Machiavellian Prologue
Harry had tried writing some of the next story while on the way to the science station, but his efforts were half-hearted, and thus the results were small and poor. He finally decided to give himself a break. After all, he’d already written two book drafts in a single month, he could let a few days go by before beginning the third.
He’d always been an environmental writer. Find the right environment for a story, and he could write nonstop until he reached the end.
And he had a feeling that the Galileo would provide the right environment.
As he repacked his baggage, he remembered the call he’d made to his interviewee months before. The man hadn’t recognized his name, and with very good reason.
“No, we’ve never met. But I’m writing a series of memoirs about Andi Lloyd.”
The man on the other end of the comlink had breathed deeply at the name. “Oh yes. Now that name, I do know.”
“I’m going to be traveling near the Galileo in a few months, and I’d like to visit and ask you a few questions.”
The man had agreed. He’d been Harry’s fourth choice of someone to speak with, and the only one available. The first choice, it turned out when contacted, really had no information that Harry didn’t already know. The other two wanted nothing to do with him or his stories.
This man, on the other hand, though he remembered the incident well, had no emotional investment in it.
The transport only docked at the station for fifteen minutes, so he had to rush to unload his baggage, sign off, and disembark. He signed into the station, then asked, “Where can I find Gene Dubois?”
The attendant pointed down a shining hall. “He’s in biochemistry, down that hall on the right.”
Harry thanked her and started down the hall, recorder in hand.
When he found the biochemistry lab and peeked in, he saw only one person, a short, balding man peering through an electron microscope.
“Excuse me?”
He jerked his head up.
“Are you Mr. Dubois?”
He nodded.
“Harrison Wallace, I contacted you about an interview?”
“Oh, of course!” he stood up and started fumbling for his glasses. Harry approached quickly and picked them up off the table and handed them to him.
“Thank you.” He put them on and then shook Harry’s hand with a smile. “You’re writing something about Andi Lloyd, I think you said?”
“Yes sir. Is there somewhere we can sit down?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind hard chairs we can sit right here,” he offered, gesturing to the chairs that were pushed up to the table where he’d been working.
“Fine with me.”
They sat down and Dubois leaned his arms on the table and then looked at Harry expectantly. Harry turned on the recorder.
“You were a part of the Copernicus personnel, correct?”
The scientist nodded. “Yes, when Captain Holloway was in command.”
“Right. Can you tell me more about what happened to the station?”
“Sure.” Adjusting his glasses, he began to explain the incident.