Prologue

Hakley


"You checking out my boobs, or trying to read, kid?"

"Uh, both, really. Could you hold your t-shirt out, please?"

"Oh. I like that." He'd read: There are 111 types of people: One who understands binary; two who don't understand binary, but think it's some weird kind of math system; and four who think anything beginning with "bi" indicates an alternative lifestyle.

"Isn't he a little young for your type of missions, Tomster?"

Marabelle, this is Hakely. He's a candidate for the Rama ((Indian mathematician)) Hall. Hakely, Marabelle is one of our programmers, who might get to join us. We're picking up another candidate out there, by the way."

"Might? I'm already packed. 'Bye."

Was there a mischieveous look to her eyes as she turned around? Tomster thought "yes".

Hakely looked questioningly at Tomster.

"Her assistant department head bumped her. She's more competent, but, you know, politics. He'll be capable of running the calibration, but that's really all he'll be good for. Marabelle not only understands the calibration system, most of which is her design, but she has a feel for the field environment. I'm sure she'll be coming with us."

"But if it's a political . . ."

Tomster waved his hand.

"Marabelle's boyfriend, new boyfriend, that is, has a permanent billet on our team. He'll make sure she's part of the crew."

"How?"

"He's our toxicologist."

"Toxi-? Oh."
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