transparent cone and wheeled her into the main dome. Impani entered the shredded room. Wind swirled upward as if caught in a chimney flue. Debris stirred on the floor. She stepped gingerly as she glanced around.
She was not surprised when Mr. Hanson followed her.
“Shouldn’t you ask permission to be here?” he said.
She quirked her lip. “I’m with you. What more authorization do I need?”
He snuffled out what might have been a laugh and looked about. “Grafton was right. The place is torn up.”
“It’s not focused, though. This is more like rage.” She knelt. Gray-green smears stained the underside of the upended bed. “Do they always leave fingerprints?”
“Not that we’ve noticed.”
Impani glanced at him. Then, because she wanted to look knowledgeable, she took a specimen container from her belt and scraped a bit of the residue inside. She turned her attention to the flapping hole in the wall. “There are smears here, too.”
“Sure.” He shrugged. “That’s where the thing broke in.”
“But, look.” She held up a lacerated strip. “These fingerprints are only on the inside.”
CHAPTER 11
I mpani stirred her soup with a cup warmer until the electrodes glowed bright red. She lifted the mug and blew steam from the rim.
Across the cafeteria table, Mr. Hanson said, “So, you’re my son’s girlfriend.”
“That’s right.”
“At least his tastes run toward beautiful, intelligent women.” He drank from his own mug. “Why are you angry at him?”
For a moment, she wanted to deny it, but she gauged him to be shrewd enough to catch her in a lie. She sat back in her chair. “I feel that he should have stepped down as team leader because of lack of experience.”
“How’s he going to get experience if he doesn’t practice?”
His tone irked her. She looked away. “This mission is too high profile to use as practice.”
“And you think you should have been named team leader. Hmmm… Beautiful, intelligent, and ambitious.” He drank again then set the mug down. “Why do you think they gave him the job?”
“Because of you.”
Mirth touched his eyes. “Maybe. But that would imply that the executives at the Colonial Bureau care about my opinion. That doesn’t ring true.”
“Why not?”
“Because they already know my opinion. I think the Colonial Scouts are a waste of time, money, and lives. This planet is a prime example of the inefficiency of their reports.”
Impani frowned. “But Trace told me you got him into the Scouts. After he was arrested on that phony charge.”
“That’s not exactly true. I got him out of the penal colony. But I wanted him remanded to my custody. The court put him in the Scouts.”
Impani sipped her soup. His story didn’t match the one Trace told her. “So, you would end the Colonial Program altogether?”
“Not at all. I would use the Impellic rings to send probes. Analyze the atmosphere. Look for radio waves or other indications of civilization.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“My point, exactly.” He jabbed a finger toward her. “You’re doing this for the fun of it.”
“You’re wrong. I want to be the one who sees what no one else has seen. I’m doing it for the challenge.”
“Which brings us back to my son.”
“Trace is no challenge,” she blurted, then wished she had bitten off her tongue. “What I mean is we fit well together. He’s easy to get along with.”
“You feel attuned to each other?”
Sure. Trace was so attuned to her he didn’t even realize she was mad at him.
“Or could it be you are just biding your time and don’t truly love my son?”
She gnawed her lip. “I enjoy being with him.”
“But do you love him?”
Impani looked at her hands.
<<>>
T race stood in the cafeteria doorway and stared at Impani and his father. Their voices were too low to hear, but their demeanor was casual, as if they were old friends. How could she sit there and chat with him?