Warlord of Kor | Page 7

into a fight over if's and maybe's; in the outworlds you learned quickly to confine your clashes to tangibles. "Why did you want to see me?" he said.
"I want your preliminary report completed," Manning said. "I've got to have my complete report collated and transmitted within the week, if it's to have any effect on the Council. Most of the boys have got them in already; Breune and Larsborg have promised theirs within four days. But you're still holding me up."
Rynason took a long swallow of his drink and put it down empty. The noise and smell of the bar seemed to grow around him, washing over him. It might have been the effects of the tarpaq in the drink, but he felt his stomach tighten and turn slightly when he thought of how Earth's culture presented itself, warped itself, here on the frontier Edge. Was this land of mercenary, slipshod rush really what had carried Earthmen to the stars?
"I don't know if I'll have much to report for at least a week," he said shortly.
"Then give me a report on what you've got!" Manning snapped. "If nothing else, turn in your transcripts and I'll do the report myself; I can handle it. What the hell do you mean, you won't have much to report?"
"Larsborg said the same thing," Mara interjected.
"Larsborg said he'd have his report ready in a couple of days anyway!"
"I'll give you what I've got as soon as I can," Rynason said. "But things are just beginning to break for me--did you see my note this afternoon?"
"Yes, of course. The part about this Tedron or whatever his name was?"
"Tebron Marl. He's the link between their barbaric and civilized periods. I've only begun to get into it."
Manning was waving for more drinks; he caught a waiter's eye and then turned back to Rynason. "What's this nonsense about some damned block you ran into? Have you got a crazy horse on your hands?"
"There's something strange there," Rynason said. "He tells me this Tebron was actually supposed to have communicated with their god, or whatever he was. It sounds crazy, all right. But there's more to it than that, I'm sure of it. I wanted time to go into it further before I made my report."
"I think you've got a nut alien there, boy. Don't let him foul you up; you're one of my best men."
Rynason almost sneered, but he managed to bring it out as a grin. The role of protective father did not sit well on Manning's shoulders. "We're dealing here with a remarkably sane race," he pointed out. "The very fact that they have total recall argues against any insanity in them. There've been experiments on the inner worlds for over a century now, trying to bring out total recall in us, and not much luck so far. We're a sick, hung-up race."
Manning slapped his hand down on the table. "What the hell are you trying to do, Lee? Are you trying to measure these aliens by our standards? I thought you had better sense. Total recall doesn't necessarily mean a damn thing in them--but when they start telling you straightforward and cold that they've talked with some god, and then they throw what sounds like an anxiety fit right in front of you.... Well, what does it sound like to you?"
Rynason accepted one of the drinks that the waiter banged down on the table and took a sip. He felt lightheaded. "It would have been an anxiety fit if Horng had been human," he said. "But you're right, I do know better than to judge him by our standards. No, it was something else."
"What, then?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. That's the point--I can't give you a decent report until I find out."
"Then, dammit, give me an indecent report! Fill it out with some very learned speculations, you know the type...." Manning stopped, and grinned. "Speaking of indecent reports, what have we turned up on their sex lives?"
"Marc Stoworth covered that in his report yesterday," Mara said. "They're unisexual, and their sex life is singularly boring, if you'll pardon the expression. At least, Stoworth says so. If it weren't I'm sure he'd tell us all about it."
Manning chuckled. "Yes, I imagine you're right; Marc is a good boy. Well look, Lee, I've told you the position I'm in. Now I'm counting on you to get me out of this spot. I've got to transmit my report to Council within a week. I don't want to pressure you, but you know I'm in a position to do it if I have to. Dammit, give me a report."
"I'll turn something in in a few days," Rynason said vaguely. His brain was definitely fuzzy now from the tarpaq.
Manning stood up. "All right, don't forget it. Trick it out