Refiner's Pyre

Gil had tried to keep a low profile for the next few days. Trask seemed quite confident in his obscurity. Surely he knew the importance of remaining hidden. If he was aware of Buck, he wasn’t showing it.

  Gil had not seen Buck since London. He should have shown by now. Maybe he was off on a wild goose chase.

  The Astro-Forum wasn’t Gil’s idea of a fun time, but it was a pretty easy way of keeping track of Trask. The hardest part was looking interested and dodging any questions during the luncheons. It seemed that the thirty or so that were in attendance were self-indulged enough to ignore Gil, and on top of that, it seemed that the sessions were attended by different people each time. Though there were always a few introductions, most of the attendees remained unnamed.

  On the second day of Gil’s surveillance, Buck made his entrance. He wasn’t looking good. He looked gray and in pain. Buck had downed half dozen pills, before the morning session was over. Though the room was on the cool side, Buck’s hair, what little there was of it, stuck, sweat-drenched to his temples.

  Trask had not made a showing yet but Gil saw his name on the afternoon speakers roster.

  When the morning session broke for lunch Gil decided he would be better served to keep tabs on Buck.

  Buck made his way to the lobby and sat by the courtesy phone. He shook his head as if to attempt to clear it; just as he had done by the Viro-Scan. After some more pills and a few deep breaths he picked up the phone and placed his call.

  Gil had positioned himself a couple seats away and covered the ploy with a feigned interest in a magazine from the coffee table.

  Buck’s conversation was badly truncated and hard to follow. “Yes, I will be sitting in the same place” a pause and then “North 12 and west 3 and half, plus or minus about 4 inches. Yes, I’m sure. Yeah . . . a half hour; right about 3:30, my time. What do you mean; you’re the ones that can screw up. It’s my ass that . . .” He hung up and dropped back in his seat.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 20 – Astro-Forum Session Five

  When I examine myself and my methods of thought, I come to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than any talent for abstract, positive thinking.

  Albert Einstein