“Holy shit,” Keith breathed, eyes riveted on Rayna’s computer terminal display. “I see what you mean. I never noticed the pattern.”
“I didn’t, either. Not until I ran this trend-analysis program. I’ve been having some problems getting through to my students lately. I thought maybe if I could tie the lessons into the latest social and political trends—things that mean something to the kids—it might help. Having 24-hour world-watch service makes it pretty simple to use the program. News events automatically plug right in. But I never expected to find anything like this.”
They gazed silently at the screen as the display scrolled to a new set of graphs.
“They all say basically the same thing,” Keith said, more to himself than to Rayna. “All those things that have been happening. New problems in the Middle East. The rumblings of war in Africa. The rumors of revolution in South America. Even the increasing crime rate right here in Los Angeles. The world’s going straight to hell!”
Rayna nodded uncomfortably. “Yes.”
“And the trend line leads back to mid-April? Just about the time Al Frederick died?”
Another nod.
“But what makes you think there’s a connection?”
Without saying a word, Rayna tapped the appropriate instructions into the terminal’s keyboard, and a new chart appeared on the screen.
“This trend line’s based on a composite index using the same kind of statistics that the other graphs used. Only this one gives an overall picture of what’s been going on for the last hundred years. The solid parts of the line cover the periods before 1971 and after Al’s death. The broken line here covers the period in between. Notice anything peculiar?”
Keith studied the screen carefully before speaking. “It almost looks as if... as if....”
“As if there’s a discontinuity,” Rayna interrupted. “As if something—or someone—skewed the curve and made it veer off its natural course!”
“And you think that something might be related to Al Frederick’s death?”
Rayna tilted her chin upward and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Keith could almost feel her body shaking. Finally, she released her breath in a heavy sigh.
“I’m not really sure, Keith. You still don’t know the whole story. Al was.... I don’t know. Maybe Al was crazy. Maybe I’m crazy even to consider the possibility. But it certainly would explain what’s been happening lately.”
“Go on,” said Keith, “I’m listening.”
Rayna frowned thoughtfully. “No,” she said slowly, “I don’t want you to listen to me. I want you to listen to Al.”
Keith’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Rayna reached beneath the computer table and slid out the permastore box that Al Frederick had left her. “Here,” she said as tonelessly as she could manage. “Take these in the other room. Listen to the first two or three tapes.”
“Look, why don’t you just give me a summary.”
Rayna swallowed, pressed her lips together firmly and repeated simply, “Listen to the first two or three tapes.”
“Honey, I really think—”
Keith’s protest was cut short by the electronic tone that signaled an incoming call. Rayna pressed the “accept” key on her comm terminal, and a vaguely familiar face took shape on the screen.
“Aurora?” Rayna said with surprise. “This is certainly unexpected! I don’t think I’ve seen you since we went to that concert of colonial music six months ago!”
That’s right, Keith recalled as he examined the angular face on the screen. Her name’s Aurora—Aurora...something. Oh, yes. Sanger. Aurora Sanger. Tall, attractive woman in her mid-twenties. Her boyfriend Rafe’s some kind of artist—the guy who made that holopainting for Rayna. The four of us went to dinner and then a performance of some way-out electronic music from the Asteroid Belt that Aurora got to like a couple of years ago when she was in the Merchant Fleet.
“...and now I really don’t know what to do,” Aurora was saying. “Vince has changed. He was never terribly bright or sensitive, but he used to be kind of sweet in his own special way. Last night, though, he was almost raving. I think he would have killed Rafe—maybe me, too—if I didn’t agree to have dinner with him tomorrow night. Listen, Rayna, you know me; I’m no coward, but I really don’t want to be alone with him. I know it’s asking an awful lot, but I thought maybe if you and Keith could join us, it might help keep Vince in line.”
“Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?” Rayna began. “Maybe Vince was overbearing and impolite, but after all, this isn’t the mid-Twentieth Century. People have been pretty civilized for the last 50 years, and....”
A printout from Rayna’s trend-analysis program caught the corner of her eye. No, it wasn’t the mid-Twentieth Century, she thought, but things were no longer what she used to consider “normal,” either. She shot an inquiring glance at Keith, who responded with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders.
“Well, I don’t know if it’ll do any good,” she told Aurora, “but we’ll try to help you out. When does Vince go back out to the colonies?”
“I’m not sure. He was pretty vague about what he’s been doing lately. I couldn’t tell whether he was being secretive or whether he realized that I really wasn’t very interested in anything he had to say.” She shook her head uncertainly. “Anyway, I really appreciate your coming along. See you at Eduardo’s at 1930 tomorrow.”
Rayna nodded and broke the connection.
“Looks like we’re in for a pretty sticky evening,” said Keith.
She nodded again. “Sure does. But we’ll deal with that tomorrow.”
Rayna closed her eyes, inhaled deeply through her nose and then blew the air slowly out of her mouth. Keith recognized the relaxation technique, but it didn’t appear to be working very well. Despite a comfortable room temperature, she seemed to shake with a cold that was more than physical.
“I still want you to hear these tapes, Keith. It’s important. We need to talk more about this, and I think it’s best if you get Al’s story the same way I got it. You’ll understand once you hear the tapes. Please—just take the box with you. Listen to them tonight, but try not to jump to any conclusions. Can you spare me a few hours tomorrow afternoon?”
Keith glanced at the box of tapes.
“I’m not sure I’ll have the chance to listen to them all by then, Ray.”
Rayna rubbed her chin nervously.
“Of course, you’re right,” she sighed. “I’ve been listening to these things at my leisure over the past couple of months, and here I am trying to rush you into a marathon session. But Keith, this is…. The implications of the trend analysis…. Well, let’s put it this way: If I’m right, what’s in these tapes is a lot more important than we thought.”