"He's doing the best he can, like everyone else," Norman said.
She spun. "You know, Norman, sometimes you're too psychological and understanding. The man is an idiot. A complete idiot."
"Let's just find the flight recorder, shall we?" Harry said. "That's the important thing now." Harry was following the umbilicus cable that ran out the back of the mannequin, into the floor. He was lifting up floor panels, tracing the wires aft.
"I'm sorry," Beth said, "but he wouldn't speak like that to a man. Certainly not to Ted. Ted's hogging the whole show, and I don't see why he should be allowed to."
"What does Ted have to do with - " Norman began.
" - The man is a parasite, that's what he is. He takes the ideas of others and promotes them as his own. Even the way he quotes famous sayings - it's outrageous."
"You feel he takes other people's ideas?" Norman said.
"Listen, back on the surface, I mentioned to Ted that we ought to have some words ready when we opened this thing. And the next thing I know, Ted's making up quotes and positioning himself in front of the camera."
"Well ..."
"Well what, Norman? Don't well me, for Christ's sake. It was my idea and he took it without so much as a thank you."
"Did you say anything to him about it?" Norman said.
"No, I did not say anything to him about it. I'm sure he wouldn't remember if I did; he'd go, 'Did you say that, Beth? I suppose you might have mentioned something like that, yes. ...' "
"I still think you should talk to him."
"Norman, you're not listening to me."
"If you talked to him, at least you wouldn't be so angry about it now."
"Shrink talk," she said, shaking her head. "Look, Ted does whatever he wants on this expedition, he makes his stupid speeches, whatever he wants. But I go through the door first and Barnes gives me hell. Why shouldn't I go first? What's wrong with a woman being the first, for once in the history of science?"
"Beth - "
" - And then I had the gall to turn on the lights. You know what Barnes said about that? He said I might have started a short-circuit and put us all in jeopardy. He said I didn't know what I was doing. He said I was impulsive. Jesus. Impulsive. Stone-age military cretin."
"Turn the volume back up," Harry said. "I'd rather hear Ted."
"Come on, guys."
"We're all under a lot of pressure, Beth," Norman said. "It's going to affect everybody in different ways."
She glared at Norman. "You're saying Barnes was right?"
"I'm saying we're all under pressure. Including him. Including you."
"Jesus, you men always stick together. You know why I'm still an assistant professor and not tenured?"
"Your pleasant, easygoing personality?" Harry said.
"I can do without this. I really can."
"Beth," Harry said, "you see the way these cables are going? They're running toward that bulkhead there. See if they go up the wall on the other side of the door."
"You trying to get rid of me?"
"If possible."
She laughed, breaking the tension. "All right, I'll look on the other side of the door."
When she was gone, Harry said, "She's pretty worked up."
Norman said, "You know the Ben Stone story?"
"Which one?"
"Beth did her graduate work in Stone's lab."
"Oh."
Benjamin Stone was a biochemist at BU. A colorful, engaging man, Stone had a reputation as a good researcher who used his graduate students like lab assistants, taking their results as his own. In this exploitation of others' work, Stone was not unique in the academic community, but he proceeded a little more ruthlessly than his colleagues.
"Beth was living with him as well."
"Uh-huh."
"Back in the early seventies. Apparently, she did a series of important experiments on the energetics of ciliary inclusion bodies. They had a big argument, and Stone broke off his relationship with her. She left the lab, and he published five papers - all her work - without her name on them."
"Very nice," Harry said. "So now she lifts weights?"
"Well, she feels mistreated, and I can see her point."
"Yeah," Harry said. "But the thing is, lie down with dogs, get up with fleas, you know what I mean?"
"Jesus," Beth said, returning. "This is like 'The girl who's raped is always asking for it,' is that what you're saying?"
"No," Harry said, still lifting up floor panels, following the wires. "But sometimes you gotta ask what the girl is doing in a dark alley at three in the morning in a bad part of town."
"I was in love with him."
"It's still a bad part of town."
"I was twenty-two years old."
"How old do you have to be?"
"Up yours, Harry."
Harry shook his head. "You find the wires, Butch?"
"Yes, I found the wires. They go into some kind of a glass grid."
"Let's have a look," Norman said, going next door. He'd seen flight recorders before; they were long rectangular metal boxes, reminiscent of safe-deposit boxes, painted red or bright orange. If this was -
He stopped.
He was looking at a transparent glass cube one foot on each side. Inside the cube was an intricate grid arrangement of fine glowing blue lines. Between the glowing lines, blue lights flickered intermittently. There were two pressure gauges mounted on top of the cube, and three pistons; and there were a series of silver stripes and rectangles on the outer surface on the left side. It didn't look like anything he had seen before.