Lola to stand up. "I told you, I don't know. That's one of the scary parts. It seems like somewhere absolutely real and familiar, but wherever it is, I know I've never been there."
"Have you ever been to Earth? Or Mars?"
"Never." He released her hands. "You may not believe this, but I feel better now. You actually felt it, didn't you, even though you say you can't read minds? You know what it's like."
"I know what it's like." Lola struggled for control and managed a thin smile. "I'm not going to thank you for that."
"There are other places, too. Not as bad as that. Some of them I kind of like, the ones where I'm the boss and doing something clever. Out in the Belt, some of them. We hit the worst one first. Want to see the others?"
"I will, in due course." Lola sat down again. "But not today. We're done. I'm done."
"What's next?"
"I review your data, see if I missed anything. Then we have another session. Can you come back in three days? Midday, local time."
"Sure." Bryce Sonnenberg moved toward the door of the office. At the threshold he paused. "I know it's too early to ask, but do you really think you'll be able to help me?"
He was right—in principle, it was too early to say. But Lola was getting the clearest images she had ever seen. Bizarre information was difficult to interpret, but it was a lot better than no information at all.
"I'm sure I can help. Just don't expect instant miracles. It's a slow process." She waved good-bye, but she took little notice of his departure because she suddenly had been struck by two oddities at once.
First, he had said that some of his false memories were "out in the Belt." How could he know what the Belt was like, if he had left it for Callisto at the age of three?
Second—and more directly disturbing to Lola—she had been all set to transfer Sonnenberg's records to her general case files when she noticed the access record. It indicated that an access had been made on the previous day, when she had certainly not been using the system. The implication was as clear as if it had been written as a message on the screen: Someone else had been snooping around in her haldane file of stored experiences.
Someone. Lola swore to herself. She didn't have to go far to know who that someone was, someone who seemed unable to stay out of anything, even Lola's private case records.
When she got her hands on Spook she was going to wring his scrawny neck.
7
"Look after Spook. Don't let him get into trouble."
Lola had never forgotten her mother's plea. She had done her best to honor it, to look after him, to make sure he was well cared for. And she had done well.
In fact, in the eyes of at least one person she had done far too well.
Spook was fifteen years old, certainly not a kid any more. Surely he was entitled to a bit of breathing space. On the other hand . . .
He looked at Lola, standing at the entrance to his private domain, and knew he was in deep trouble. She wouldn't normally charge into his den without giving at least a few minutes' warning.
"All right." Lola ignored the new setting, Spook's careful reconstruction of the sky as seen by a high-gee probe in one of the local comet clusters of the Kuiper Belt. "You've really done it this time. Those are absolutely private files you've dabbled in. Haldane files. Patient files. Do you realize what would happen if a patient learned that someone who wasn't a haldane had been poking around in them?"
"I've not been poking around." There was a time to tell the truth, but this wasn't it. "I just copied one small file."
"Copying one is as bad as if you copied all of them. Unless a patient gives permission, nobody except a haldane is supposed to see anything."
"Suppose it wasn't a patient's file?"
That stopped her, as it was designed to do. She glared at him. "The only things in that directory—"
"Not true. I didn't touch a patient's file. And I wasn't trying to peek, not really. I summoned your directory by accident—I'm a Belman,
"Have you ever been to Earth? Or Mars?"
"Never." He released her hands. "You may not believe this, but I feel better now. You actually felt it, didn't you, even though you say you can't read minds? You know what it's like."
"I know what it's like." Lola struggled for control and managed a thin smile. "I'm not going to thank you for that."
"There are other places, too. Not as bad as that. Some of them I kind of like, the ones where I'm the boss and doing something clever. Out in the Belt, some of them. We hit the worst one first. Want to see the others?"
"I will, in due course." Lola sat down again. "But not today. We're done. I'm done."
"What's next?"
"I review your data, see if I missed anything. Then we have another session. Can you come back in three days? Midday, local time."
"Sure." Bryce Sonnenberg moved toward the door of the office. At the threshold he paused. "I know it's too early to ask, but do you really think you'll be able to help me?"
He was right—in principle, it was too early to say. But Lola was getting the clearest images she had ever seen. Bizarre information was difficult to interpret, but it was a lot better than no information at all.
"I'm sure I can help. Just don't expect instant miracles. It's a slow process." She waved good-bye, but she took little notice of his departure because she suddenly had been struck by two oddities at once.
First, he had said that some of his false memories were "out in the Belt." How could he know what the Belt was like, if he had left it for Callisto at the age of three?
Second—and more directly disturbing to Lola—she had been all set to transfer Sonnenberg's records to her general case files when she noticed the access record. It indicated that an access had been made on the previous day, when she had certainly not been using the system. The implication was as clear as if it had been written as a message on the screen: Someone else had been snooping around in her haldane file of stored experiences.
Someone. Lola swore to herself. She didn't have to go far to know who that someone was, someone who seemed unable to stay out of anything, even Lola's private case records.
When she got her hands on Spook she was going to wring his scrawny neck.
7
"Look after Spook. Don't let him get into trouble."
Lola had never forgotten her mother's plea. She had done her best to honor it, to look after him, to make sure he was well cared for. And she had done well.
In fact, in the eyes of at least one person she had done far too well.
Spook was fifteen years old, certainly not a kid any more. Surely he was entitled to a bit of breathing space. On the other hand . . .
He looked at Lola, standing at the entrance to his private domain, and knew he was in deep trouble. She wouldn't normally charge into his den without giving at least a few minutes' warning.
"All right." Lola ignored the new setting, Spook's careful reconstruction of the sky as seen by a high-gee probe in one of the local comet clusters of the Kuiper Belt. "You've really done it this time. Those are absolutely private files you've dabbled in. Haldane files. Patient files. Do you realize what would happen if a patient learned that someone who wasn't a haldane had been poking around in them?"
"I've not been poking around." There was a time to tell the truth, but this wasn't it. "I just copied one small file."
"Copying one is as bad as if you copied all of them. Unless a patient gives permission, nobody except a haldane is supposed to see anything."
"Suppose it wasn't a patient's file?"
That stopped her, as it was designed to do. She glared at him. "The only things in that directory—"
"Not true. I didn't touch a patient's file. And I wasn't trying to peek, not really. I summoned your directory by accident—I'm a Belman,
Similar Books
