Free The Forge of God by Greg Bear Page A

said;
    "I'd like to book a room for tomorrow."
    "I'm sorry, sir, we can't do that. We're completely full."
    "Can I make a reservation for your dining room, then?"
    "The inn is closed for the next few days, sir."
    "Big traveling party?" Hicks asked, his smile broadening. "Special reservations?"
    "I can't tell you that, sir."
    "Why not?"
    "I'm not allowed to give out that information now."
    Hicks could almost see the girl biting her lip. "Thank you." He hung up and fell back on the bed, suddenly' exhausted.
    Who else would have tracked this down?
    "Can't sleep," he resolved, sitting up again. He called room service and asked for coffee and a substantial breakfast—ham, eggs, whatever they had. The clerk offered a three-egg concoction with ham and bell peppers mixed in—a Denver omelet, as if pigs and peppers might be special to that city. He agreed, held down the button, and called the downstairs travel agency listed in the hotel directory.
    The agent, an efficient-sounding woman, informed him that there was a private airstrip near Furnace Creek, but the closest he could fly in commercially would be Las Vegas.
    "I'll take a seat on the next flight out," he said. She gave him the flight number and departure time—about an hour from now, cutting it close—and the gate number at Lindbergh Field, and asked if he would need a rental car.
    "Yes, indeed. Unless I can fly directly in."
    "No, sir. Only small airfields out that way, no commuter flight service. The drive between Vegas and Furnace Creek will take about two or three hours," she said, adding, "if you're like everybody else who drives on the desert."
    "Madmen all, eh?" he asked.
    "Madwomen, too," the agent said briskly.
    "Mad, all mad," Hicks said. "I'd like a hotel room for the night, as well. Quiet. No gambling." It would be late afternoon by the time he arrived in Las Vegas, and he would not be able to make it to Death Valley before dark. Best to get a good night's sleep, he thought, and start out in the morning.
    "Let me confirm your reservations, sir. I'll need your credit card number. You're a guest at the Inter-Continental?"
    "I am. Trevor Hicks." He spelled the name and gave his American Express number.
    "Mr. Trevor Hicks. The writer?" the agent asked.
    "Yes, indeed, bless you," he said.
    "I heard you on the radio yesterday."
    He pictured the travel agent as a well-tanned blond beach bunny. Perhaps he had been unfair to KGB-FM. "Oh, indeed?"
    "Yes. Very interesting. You said you'd take an alien home to meet your mum. Your mother. Even now?"
    "Yes, even now," he said. "Feeling very friendly toward extraterrestrials, aren't we all?"
    The agent laughed nervously. "Actually, it frightens me."
    "Me, too, dear," Hicks said. Delicious, lovely fright.
    Harry stood before the glass, hands in his pockets, staring at the Guest. Arthur conferred with two officers at the rear of the room, discussing how the first physical examination was going to be conducted. "We won't be entering the room this time," he said. "We have your photographs and… tissue samples from the first day. They'll keep us busy."
    Harry felt a small flush of anger. "Idiots," he said under his breath. The Guest, as usual, was curled beneath the blankets on the low platform, only a "foot" and "hand" sticking out from the covers.
    "Beg pardon, sir?" asked the current duty officer, a tall, muscular Nordic-looking fellow of about thirty.
    "I said 'idiots,'" Harry repeated. "Tissue samples."
    "I wasn't there, sir, but we didn't know whether the Guest was alive or dead," the Nordic man said.
    "Whatever," Arthur broke in, waving his hand at Harry: slack off. "They're useful, however they were taken. Today, I'm going to ask the Guest to stand up, allow us to photograph it… him…"
    "It," Harry said. "Don't coddle our prejudices."
    "It, then, from all sides, in all postures, while active. I'll also ask if it will submit to further examinations later."
    "Sir," the Nordic man said, "we've discussed this, and