BooksBarbecue
Back The Long Sunset
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Prologue
  5. 1.
  6. 2.
  7. 3.
  8. 4.
  9. 5.
  10. 6.
  11. 7.
  12. 8.
  13. 9.
  14. 10.
  15. 11.
  16. 12.
  17. 13.
  18. 14.
  19. 15.
  20. 16.
  21. 17.
  22. 18.
  23. 19.
  24. 20.
  25. 21.
  26. 22.
  27. 23.
  28. 24.
  29. 25.
  30. 26.
  31. 27.
  32. 28.
  33. 29.
  34. 30.
  35. 31.
  36. 32.
  37. 33.
  38. 34.
  39. 35.
  40. 36.
  41. 37.
  42. 38.
  43. 39.
  44. 40.
  45. 41.
  46. 42.
  47. 43.
  48. 44.
  49. Epilogue
  50. About the Author
  51. Copyright

“You might want to cut them some slack. They were trying to put a country together.”

They talked for a couple of minutes before she saw an incoming call from Derek Blanchard. The guy who was connected with the Calliope sighting. Holy cats. She could only think of one reason he’d be calling. “Gotta go, Maureen,” she said. “I’ll get back to you.” She switched over. “Hello, Professor Blanchard. What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Ms. Hutchins. I’ve wanted for a long time to find an excuse to meet you. You’ve been a singular asset for the WSA. I assume you’re aware of what’s been happening? The waterfall?”

“Sure. You have any information that hasn’t been released?”

“No, we’ve put it all out there. But I’d like very much to talk with you. If you’re free this evening, I wonder if I could stop by and say hello.”

“Sure. What time’s good?”

“How about eight o’clock?”

“I’ll be here.”

Blanchard was a major figure, an astrophysicist who’d been near the forefront of half a dozen breakthrough discoveries. He’d written thirteen books on various aspects of cosmology and astrophysics, had been science advisor to President Crandall, and was a consultant for the World Space Authority.

She looked up at the framed photo of the Iapetus angel that dominated the wall over her printer. “Here we go, kid.”

•  •  •

Blanchard arrived precisely on time, with a smile and a bottle of champagne. She’d seen him once before, at an Academy conference. He’d been one of the people who had tried to salvage the Academy when it was going under. But the political forces were too strong.

“Hello, Priscilla. I doubt if you remember me, but we met a few years ago.”

“I remember, Professor Blanchard. Please come in.” He gave her the champagne. She led him to an armchair and sat down on the sofa. “It’s good to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“Priscilla, please call me Derek. We need your help.”

“The WSA?”

“Of course.” If there’d been any doubt about the purpose for Derek’s visit, it went away. He looked down at the champagne. “Look, before we get into this, how about a drink?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”