Free The Sails of Tau Ceti by Michael McCollum Page A

chancellor’s couch. “Whiskey if you’ve got it, Hal.”
    The chancellor poured amber liquid into two long stemmed, low gravity glasses and handed one to Guttieriz. He then sat on the opposite end of the couch.
    “Have you made your decision, yet?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Time is getting short.”
    “How can I make a decision when I haven’t even been tendered a formal invitation?”
    “You’ve been asked if you would consent.”
    “That isn’t the same as actually being invited.”
    The chancellor removed a message flimsy from his pocket. “You’ll have your invitation this afternoon. I just received this from Jorgensen. He says that the board has reviewed the qualifications of several eminent linguists and has decided that you are most qualified to go out to meet these aliens.”
    “I could have told them that.”
    “What will be your answer?”
    Elias shrugged. The hunching of the shoulders imitated the motion by which one climbs out of a moonsuit. To a Lunarian, that particular gesture represented a desire to escape the suffocating feeling that comes from a dilemma with no easy solution.
    “To tell you the truth, Hal, I dislike being the subject of this … this … cattle show! If they want me, why didn’t they just ask me? I will not present myself like some prize pig down in the farm tunnels. Frankly, I have half a mind to turn them down.”
    “You mustn’t!”
    “Why not? Because the President won’t like it?”
    “Precisely.”
    “Then the President can step out the nearest airlock without a suit.”
    The chancellor sighed. Not for nothing did Eli Guttieriz have a reputation for being difficult. Still, the man was a genius in his field. “Look here, Eli. This alien business is important for the whole human race. These beings have crossed twelve light years of space. Think of what they know that we do not.”
    “I have thought about it.”
    “Have you really? What industries will their knowledge make obsolete? Who will gain power from their arrival, who will lose it? What will be the effect on those of us here in Luna?”
    “What the hell do I care? I’m a scholar.”
    “Let us not be coy, Eli. We both know that you have a soft spot in your heart for your adopted world.”
    “A soft spot in my head, you mean. I like it here because the people are not quite as rude as at home in Liverpool. Although, I do miss the English rains.”
    “The Martians have already snapped up two berths, and the terrestrials have a man in command of the expedition. You are Luna’s last hope. If you turn it down, then the offer goes to Hayward Wilson.”
    Guttieriz, who had been enjoying his position of power, was suddenly scandalized. “That poor excuse for a scholar? You can’t be serious, Hal!”
    The chancellor shrugged. “He scored rather highly on the board’s health evaluation.”
    “Especially the muscle between his ears, I imagine.”
    The chancellor’s expression clouded. “I need your answer, Professor Guttieriz. Will you accept or reject the offer?”
    “You are asking me to ignore the humiliation to which I have been subjected and do it for good old Luna?”
    “Screw the humiliation! Think of what this will do for your reputation. It won’t harm the reputation of this university, either.”
    Guttieriz drained his whiskey and set the glass down on the end table. “If the invitation comes this afternoon, I will communicate my acceptance by early evening.”
    “Excellent.” the chancellor said. “I’ll get to work arranging transportation. Thank you, Eli. I was afraid we were going to have to draft you into the navy and order you to go.”
    Eli laughed. He could just see himself sent out to do battle armed with a copy of Hamad’s Encyclopedia of Phonemes .
    #
    “So what did you think of our ship?” Van Zandt asked Kit Claridge. He, Kit, and Tory were seated in Phobos’s premier (and only) drinking establishment. The work crews had finished mounting the corvette atop the Starhopper