"Scientific idealism or personal ambition?" Once more, Davith sighed. "No matter. Too late now in any event. I'm simply warning you. Be careful. Keep on the watch for ... instability. If he proves out, fine, then I've misjudged him; no harm done."

  Laurice turned to face him again. "Have you anything against the rest of

  the team?"

  "Newan, Enry, Thura? Well, you told me he nominated them to you, but otherwise-- No, they appear sound enough, except that they lack deep space experience.

  "Darya and Captain Vargen supply that. "

  She saw the change in him. It was as if the wind reached in under her coat. "All right, what is it, Dad? Speak out."

  "Harul Vargen," he said bleakly. "Seemed to me, too, as good a choice as any, better than most. But why did he abandon his career, drift away,

  finally bury himself among us? That's what it's amounted to. If he's

  certificated for robotic ship command, he was near the top of his profession. Here, the best he might ever get was a captaincy on some scow of an interplanetary freighter-until you approached him. What happened, those many years ago?"

  Laurice stood braced against the stones. Their hardness gave strength.

  "None of our business," she replied. "A tragedy he doesn't want to talk about, probably not think

  about. My guess-a few words that slipped loose a couple of times, when we were sitting over drinks-he does drink pretty fast-I think he lost his wife. If they'd been married a long time, maybe since his first cycle, her death would hit hard, wouldn't it?"

  "Not that hard, that permanently, if his spirit was healthy," Davith said. "Why has he postponed his next rejuvenation so long? Another two or three decades at most, and it will be too late, you know. I wondered, and got background information on him. He's making no provision for it, financial or otherwise. How much does he want to live?" He raised a palm. "Yes, of course I had no legal or ethical right to pry. To destruction with that. My daughter's life will be in his hands."

  "Not really."

  "By now he's integrated with the ship. Her skipper. His orders will override anyone else's."

  Defense: "Yes, down underneath, he is a sad man. I think this voyage, this fresh beginning, may rouse him out of that. But mainly-Dad, I haven't survived so far by entrusting myself to incompetents. Look at Harul-at Vargen's record, just in this system. The Arinberg Castle wreck, the Bannerport riot. Both times he earned a commendation. No, whatever his emotions are, they don't cloud his judgment or dull his sense of duty. "

  Laurice felt the blood in her face. She turned into the cooling wind. It

  tossed her hair.

  "I took that for granted, given the facts," Davith pursued. "But were they sufficient? Finally I sent an agent to Bretta, Vargen's home planet. "

  She gasped. "You did? Why, the-the cost-"

  "It was your life."

  She flared. "And you didn't see fit to tell me."

  "I did not," he replied. "You'd object. Even if you promised to keep

  silent, I feared you'd let something escape to him. "

  We know each other too well, Dad and 1, she thought.

  "Well," Davith continued, "the spoor was cold, and it led off Bretta, and the upshot is that I only got the report yesterday. I think you'd better hear what it said. "

  Her neck had stiffened fill it was painful to nod. "Go ahead. "

  He regarded her with a pain of his own behind his eyes before he asked low, "Have you ever heard about the Novaya disaster?"

  "No, I- Wait." She groped among shards of recollection. "I think I read something once. An asteroid strike, was it?"

  "In a way. Novaya's far off, but at the time, the news flashed across the Galaxy. It was well before you were bom, though, and other events, looking bigger in their perspective, soon pushed this down to the bottom of our general consciousness."

  Remorselessly: "Erthuma-colonized planet. A large asteroid was perturbed into a collision orbit. It happened suddenly and unpredictably. The asteroid passed near a gas giant with many moons. Chaotic events occur sometimes in celestial mechanics, as well as on smaller scales. Factors are so precariously balanced that an immeasurably small force can make them go one way rather than another. This asteroid was flung almost straight at Novaya.

  "Almost. It plowed through the atmosphere. That would have been catastrophe enough, the shock wave, a continent ignited, but the friction slowed it into capture. An eccentric, decaying orbit, bringing it back again and again. At each approach, more broke off, huge chunks crasbing down on un foreseeable spots. They touched off quakes and volcanoes. The tsunamis from ocean strikes were nearly as bad. A war passing over the planet would have done less harm than that asteroid did, before the last fragment of it came to rest.

