payne held the door for him. Sir Charles set his Panama hat on his head, patted it gently, beamed at both of them, and left.
"How do you know that?" said Dr. Payne.
He ran his hands through his hair and said, "Well, not settled. Nothings signed. And it would be a different angle altogether, and Id be sorry to leave here now that I think were really on to something."
"Why have you come here now, then?" he said.
"It wasnt an offer," she said hotly. "It was an ultimatum. Do as he says, or close down. And, Oliver, for Gods sake, all those not-so-subtle threats and hints about national security and so on—cant you see where that would lead?"
He spread his hands helplessly, and said, To be frank... I cant see any point in the sort of stuff youve just been talking about. Children from another world and fossil Shadows.... Its all too crazy. I just cant get involved. Ive got a career, Mary."
"Geneva?" said Sir Charles. "Excellent place. Lot of scope there. Lot of money, too. Dont let me hold you back."
"Well, I think I can see it more clearly than you can. If you said no, they wouldnt close this place down. Theyd take it over. If theyre as interested as he says, theyll want it to carry on. But only on their terms."
time."
"Oh, who can say? Were not paleontologists. I dont know, Oliver, Im just speculating. Dont you think its at least possible?"
"Not at all. Shall I go on with what I was saying?"
"But what does it matter to you, anyway?" she said. "I thought Geneva was all settled?"
"Both. I dont know. But suppose something happened thirty, forty thousand years ago. There were shadow particles around before then, obviously—theyve been around since the Big Bang—but there was no physical way of amplifying their effects at our level, the anthropic level. The level of human beings. And then something happened, I cant imagine what, but it involved evolution.
"Dont expect me to reveal my sources," he went on, holding up his hand as Dr. Malone sat forward and tried to speak. "I mentioned the Official Secrets Act; a tedious piece of legislation, but we mustnt be naughty about it. I confidently expect some advances in the many-worlds area. I think you are the people to do it. And third, there is a particular matter connected with an individual. A child."
"Well, thats the end of this, then."
our shadow particles. And Im telling you, when she was wearing the electrodes linking her to the Cave, there was the most extraordinary display on the screen: pictures, symbols .... She had an instrument too, a sort of compass thing made of gold, with different symbols all around the rim.
"Thank you. I heard through a friend—Id better not mention his name; the Official Secrets Act covers all sorts of silly things—I heard that your application was being considered, and what I heard about it intrigued me so much that I must confess I asked to see some of your work. I know I had no business to, except that I still act as a sort of unofficial adviser, so I used that as an excuse. And really, what I saw was quite fascinating."
