“I suppose so,” Yeager said, though he didn’t sound convinced even to himself. “But whatever color they are, you’ll find more than its share of crooks in Bronzeville. Hmm-tell you what. What time do you get off here?”
“Whenever Dr. Burkett feels like turning me loose, it sounds like,” she answered. “I already told you, I’m new on the job. Why?”
“I’d walk you home, if you like… Hey, what’s so darn funny?”
Laughing still, Barbara Larssen threw back her head and made a noise that might have been a wolf’s howl. Yeager’s cheeks turned hot. Barbara said, “I think my husband might approve of that idea in the abstract, but not walking along the concrete, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s not what I had in mind at all,” Yeager protested. Not until the words were out of his mouth did he realize he wasn’t telling the whole truth. The front of his mind had made the offer innocently enough, but some deeper part knew he might have kept quiet if he hadn’t found her attractive. He was embarrassed that she’d seen through him faster than he saw through himself.
“No harm in your asking, and I’m sure it was kindly meant,” she said, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “Men only turn really annoying when they can’t hear ‘no thank you’ or don’t believe it, and I see you’re not like that.”
“Okay,” he said, as noncommittal a noise as he could come up with.
Barbara put out her second cigarette, looked at her wristwatch (the electric clock on the wall wasn’t running), and said, “I’d better get back to work.” She bent over the typewriter. Her fingers flew; the keys made machine-gun bursts of noise. Yeager had known a few reporters who could crank more words a minute than Barbara was putting out now, but not many.
He leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t imagine an easier duty: unless something went wrong inside Dr. Burkett’s office, or unless Burkett needed to ask him something (not likely, since the scientist seemed convinced he already knew everything himself), he had nothing to do but sit around and wait.
A lot of people would have got bored in a hurry. Being a veteran of long hours on trains and buses, Yeager was made of tougher stuff than that. He thought about baseball, about the science fiction he read to kill time between one town and the next, about the Lizards, about his small taste of combat (plenty to last him a lifetime if he got his way, which he probably wouldn’t).
And he thought about Barbara Larssen. There she sat in front of him, after all. She wasn’t ignoring him, either; every so often, she’d look up from her work and smile. Some of his thoughts were the pleasant but meaningless ones with which any man will while away the time in the presence of a pretty girl. Others had a bitter edge to them: he wished his former wife had cared about him while he was traveling the way Barbara obviously cared about her husband. What was his name? Jens, that was it. Whether he knew it or not, Jens Larssen was one lucky fellow.
After a while, the door to Dr. Burkett’s office opened. Out came Burkett, looking plump and pleased with himself. Out came Ristin and Ullhass. Yeager wasn’t so good at figuring out what their expressions meant, but they weren’t in any obvious distress. Burkett said, “I’ll want to see them again same time tomorrow, soldier.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Yeager, who was not sorry at all, “but they’re scheduled to spend all day tomorrow with a Doctor, uh, Fermi. You’ll have to try another time.”
“I know Dr. Fermi!” Barbara Larssen exclaimed. “Jens works with him.”
“This is most inconvenient,” Dr. Burkett said. “I shall complain to the appropriate military authorities. How is one to conduct a proper experimental program when one’s subjects are snatched away at inconvenient and arbitrary times?”
What that meant, Sam thought, was that Burkett hadn’t bothered to check the schedule before he made his list of experiments. Too bad for him. Aloud, Yeager said, “I’m sorry, sir, but since we have a lot more experts than we do Lizards, we have to spread the Lizards around as best we can.”
“Bah!” Burkett said. “Fermi is just a physicist. What can they possibly have to teach him?”
He plainly meant it as a rhetorical question, but Yeager answered it anyhow: “Don’t you think he might be a little interested in how they came to Earth in the first place, sir?” Burkett stared at, him; maybe he’d assumed joining the Army precluded a man from having a mind of his own.
Barbara said, “Shall I schedule you for another session with the Lizards as soon as they’re available, Dr. Burkett?”
“Yes, do that,” he answered, as if she were part of the furniture. He stamped back into his private chamber, slamming the door behind him. Barbara Larssen and Yeager looked at each other. He grinned; she started to giggle.
“I hope your husband comes home safe, Barbara,” he said quietly.