  "Meanwhile, naturally, as many people as possible were evacuated. Temporary shelters were established on the Novayan moon, to hold the refugees till they could be transported out-system. Spacecraft shuttled between planet and moon. An appeal went out, and ships arrived from far and wide to help. Yes, some of them were nonhuman.

  "Your friend Vargen was among the newcomers. He commanded a robotic vessel chartered by the Galactic Survey. Her owners put her at the disposal of the rescue effort. For a short while, Vargen was a busy ferryman.

  "Then the asteroid returned. The next bombardment began. He got in his ship and fled. Raced out of the gravity well, sprang through hyperspace, slunk home to Bretta.

  "He could offer no excuse. The owners fired him. His wife left him. He went on the bum, drifted about for decades, living hand to mouth off odd, unsavory jobs, now and then wangling a berth in a ship that'd take him to some different system. Finally, when he reached Florasol, he pulled himself together and got steady employment. But

  his promotions-I've verified this for myself --- they haven't

  been due any particular ambition on his part. He's merely moved up the seniority ladder.

  "That is your captain, Laurice," Davith finished.

  She stood a long while mute. The wind skirled, the cloud shadows hunted each other across the downs.

  "I'm afraid it's too late in this case, also," she said finally, dully.

  "No, we can replace him. Olwar or Sora aren't really totally unsuitable. Or

  I can look outside our House."

  She shook her head. "Any replacement would take too long. Ship-captain integration. Copperhue keeps reminding us that the climax will come soon. Any day now, perhaps. If we showed up afterward, could we discover what the Naxians did? Besides, it's a cosmic-scale thing. The environment later may be lethal."

  She attempted a grin. "Anyhow," she said, 11 aren't you glad we've got a cautious man in charge?"

  Schooled in public impassivity, he still could not entirely hide from her what he felt. It was well-nigh more than she could bear.

  "Come on," she proposed, "let's go down and say silly things at Mother, the way we used to, till lunch."

  The ship accelerated outward, seeking free space for her leap across light-years. Aft, the sun dwindled. Forward and everywhere around, night glittered with stars, the Milky Way was a white torrent of them, nebulae glowed or reared dark across brilliance, sister galaxies beckoned from across gulfs that imagination itself could not bridge.

  In her saloon, revelation. The physicists-Yoran Jarrolsson, Enry Bobsson, Newan Lucosson, Thura Halsdaughter -stared over the table at Copperhue. After a moment their eyes swung toward each other's, as if for comfort or comradeship. Watching in a comer, Laurice saw lips move silently and caught Yoran's muttered, amazed obscenity.

  The team chief recovered his wits first. But then, he had always kept his associates dependent on him. He leaned forward. "Have you no clues to what the object may be?" he demanded.

  Coiled on the opposite bench, head uplifted, the Naxian considered before responding. "None that appear significant. We common crew were seldom allowed as much as a look out; viewscreens were kept blank most of the time. I obtained my star sightings, from which I later calculated the location, when I went forth in a work party to retrieve a probe that had failed to dock properly with our ship."

  Yoran's dark, hook-nosed features drew into a scowl. "How did you take the measurements, anyway?"

  "I had fashioned an instrument while home on leave, and smuggled it aboard in my personal kit. On a prior trip, despite the unfamiliar shape of the galactic belt, I had recognized certain navigational objects, such as the Magellanic Clouds. When this opportunity came, I withdrew from my gang, telling them I had spied what might be a loose object, missing from the probe. When out of sight, I quickly made my observations and discarded the

  instrument. The numbers I stored in my mind: I had been confident such a

  chance would come, because the probes frequently had difficulty with rendezvous."

  "Yah, your Naxian robotics aren't worth scrap. And we're supposed to proceed on your memories of your amateur star shooting?"

  "We've satisfied ourselves that the data are adequate," Laurice declared. Yoran glanced her way. "Uh, sure. Sorry, milady." Half ferociously, he turned back to Copperhue. "But did you never see or overhear anything? Did

  you never think what this might all be about?"

