“I wonder if it’s only Jeff they’re after,” he said.
In due course the Inspector presented his report. The Islanders would have given much to see it. All the statistics and records went into the insatiable memories of the great computers which were some, but not all, of the unseen powers behind Karellen. Even before these impersonal electric minds had arrived at their conclusions, however, the Inspector had given his own recommendations. Expressed in the thoughts and language of the human race, they would have run as follows:
“We need take no action regarding the Colony. It is an interesting experiment, but cannot in any way affect the future. Its artistic endeavours are no concern of ours, and there is no evidence that any scientific research is progressing along dangerous channels.
“As planned, I was able to see the school records of Subject Zero, without arousing curiosity. The relevant statistics are attached, and it will be seen that there are still no signs of any unusual development. Yet, as we know, Breakthrough seldom gives much prior warning.
“I also met the Subject’s father, and gathered the impression that he wished to speak to me. Fortunately I was able to avoid this. There is no doubt that he suspects something, though of course he can never guess the truth nor affect the outcome in any way.
“I grow more and more sorry for these people.”
George Greggson would have agreed with the Inspector’s verdict that there was nothing unusual about Jeff. There was just that one baffling incident, as startling as a single clap of thunder on a long, calm day. And after that — nothing.
Jeff had all the energy and inquisitiveness of any other seven-year-old. He was intelligent — when he bothered to be — but was in no danger of becoming a genius. Sometimes, Jean thought a little wearily, he filled to perfection the classic recipe for a small boy: “a noise surrounded by dirt”. Not that it was very easy to be certain about the dirt, which had to accumulate for a considerable time before it showed against Jeff’s normal sunburn.
By turns he could be affectionate or morose, reserved or ebullient. He showed no preference for one parent rather than the other, and the arrival of his little sister had not produced any signs of jealousy. His medical card was spotless; he had never had a day’s illness in his life. But in these times, and in such a climate, there was nothing unusual about this.
Unlike some boys, Jeff did not grow quickly bored by his father’s company and desert him whenever possible for associates of his own age. It was obvious that he shared George’s artistic talents, and almost as soon as he was able to walk had become a regular back-stage visitor to the Colony’s theatre. Indeed, the theatre had adopted him as an unofficial mascot, and he was now highly skilled at presenting bouquets to visiting celebrities of stage and screen.