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hatch hissed open.  “I won’t say a word.”

Chapter Three
     
    “Welcome back, Your Excellency,” Doctor Katy Murray said.  “It’s been too long since we were last blessed with your presence.”
     
    Henry sighed, inwardly, as Doctor Murray turned to lead him through the network of secure airlocks that led into the asteroid facility.  She was middle-aged and strikingly pretty, with red hair tied up in a neat little bun, but she was no research scientist.  Her file had made it clear that she was a political operator first and foremost, struggling desperately to secure as much funding and backing for the Wells Research Facility as possible.  Henry would have thought that funding wasn't in question - it wasn't as if their work wasn't important - but he did have to admit that the government sometimes had odd ideas about the correct way to allocate funds.  Doctor Murray might just have a point, even if she was a crawling sycophant.
     
    And at least her heart’s in the right place , he thought.  There wasn't even a single hint that Doctor Murray was doing anything, but supporting her subordinates.  She isn’t prostituting herself for anything personal .
     
    He pushed the thought aside as he followed her into her office, which was strikingly bare.  A large hologram floated in one corner, projecting an image from the oceans of Tadpole Prime, but the walls were bare, save for a single diploma in xenological research.  He wasn't surprised, really, that she hadn't chosen to practice afterwards, not when there were only a handful of genuine research slots to fill.  Instead, she’d moved into data analysis and then into management.
     
    “I can get you tea or coffee, Your Excellency,” Doctor Murray said.  “Or would you rather something stronger?”
     
    “Tea would be quite suitable,” Henry said.  He’d been forced to pose as a trencherman during innumerable ambassadorial dinners - he had a sneaking suspicion that several countries deliberately served the vilest food they could and claimed it was a local delicacy - but it wasn't something he cared for.  Alcohol led to bad decision making, a lesson he’d learned the hard way.  “And I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”
     
    Doctor Murray looked disappointed.  It was genuine, as far as he could tell.
     
    “We don’t see many visitors out here,” she said, as she called her aide and ordered tea.  “My staff would be delighted to know they haven’t been forgotten.”
     
    “I would be surprised if anyone has forgotten about this place,” Henry said.  “Even before the recent engagement at UXS-469, this facility was hardly unimportant .”
     
    “We’re orbiting on the far side of the sun,” Doctor Murray pointed out.  “Well out of sight and probably quite out of mind.”
     
    Henry shrugged.  So far, humanity hadn't found any alien bacteria that could infect human beings - or vice versa - but no one was inclined to take chances.  Doctor Murray and her team knew, all too well, that there was a slight chance that something would mutate and pose a threat to human life - and, if it did, that the thermonuclear warhead buried at the centre of the facility would blow it into dust if medical science couldn't stop the outbreak in its tracks.  Just getting to the base required an intensive medical screening ...
     
    ... And, when he left, Henry knew he’d have to go through the whole unpleasant procedure again.
     
    “There are strong reasons for your isolation,” he said, as the aide returned with a tray of tea and biscuits.  “And you’re not the only ones carrying out such research.”
     
    “No,” Doctor Murray agreed.  She scowled.  “I understand the political realities, Your Excellency, but they are quite annoying at times.”
     
    Henry nodded, shortly.  He’d hoped, after First Contact, that human research into alien biology could be consolidated, but none of the human powers had been particularly enthusiastic about