  "The Dominance knows well how to keep secrets. Given

  our species's ability to sense emotional states, perhaps it has developed a few methods slightly better than you conceptualize. "

  A shame, Laurice thought, that the simultrans just gives out unemphatic Merse. What's Copperhue really saying with overtones and body language?

  "But you must have speculated," exclaimed Thura.

  Yoran threw her a glower. "I'll handle this discussion," he said.

  Well, Laurice thought, everybody babbling at once would make for confusion and wasted time. Nevertheless-

  She admired how Copperhue remained dignified. Or did it-he not care whether the bipeds were polite? "Since the location is in interstellar space, the phenomenon is presumably astronomical," the Naxian said. "The probability of someone having come upon it by accident is nil, considering the volume of space involved." Was that a studied insult? Certainly Yoran flushed. "Doubtless something was noticed from afar. Most likely this was in the course of a general astrographic survey. The Python Confederacy, like most nations that can afford to, has mounted several during its history. They do not significantly overlap, as huge as the galaxy is. One of these ships detected some anomaly, such as a peculiar spectrum, and went for a closer look. The report that it brought back caused the Dominance to make this a state secret and mount its own intensive investigation. "

  Yoran tugged his chin. "Well, yes, your reasoning is, uh, reasonable. Have you any further thoughts?"

  "Mainly this. Given the character of the Dominance, I am sure that its members hope for some outcome, some discovery, that will greatly strengthen the Confederacy and therefore themselves. It may be scientific, it may be economic, it may be something else. I do not know, and doubt that they know, yet. But in their minds, the possibility justifies the effort-which is, actually, a modest investment, a small gamble for perhaps a cosmically large stake. "

  Yoran straightened on his bench, as if he were a judge. ","d you're betraying your people?"

  "They are not my people," Copperhue replied, its-his natural voice gone soft.

  Laurice stirred. "That will do," she ordered. Things looked like they were getting nasty. The expedition could ill afford quarrels.

  Yoran shifted his glare to her. "Milady, I've had a hard life," he said. "I've learned lessons a patron like you is spared. A traitor once is apt to be a traitor twice."

  "Our comrade's motives are honorable," she clipped. "Watch your language. Remember, it's going into the log. 11

  Embarrassment yielded visibly to relief among the subordinates when Yoran hunched his shoulders and growled, "As milady wishes. No offense meant."

  And maybe, she, thought, that's true. Maybe he does not perceive his own boorishness.

  Newan plucked up courage to say, "I beg milady's pardon, but what's this about a log?"

  "A robotic ship records everything that happens on a voyage, inboard as well as outboard, unless directed not to," Laurice explained. "It isn't normally a violation of privacy. We have very little of that anyway, while we travel. As a general rule, at journey's end the ship edits everything irrelevant to the mission out of the database. But we can't foresee what may teach us something that may be valuable in future operations. Psychological stresses are as real as physical, and as dangerous, when you're bound into places never meant for humans."

  Had Vargen been listening outside, or did he chance to enter at that moment? His body filled the doorframe vertically, though its jambs stood well apart from him. "Pardon me," he said in his usual mannerly style. "I know this has been a big surprise sprung on you four and you have a sunful of questions; but we're just a couple of hours from hypetJump, and I need to make a certain decision first. Would you come confer with me in my cabin, Copperhue?"

  "Indeed." The Naxian slithered off its-his bench and flowed to the captain. They departed.

  The rest gaped after them. "Well," said Yoran. "Isn't he the important one? What might this decision be that we commoners mustn't hear about?"

  Why does that irritate me? wondered Laurice. Aloud, curtly: "I daresay he wants to consider possible hazards, without groundsiders butting in. You, sir, might best be preparing yourself and your team for your job, once we've arrived. "

  And what will mine be? she thought, not for the first time. What's waiting in space for me? I'm only a planetarist. And even that title is a fake. I don't do geology, oceanography, atmospherics, chemistry, biology, ethology, or xenology. I dabble at them all, and then dare call myself a scientist. She rose to her feet. I help get the specialists together, and keep them together, and sometimes keep them alive. That's my work. That justifies my being here, though I had to force it every centimeter of the way.

