guest.
âIâll have a bourbon. A single-mash bourbon, no ice, no water, no soda, no anything,â said the general.
âYes sir,â said the mess attendant and went off, to return with the drink himself in a few minutes. A waiter was at his heels.
âWe donât want dinner just yet,â Mollen said. He looked over the attendantâs shoulder at the waiter. âCome back in about twenty minutes.â
Attendant and waiter departed.
âWell, hereâs to the hope the fishing was good,â said Mollen, lifting his glass. Jim drank with him, politely.
They talked fishing until they were halfway through the generalâs second bourbon; and by the time the first one had been finished, Jim was beginning to be pretty sure that for some reason Mollen was stalling. However, there was nothing much he could do about that but wait for his superior to get to the point.
ââThereâs Mary Gallegher,â the general interrupted himself midway through the second drink. He nodded across the dance floor, which the dining area surrounded.
Jim looked and saw her, just as Mollen had said. She was with some major Jim did not know who was wearing the aiguillette, or dress shoulder cord looped through one epaulet, that marked him as an aide to some high-ranking officer; and the two of them were just sitting down at a table at the dance floorâs edge, in plain view.
âSheâs got a working area of her own on Base here, with La Chasse Gallerie and a staff of her own,â said Mollen.
âYes sir,â said Jim. They looked away from Mary and her companion and back across the table at each other.
âThereâs a lot of politics involved in it,â said Mollen. He drank from his glass. âEver have much to do with politicians, Jim?â
âHappily, sir, theyâre above my range,â said Jim.
âDonât be so sure,â said Mollen. Below the still-dark hair on his round head, his bulldog face was somber. âDealing with themâs supposed to be above my range, too. But the fact is every one of us is affected by what they do to the Service, generally. In this case, the fact weâve got Mary and her lab, as itâs called, here on Base is all a matter of politics.â
âIs that so, sir?â He had not known anything about Mary and a lab. He was being more polite than anything. It seemed to him the general was still just making conversation.
âYes, thatâs so. And itâs something that concerns you and me, particularly,â said Mollen. âThey raised hell with me when they discovered Iâd let you go off on leave. Luckily, they were ready to listen when I said that it might attract more attention to call you back, suddenly, than it would be to let you come back in your own time. I didnât think youâd stay much longer than you did, anyway, knowing you.â
âYes sir,â said Jim, not understanding this at all.
âWell, I was right. Youâre back safely and now youâre here, Iâm afraid youâre going to stay here. If you go off Base from now on, itâll be with a couple of Secret Service types riding shotgun on you.â
Jim stared.
âCan I ask the general why?â
âI told you. Politics. It just happened that the Chasse Gallerie came home through the North American Sector of the Frontier. That makes Raoul Penard and all the potentially valuable scientific possibilities of his existence in the metal of his ship a piece of property belonging to this continent. It also makes him, it, Mary Gallegherâand youâitems of considerable potential value to our partners who guard the other Sections of the Frontier. That is, if they know about him yetâbut the general feeling is that if any of them donât by now, they will shortly. Also, the general feeling among those few who know about this is that thereâs too much at stake to take any chances at all.