Free James P. Hogan by Migration Page A

from his previous work, and even though that had been long ago, he knew there were still people looking for him who wouldn’t give up. The thug that his department had picked up in Sofi, who had tracked a runaway mathematician all the way from Tranth and just been deported back there again, showed how close they could get. And the people that Lubanov had to worry about were a lot more efficient at what they did than anything that would come out of Tranth.
    He had lived long enough with such fellow travelers as fear, mistrust, deception, and treachery. Yes, the sun was warm and the scenery of Earth stirring. But the beckoning stars offered tranquility and inner peace. Having reaffirmed his decision to himself, Lubanov turned and walked away from the shoreline at a quicker pace to take care of the final matters outstanding.
    He returned to the Internal Security section of the military administration center on the south side of the city, and went through his normal routine of checking for messages and updating himself on the day’s more crucial activities. An adjutant reminded him of several appointments for tomorrow. Lubanov told him to cancel them, saying he would be away for the next day and maybe more on something urgent that had just come up. Then he went to his office and spent some time going through his files to remove anything suspicious that might trigger an alert in the next forty-eight hours. After that it wouldn’t matter. Finally, he used the monitor on his desk to call Chel. She was the kind of person who loved hikes through the forests and swimming off beaches, the bustle of the town, and the solitude of the desert. Also, she was a dedicated Progressive. She would never have gone with the Aurora .
    Her face appeared on the screen moments later, pointy and angular, black hair sweeping down one side of her face, almost over her eye. Surprise flickered for an instant – Lubanov didn’t usually call when she was working. “Hey. What’s happening?” she greeted.
    Lubanov had to bite his lip before replying. He had been rehearsing the words to himself. “Look, something’s come up. I have to leave for somewhere down south in a hurry. It might be a day or two.”
    “Oh. You won’t be back tonight?”
    He shook his head. “As I said, it just came up. I should know more tomorrow.”
    “Want to tell me what it’s about?”
    “Uh-uh. You know how it is.”
    She made a visible effort not to look too disappointed. “Well… I hope it doesn’t involve some kind of trouble, anyway – you know, with nasty people. Maybe it’ll make me start some of the things I’ve been meaning to do. Call me when you’re coming back?”
    Something seemed to swell in Lubanov’s throat. He nodded mechanically but couldn’t voice the promise. He detested moments like this, detested himself – feeling that he should say more, but at the same time just wanting to get it wrapped up. This was the last time he would say anything to her. She noticed the ambivalence on his face and narrowed her eyes questioningly. Large, dark eyes, deep and sensitive.
    “Are you sure everything’s all right? You look kind of strange.”
    “Oh, it’s just… I have a lot of things going around in my mind right now.” A stab of resentment at being in this position came out of nowhere, almost causing him to say something sharp, but he suppressed it. “But right now, I have to go.”
    “Oka-ay.” The eyes moved searchingly, still showing doubt. “Be careful, Andri, whatever it is. I’ll see you whenever, then.”
    “Good-bye, Chel.”
    After leaving the building, he walked across the forecourt to the motor pool, booked out a minisize staff car on a three-day requisition, and shortly afterward, drove out through the main gate of the administration center for the last time. His first stop was at a shipping office in the air-travel terminal south of the city, where he had reserved space a week previously to store some bags of personal effects