“Correct. I wrote them.”

“Then what is your authority for the statement? You quote none.”

Darya swore at herself. Even when she had made that addition to the Phage entry, she had known it would cause trouble. It was the old problem: Should she parrot conventional wisdom on the Phages and the Builder artifacts? Or should she tell what she knew to be the truth, even though it could not be supported by anything but her own word and that of a few other people in her party? She had seen Phages, moving far faster than any Phage was supposed to be able to move, dive-bombing the ship she herself rode in. Others had seen those same Phages — supposedly indestructible — smashed into fragments on the surface of a high-field planetoid.

She felt angry with Merada, and knew she had no right to. He was doing exactly what a conscientious and first-rate scientist should do — what Darya herself would have done one year ago: ruling out hearsay and shoddy research, by insisting on complete documentation.

“I will send you a reference, as soon as I have approval to release it.”

“Make it soon, Professor Lang. The official closing date for changes to the catalog is already past. Are you sure that you will be able to obtain approval?”

“I’ll do my best.” Darya nodded to indicate that the conversation was over and moved away from the terminal. Merada assumed that the approval she referred to was no more than the consent of another researcher to make known a preliminary finding, perhaps in advance of official publication. The truth was insanely more complex. Approval for this information would have to come from the whole interclade Council.

She had moved no more than half-a-dozen steps when the communications terminal issued another soft whistle. Darya sighed and turned back. Persistence was a prime virtue in any research worker; but sometimes Merada took it to extremes.