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themselves,
greedily filling the space.
    Number Four played its image out, giving way
to another image, which formed itself with a view of a cloud
formation far to the west. That formation, shown as small storms,
dispersed into a weak trough, then--… the trough joined a small
storm, which merged with a larger which--… stopped about where
Number Three began.
    "My current model," Brunner said, "is Number
Three. On screen to the left is the model that predicted the
current positions within this--" a touch on keypads, a screen tap,
an overlay.…
    The images were not identical by any means,
but on a gross scale storm overlaid storm, calm highs overlaid calm
highs.
    "Ah," said the Scout, executing a small
bow.
    "My model works from the assumptions my
predecessor made initially, modified to reflect my conclusions that
we have here in Klamath a planet acting more like a gas planet than
a core planet, a planet whose weather is not only driven by surface
and near surface conditions but by core convection and other
inconvenient energy sources such as groundswell tides and the
like."
    "So there might be a paper in this for you?
A publication is always good for the career!"
    Brunner shook his head, his attention still
mostly on the screen and the predicted, coming storm.
    "I am not so sure," he said to the Scout.
"The information may be owned by my employer, after all. If they
care to admit that it exists. At the moment the chief is
broadcasting my real-time information, but uses the old model for
the official predictions he broadcasts."
    The Scout raised his hands, palms up.
    "Chief Thurton values the neutrality of the
station high, does he not?"
    Brunner sighed. "Staff is under orders to
write a letter of dissent to your involving the mercenary unit in
our work. I am to report any actions I perform under your orders or
in your name."
    "Yes," said the Scout, who was pacing the
long axis of the room almost as if he were at exercise. "You must,
of course, follow protocols. My orders to this point amount to you
doing your work, making your predictions, and sharing that
information with interested parties. My actions are the same;
report them as you must. In the meanwhile, you must be aware that
your communications with those on the surface may be public."
    Now the scout favored him with a bow of
direct instruction.
    "As I understand matters you are from time
to time in direct contact with the party carrying your monitor.
Continue that association, and share with that group your exact
forecasts. You are to make the fullest use possible of the Stubbs
unit. Read the manual thoroughly, and forward information as may be
required to maintain the unit's performance. Report and forecast
the weather accurately. I do not require you to seek out other
interested parties to share your predictions with: simply make
them, forward them to your party on the ground and to the control
room where Chief Thurton must see the information shared."
    He spun, standing ready on the balls of his
feet, as if he expected to need to run, or leap--
    "Understand me, Brunner. In so far as you
are able, insure the continued performance of the Stubbs unit. That
serves the purpose of the organization which hired your company and
it serves my needs as Scout-in-Place. As to the needs of the group
carrying the unit--… inform them that I have forbidden landings by
unaccredited spacecraft, and that ongoing scheduled unmanned
replenishment may go forward. I have broadcast a request
planet-wide that civilian populations not be targeted and that I
will permit landings on my approval only and by agreement of
locally recognized authorities."
    Brunner bowed in receipt, and considered his
latest predictions.
    "Then I am to suggest to--… Corporal
Robertson--… that the Stubbs should be on a protected elevation
away from rivers within three Standard days and that wind speeds of
up to one fourth the speed of sound are probable?"
    The Scout bowed his assent.
    "You are so