  Yoran got up too and approached her. His squatness barely reached above her chin. As he neared, he made a dismissing gesture at the others. They didn't leave, but they sat where they were, very silently.

  "Maybe I could put a few of our questions to you-, Milady Windfell," he said.

  "Certainly," she replied. Be friendly. After all, it was she who had brought him into this, and for justifiable reasons. She knew him to be able, quick-witted, fearless. That she sympathized with him, felt sorry, would like to give him a shot at his dream"ese things were beside the point. Weren't they? "I'll answer as best I can. "

  He cocked his head. "But we are under confidentiality. There might be some advantage to our House."

  She picked her words with care. "Possibly. Still, you know Windfell isn't interested in conquering anybody. We simply want to ... stay on top of whatever wave we'll be riding. Keep the power to make our own fate."

  "Of course. But then why are you willing to cede New Halla to that snake?" "We won't necessarily. An assembly of the House will judge how much Copperhue's help was worth to us. " I never felt more proud of what I am than when it-he agreed to trust our honor, it-he who can feel our feelings. "We will take good faith for granted and into account. The island would be no great loss to us."

  "But why does it, uh, it-he want the place?"

  "Well, you see, Copperhue is a . . . crypto-dissident in its-his nation. I don't entirely understand the situation. Maybe no human can. But it seems-we've verifie"ere's been a movement among the Naxians, starting several centuries ago. The 'trans calls it the 'Old Truth.' A religion, a way of life, or what?" Laurice spread her hands. "Something that means

  everything to its believers. And that doesn't fit well into most Naxian

  societies. It's been generally persecuted, especially in the Python Confederacy, where it was finally forbidden altogether. Copperhue's lineage is one of those that pretended to convert back to orthodoxy, but has maintained the rites and practices as best it can in secret, always hoping for some kind of liberation.

  Yoran gazed at a bulkhead. "I see. . . .

  "New Halla would be a haven for the Old Truthers," Laurice proceeded. "They aren't so many that they need more, and probably quite a few couldn't manage to leave their planets anyhow. But Copperhue, does have this idea of a refuge for them. "

  "Yes." The black eyes caught at hers. "They'll be under Atheran sovereignty. We'll be their protectors. And they'll multiply, and move into other parts, and eventually our evening star will be full of snakes, won't it?"

  "How would that harm us?" she retorted. "They'd acquire any further land legitimately. We've made sure that their principles are decent. I should think there'd be pretty wonderful potentials in having beings that different for our friends and neighbors. "

  "Well-" The hostility dropped away. He shivered. "Maybe. Who knows? You understand, milady, don't you, I'm concerned about our House. It's mine too. I'm only a client, adopted at that, but I belong with Windfell. "

  Pushy, she thought; and then: No, that's unfair. Isn't it?

  Encourage him. "Leave politics to the patrons, Yoran. Look to your personal future. Why would the Pythons be so interested in this thing ahead of us, if they didn't believe it may lead them to something really new? Something as revolutionary as, oh, quantum mechanics or nuclear fission and fusion or the unifying equation."

  She saw the pallor come and go in the blue cheeks, the hair stir on the backs of his hands. "Yes," he said hoarsely, yes, that's possible, isn't it? Thank you, milady. "

  Again his gaze sought hers, but this time half in worship. Well, she thought, I've known for years he's in love with me.

  "Stand by for hypedump." The ship's voice filled her cabins and corridors with melody. Laurice had a moment's envisionment of her as the stars might see, a golden torpedo soaring amidst.their myriads.

  "Ten, nine, eight-" sang the countdown. It wasn't necessary, only a custom followed when time allowed. That sense of oneness with history, clear back to the rockets of antiquity, gave heart on the rim of enigma. --five, four-" Laurice tensed in her safety harness. The console before her seemed abruptly alien. She, the fire control officer? A jape, a sop. Darya alone could direct the weapons she carried. --two" Well, but somebody had to decide whether to shoot and at what, and Vargen would have plenty else occupying his attention. --one-" Besides, Vargen was a coward.