Calculating God Read Online Free PDF

people.” He paused. “There is a protocol for this sort of thing, although it took a few minutes to find it. The prime minister is already on his way to the airport in Ottawa, and we’re about to notify the U.S. president.”
    “No, I am sorry,” said Hollus. His eyestalks swiveled around, looking at the octagonal lobby and all the people in it before settling back on the federal agents. “I came here to do paleontological research. I am glad to say hello to your prime minister, of course, if he wants to drop by, but the only reason I revealed my presence was so that I could talk to Dr. Jericho here.” He indicated me with one of his arms, and the videographer swung to shoot me. I must say, I felt rather pumped.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” said the French-Canadian CSIS man. “But we really have to do it this way.”
    “You are not listening,” said Hollus. “I refuse to go. I am here to do important work, and I wish to continue it.”
    The two CSIS agents looked at each other. Finally, the black man spoke; he had a slight Jamaican accent. “Look, you’re supposed to say, ‘Take me to your leader.’ You’re supposed to want to meet with the authorities.”
    “Why?” asked Hollus.
    The agents looked at each other again. “Why?” repeated the white one. “Because that’s the way it’s done.”
    Hollus’s two eyes converged on the man. “I rather suspect I have more experience at this than you do,” he said softly.
    The white federal agent pulled out a small handgun. “I really do have to insist,” he said.
    The cops now moved forward. “We’ll have to see some identification,” said the burlier of the two policemen.
    The black CSIS agent obliged; I had no idea what a CSIS ID was supposed to look like, but the police officers seemed satisfied and backed off.
    “Now,” said the black man. “Please do come with us.”
    “I am quite sure you will not use that weapon,” said Hollus, “so doubtless I will get my way.”
    “We have orders,” said the white agent.
    “No doubt you do. And no doubt your superiors will understand that you were unable to fulfill them.” Hollus indicated the videographer, who was madly scrambling to change tapes. “The record will show that you insisted, I declined, and that was the end of the matter.”
    “This is no way to treat a guest,” shouted a woman from the crowd. That seemed to be a popular sentiment: several people voiced their affirmation.
    “We’re trying to protect the alien,” said the white CSIS man.
    “Like hell,” said a male museum patron. “I’ve seen The X-Files. If you walk out of here with him, no regular person will ever see him again.”
    “Leave him alone!” added an elderly man with a European accent.
    The agents looked at the videographer, and the black one pointed out a security camera to the white one. Doubtless they wished none of this was being recorded.
    “Politely,” said Hollus, “you are not going to prevail.”
    “But, well, surely you won’t object to us having an observer present?” said the black agent. “Someone to make sure no harm comes to you?”
    “I have no concerns in that area,” said Hollus.
    Christine stepped forward at this point. “I’m the museum’s president and director,” she said to the two CSIS men. Then she turned to Hollus. “I’m sure you can understand that we’d like to have a record, a chronicle, of your visit here. If you don’t mind, we will at least have a cameraperson accompany you and Dr. Jericho.” The CITY-TV guy surged forward; it was quite clear that he’d be happy to volunteer for the job.
    “But I do mind,” said Hollus. “Dr. Dorati, on my world, only criminals are subject to constant observation; would you consent to someone watching you all day long as you worked?”
    “Well, I—” said Christine.
    “Nor will I,” said Hollus. “I am grateful for your hospitality, but—you, there,” he pointed at the videographer. “You are the representative of a