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bothering about in archeology. Heck, Hypatia, you know that! You know how long
it takes to get one Doctorate, too. Four years to a Bachelor's, two to a
Master's, and then years and years and years of field work before you have
enough material to do an original dissertation. And a working archeologist,
one getting to go out on Class One digs or heading Class Two and Three, can't
just have one degree, he has to have a double-doc or a quad-doc." He shook his
head, sadly. "I've been an armchair hobbyist for as long as I've been a
history buff, dear lady, but that was all that I could afford. Books and
papers had to suffice for me."
"Then why the Academy?" she asked, sorely puzzled.
"Good question. Has a complicated answer." He licked his lips for a moment,
thinking, then continued. "Say I got a Bachelor's in Archeology and
History. I could have gotten a bottom-of-the-heap clerking job at the
Institute with a Bachelor's, but if I did that, I might as well go clerk
anywhere else, too. Clerking jobs are all the same wherever you go, only the
jargon changes, never the job. But I could have done that, and gotten a
work-study program to get a Master's. Then I might have been able to wangle a
research assistant post to someone, but I'd be doing all of the dull stuff.
None of the exploration; certainly none of the puzzle solving. That would be
as far as I could go; an RA job takes too much time to study for a Doctorate.
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I'd have been locked inside the Institute walls, even if my boss went out on
digs himself. Because when you need someone to mind the store at home, you
don't hire someone extra, you leave your RA behind."
"Oh, I see why you didn't do that," she replied. "But why the Academy?"
"Standards for scholarships to the Academy are, a little different," he told
her. "The Scholarship Committees aren't just looking for poor but brilliant
people. They're looking for competent people with a particular bent, and if
they find someone like that, they do what it takes to get him. And the
competition isn't as intense; there are a lot more scholarships available to
the Academy than there are to any of the university Archeology and History
Departments I could reach. All two of them; I'd have had to go to a local
university; I couldn't afford to go off-planet. Space Academy pays your way to
Central; university History scholarships don't include a travel allowance. I
figured if I couldn't go dig up old bones on faraway worlds, I'd at least see
some of those faraway worlds. If I put in for A and E I'd even get to watch
some of the experts at work. And while I was at it, I might as well put in for
brawn training and see what it got me. Much to my surprise, my personality
profile matched what they were looking for, and I actually found myself in
brawn training, and once I was out, I asked to be assigned to A and E."
"So, why are you insisting on partnering me?" she asked, deciding that if he
had manipulated her, she was going to be blunt with him, and if he couldn't
take it, he wasn't cut out to partner her. No matter what he thought
Hmm, maybe frankness could scare him away.
He blinked. "You really don't know? Because you are you," he said. "It's
really appallingly simple. You have a sparkling personality. You don't try to
flatten your voice and sound like an AI, the way some of your classmates have.
You aren't at all afraid to have an opinion. You have a teddy bear walled up
in your central cabin like a piece of artwork, but you don't talk about it.
That's a mystery, and I love mysteries, especially when they imply something
as personable as a teddy bear. When you talk, I can hear you smiling,
frowning, whatever. You're a shell-person, Hypatia, with the emphasis on
person. I like you. I had hoped that you would like me. I figured we could
keep each other entertained for a long, long time."
Well, he'd out-blunted her, and that was a fact And, startled her. She was
surprised, not a little flattered, and getting to think that Alex might not be
a bad choice as a brawn after all. "Well, I like you," she replied hesitantly,
"but ..."
"But what?" he asked, boldly. "What is it?"
"I don't like being manipulated," she replied. "And you've been doing just
that: manipulating me, or trying." He made a face. "Guilty as charged. Part of
it is just something I do without thinking about it. I come from a
low-middle-class neighborhood. Where I come from, you either charm your way
out of something or fight your way out of it, and I prefer the former. I'll
try not to do it again,"
"That's not all," she warned. "I've got, certain plans, that might get in the
way, if you don't help me." She paused for effect. "It's about what I
want to hunt down. The homeworld of the Salomon-Kildaire Entities."
"The EsKays?" he replied, sitting up, ramrod straight "Oh, my, if this weren't
real life I'd think you were telepathic or something! The EsKays are my
favorite archeological mystery! I'm dying to find out why they'd set up shop,
then vanish! And if we could find the homeworld, Hypatia, we'd be holo-stars!
Stellar achievers!"
Her thoughts milled about for a moment. This was very strange. Very strange
indeed.
"I assume that part of our time Out would be spent checking things out at the
EsKay sites?" he said, his eyes warming. "Looking for things the archeologists
may not find? Looking for more potential sites?"
"Something like that," she told him. "That's why I need your cooperation.
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Sometimes I'm going to need a mobile partner on this one."
He nodded, knowingly. "Lovely lady, you are looking at him," he replied.
"And only too happy to. If there's one thing I'm a sucker for, it's a quest
And this is even better, a quest at the service of a lady!"
"A quest?" she chuckled a little. "What, do you want us to swear to find the
Holy Grail now?"
"Why not?" he said lightly. "Here, I'll start." He stood up, faced not her
column but Ted E. Bear in his niche. "I, Alexander Joli-Chanteu, solemnly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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