Read Online J.M. Dillard - War of Worlds: The Resurrection by J. M. Dillard - Free Book Online
Authors: J. M. Dillard
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a brow. "I believe I can work with this woman, Harrison." Then, in a different tone: "Gertrude—back three, right forty-five, forward ten." The wheelchair whined mechanically and started backing away from the monitor.
"Please don't bother," Suzanne began, "I can get it m—"
Norton shot her such a threatening glance that she broke off, ashamed of her patronizing attitude. "And miss the chance to show off?" he asked lightly.
Harrison was smiling, relaxed; apparently he knew Norton well enough to be completely unaffected by Suzanne's discomfort over his handicap. "Don't worry. Norton lives to show off his voice-activated dragster."
"Old news, Harrison," Norton said on his way to the drip coffeemaker on the low counter. "Got something better. Been working on the blend for months." The wheelchair rolled to a stop at the counter. Norton picked up a cup and poured steaming coffee into it.
He glanced over at Suzanne. "You like it black, I hope."
"I like it black," she answered quickly. At this point she was willing to drink it cold through a straw . . . and it did smell heavenly.
"Good. I'm afraid I don't stock the accoutrements. Gertrude—back three, forward ten." The chair began moving again. "None of these healthy California la-la types here touch the demon caffeine. They'd rather drink herbal teas with cutesy little names like Granny's Tummy Comfort or Sassafras Sunset. And this is a scientific institute. Shocking, isn't it? And here it is a well-known fact that caffeine improves brain function."
Harrison snickered. "Only up to a certain point, which you've definitely gone past. After that it's all downhill."
Norton sniffed at that. Suzanne forced herself to stand still and wait for him to return and hand her the cup. "What exactly do you do here, Norton?"
"You mean besides play computer golf?" Harrison quipped.
"Shut up, Blackwood. Dr. McCullough is asking a question." Norton cleared his throat and said with practiced glibness, "I collect and analyze radio transmissions from deep space, trying to separate natural phenomena from that which could be made by intelligent life."
She sipped the coffee—which tasted every bit as good as it smelled—as she listened. So ... an extraterrestrial project. She'd been right to assume she'd been hired on the basis of her NASA project experi-
The Resurrection once. "Sounds like interesting work. And this coffee is
heaven."
"Thank you."
She turned to Harrison. "Now, how do I fit in?"
But he was looking down at his watch. "Gee— where's the time gone? I 'm sorry, but I have a meeting with Shulman in five minutes. Should last till lunch." He glanced apologetically at Norton. "Norton old buddy, could you help me out and show Suzanne to her new office?"
"Sure. Except I don't know where it is."
"You know the one. Clayton's old office." Harrison gave Norton a brisk pat on the shoulder, then turned to Suzanne. "I really wanted to take you to lunch today to discuss the project, but I'm afraid my fiancee has other plans for me today. Maybe we can get together for a talk after lunch."
"If it's not too much trouble," she said in very clipped tones. She was furious at him for ignoring her questions as if she didn't matter, and furious at herself for actually feeling a twinge when he mentioned his fiancee.
As usual, he ignored her frosty stare on the way out. "No trouble," he said pleasantly. "No trouble at all." He left, closing the door behind him.
Norton was shaking his head and grinning. "He's not singling you out, Suzanne. He drives us all crazy."
She gave Harrison until two o'clock—she doubted he'd be the type to arrive back from lunch any earlier—before she wandered down the hallway and knocked on his closed door.
No answer. How on earth did the man manage to procure such a prestigious job, taking two-hour lunches and playing practical jokes on his colleagues? Working with him was not going to be pleasant.
Suzanne was turning to go when she saw the light under the
"Please don't bother," Suzanne began, "I can get it m—"
Norton shot her such a threatening glance that she broke off, ashamed of her patronizing attitude. "And miss the chance to show off?" he asked lightly.
Harrison was smiling, relaxed; apparently he knew Norton well enough to be completely unaffected by Suzanne's discomfort over his handicap. "Don't worry. Norton lives to show off his voice-activated dragster."
"Old news, Harrison," Norton said on his way to the drip coffeemaker on the low counter. "Got something better. Been working on the blend for months." The wheelchair rolled to a stop at the counter. Norton picked up a cup and poured steaming coffee into it.
He glanced over at Suzanne. "You like it black, I hope."
"I like it black," she answered quickly. At this point she was willing to drink it cold through a straw . . . and it did smell heavenly.
"Good. I'm afraid I don't stock the accoutrements. Gertrude—back three, forward ten." The chair began moving again. "None of these healthy California la-la types here touch the demon caffeine. They'd rather drink herbal teas with cutesy little names like Granny's Tummy Comfort or Sassafras Sunset. And this is a scientific institute. Shocking, isn't it? And here it is a well-known fact that caffeine improves brain function."
Harrison snickered. "Only up to a certain point, which you've definitely gone past. After that it's all downhill."
Norton sniffed at that. Suzanne forced herself to stand still and wait for him to return and hand her the cup. "What exactly do you do here, Norton?"
"You mean besides play computer golf?" Harrison quipped.
"Shut up, Blackwood. Dr. McCullough is asking a question." Norton cleared his throat and said with practiced glibness, "I collect and analyze radio transmissions from deep space, trying to separate natural phenomena from that which could be made by intelligent life."
She sipped the coffee—which tasted every bit as good as it smelled—as she listened. So ... an extraterrestrial project. She'd been right to assume she'd been hired on the basis of her NASA project experi-
The Resurrection once. "Sounds like interesting work. And this coffee is
heaven."
"Thank you."
She turned to Harrison. "Now, how do I fit in?"
But he was looking down at his watch. "Gee— where's the time gone? I 'm sorry, but I have a meeting with Shulman in five minutes. Should last till lunch." He glanced apologetically at Norton. "Norton old buddy, could you help me out and show Suzanne to her new office?"
"Sure. Except I don't know where it is."
"You know the one. Clayton's old office." Harrison gave Norton a brisk pat on the shoulder, then turned to Suzanne. "I really wanted to take you to lunch today to discuss the project, but I'm afraid my fiancee has other plans for me today. Maybe we can get together for a talk after lunch."
"If it's not too much trouble," she said in very clipped tones. She was furious at him for ignoring her questions as if she didn't matter, and furious at herself for actually feeling a twinge when he mentioned his fiancee.
As usual, he ignored her frosty stare on the way out. "No trouble," he said pleasantly. "No trouble at all." He left, closing the door behind him.
Norton was shaking his head and grinning. "He's not singling you out, Suzanne. He drives us all crazy."
She gave Harrison until two o'clock—she doubted he'd be the type to arrive back from lunch any earlier—before she wandered down the hallway and knocked on his closed door.
No answer. How on earth did the man manage to procure such a prestigious job, taking two-hour lunches and playing practical jokes on his colleagues? Working with him was not going to be pleasant.
Suzanne was turning to go when she saw the light under the
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