Free Nature's Shift by Brian Stableford

shoulder to shoulder. We don’t have to be members of a Hive to pull together, to help one another out. If you need to be here, then of course you must come, but….”
    I knew there’d be a but . I waited for him to spell it out. When he saw that I wasn’t going to prompt him, he did—after a fashion.
    â€œLook, Peter,” he said, “I’m involved in some very difficult and delicate work here. I’d always intended to show it to you and explain it to you, when it had reached an appropriate stage of maturity. I’d always intended to invite you here, eventually, because I knew that you were the one person in the world guaranteed to understand it—but it hasn’t reached that stage yet. On the other hand….”
    He paused again. I wasn’t sure why, this time. Something about his voice made me stare harder at the image on the screen, looking for signs of electronic enhancement. I was no longer sure that I was looking through the kind of camera that isn’t supposed to lie.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” he asked. My image was being transmitted directly. He had seen my expression change and my attention become more focused.
    â€œAre you ill, Rowland?”
    Enhanced or not, the image took on an expression that seemed slightly guilty. “No,” he said, unconvincingly. “I’m perfectly okay, health-wise. I have been working very hard, though. I get a little tired, sometimes.”
    â€œHave you had a check-up recently?” I persisted. “I know that you’re hundreds of miles from the nearest doctor, but you must have monitors and scanners there that can feed information to any med center in the world.”
    â€œI have all the equipment I could possibly need,” he assured me. “The only reason I haven’t had a check-up is that I don’t need one. Did Rosalind tell you to ask these questions?”
    â€œNo,” I replied. “She is worried about you, though. Maybe she can’t believe that you wouldn’t come to the funeral unless you were too ill to travel. You didn’t even tell her that you weren’t coming, did you?—let alone why.”
    â€œI’m busy,” he repeated. “I’m not doing the kind of experiments that are over in a matter of hours or days. There are processes in hand, which set their own timetable. As I said, I always intended to let you in on it when it’s ready, but it’s not there yet…and it won’t be finished in a matter of months, or even years. If you come here now, I’ll help you fit out your own facilities to the best of my ability…but you might have to be patient with regard to an explanation of my work.”
    â€œThat’s not an issue,” I assured him. “I do need reassurance that you’re okay, though. I’ll have work of my own to do, and you can take all the time you like explaining what you’ve been doing these last ten years, and why you haven’t published anything.”
    â€œIt’s not finished,” he repeated. “Not even the first phase.”
    â€œYou haven’t reached the end of the beginning,” I said, trying to lighten the mood a little, “let alone the beginning of the end.”
    He smiled wryly. “I’d almost forgotten how glib you can be,” he said. “Maybe I do need a little of that, as well as some meaty discussion. We used to have a good time, once, playing with words and ideas. I should have kept in touch…but it’s never quite the same over the phone is it?”
    â€œThat’s why we need to get together,” I said. “Am I invited, then?”
    â€œOf course,” he said. “I’m just trying to warn you…But I suppose I do have facilities adequate for collecting and cataloguing the local algae. I have three boats, and if they don’t suit your requirements, I can get one that is. I can make lab room for you