Quiet Invasion(48)
Vee hadn’t stood in Venera’s observation hall for eight years. She had forgotten the impact of being surrounded by the huge, constantly shifting landscapes of gray, white, and gold created by the clouds. Observation Hall was ringed, from the white floor to domed ceiling, with a seamless window of industrial quartz, so it was possible to stand and stare until you felt as if you were alone and exposed in the midst of that boiling alien mist.
Not that that’s going to happen tonight. Vee felt her mouth quirk up. The place is way too full.
A couple of hundred Venerans plus the investigative team circulated around tables loaded with appropriate predinner snacks and beverages. Stykos and Wray, camera bands firmly in place, flanked the tall dark woman who Vee vaguely remembered was head of meteorology. Lindi Manzur stood in front of the window, a little too close to Troy Peachman, who was gesturing grandly as he expounded about something. Vee smiled softly and turned away from their private moment.
Everyone in the gathering had made an effort to show some gold or silk. Vee herself had been torn between wanting to put on a good show for the cameras and not wanting to break the conservative veneer she’d been carefully cultivating during the entire week-and-a-half flight up here.
In the end, she’d selected a green-and-gold paneled skirt, with a green jacket trimmed with gold piping and an abbreviated gold turban with a green veil falling down behind to cover her unbound hair. It looked good enough to make the story cut, but not so outrageous as to offend academic sensibility.
Apparently, however, she was not circulating enough. Out of the corner of her eye, Vee saw Dr. Failia making a beeline for her.
“Good evening, Dr. Hatch. Thank you for coming.”
Vee shook her hand. “I’m sorry I’m late, Dr. Failia. I’d forgotten just how big Venera is.”
“After a week on a ship, it can take some getting used to, yes.” Dr. Failia nodded sympathetically. “Tell me, did you have a chance to review the visuals we’ve taken of the Discovery?”
“Yes, in between learning how not to get squashed and burned when we go down.” Vee smiled to let Dr. Failia know she was kidding.
Dr. Failia laughed once, politely. “And did you form any initial plans as to how to proceed?”
“Yes. The first thing we need is a spectrographic analysis, to find out what kind of laser we’re dealing with.” Vee warmed as she talked, excited about the possibilities her research might open. “Then, I think…” Vee’s gaze strayed over Dr. Failia’s shoulder. Michael Lum, the security chief, waited two steps behind her.
Dr. Failia followed her gaze. “Excuse me, Dr. Hatch,” she said hastily. “Please, help yourself to the buffet.”
Dr. Failia crossed quickly to Lum, who murmured something in her ear. They both looked up at the entranceway, just as Bennet Godwin walked through. Failia frowned and strode over to the latecomer.
Uh-oh, Vee turned away and skirted the conversational knots as she made her way to the food tables. Somebody’s getting demerits for tardiness.
The buffet was a good spread, with the Western traditional cheese and crackers, but also with couscous, falafel, and various flat breads, triangles of toast with what looked like mushroom pate, miniature empenadas, and some blue pastry things that Vee, with all her experience of artsy receptions, couldn’t put a name to. Glasses of wine flanked bowls of ginger and fruit punches, as well as silver samovars of tea and coffee.
Vee was debating over what to sample next, when she felt someone walking up to her side.
“Excuse me. Are you Dr. Veronica Hatch?”
Vee turned to face a sparsely built man with ruddy skin and tawny eyes. He was only a few centimeters taller than she was. He wore a blue baseball cap over his thick brown hair instead of a more fashionable brimless cap or half-turban. It made a pleasantly rebellious contrast to his formal gold-and-black tunic and trousers. Vee decided she liked him.
“That’s what they tell me,” Vee answered cheerfully and extended her hand. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He shook her hand with a good grip, which was also pleasant. Most people got a look at her long, thin hand and adjusted their greeting touch to something overly delicate. “I’m Joshua Kenyon. Josh.”
Ah. His name rang memory chimes inside Vee and brought up the titles of several recently surveyed publications. “Vee. I’ve read you.”
He did not, to his credit, look at all surprised. Dr. Kenyon had about a gigabyte of published work on tracking particle flow and interaction in the Venusian atmosphere using realtime laser holography techniques. Vee’s job, before she got her first patent and turned to experiential holograms, was “time-resolved sequential holographic particle imaging velocimetry,” which was the official way of saying she took four-dimensional images of particles in dense plasmas. Most people didn’t know she’d done serious lab work. Some refused to believe it.