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Now we’ve had no luck thus far with our probes. But let us keep it up long enough, and sheer statistics guarantees that eventually one will find its way back to us, with a record of the routes that it took. Let this happen a number of times, and we’ll at least have the information we need to reach that many stars. We may also begin to get a glimmering of the basic principles, of how to plot a course for ourselves.

This will be especially true if we encounter another race that is likewise probing. We can compare notes….

The presentation ended at that point, twenty-odd years in the past. Joelle wondered how the tape had gotten here. Maybe a fussy curator decreed that, if the San Geronimo Wheel was to be a monument, historical references in its data bank should be kept current.

For a minute she imagined another update, starting four
years back in the time of Sol or Phoebus, twelve years back in her own life.

(View from the watchship at the Phoebean machine, of an unknown craft suddenly arriving. Long, blunt-nosed, serrated, surrounded by a blue haze, she is obviously not human-built. She makes no response to signals, but at high accelerations traces out a path among the markers which officers aboard the watchship closely note, until she disappears.

(Scenes of public furor and of secret debate after the news has broken. Officialdom has come to despair of the cost effectiveness of robot probes and sent none for quite some time. The decision is reached not to send any now, but, instead, a manned vessel, along that path. Volunteers for the crew will not be lacking.

(Emissary
goes through the unknown gate and vanishes.

(Astoundingly soon.
Emissary
returns.

(Interview with a famous holothete, who explains what she has learned from the Betans. They have been using this transport engine, which they discovered by sheer cut-and-try, for the past three centuries—but infrequently, as a relay to or from a part of the galaxy which they seldom have occasion to visit. No planet in the system attracts them as a colony site, and as for scientific research, they already have more going than they can handle. Hastily homebound, accustomed to employing neutrinos rather than radio or lasers for communication in space, the crew of this particular craft did not notice that newcomers were present.

(This sequence differs from previous ones in that the famous holothete is not addressing the whole human world, but those few men who hold her captive.)

“Well,” Joelle asked, “do you understand better?”

“No,” Fidelio confessed.

“Nor I,” Joelle said.

T
HE WORDS
Lis spoke made Brodersen glance around him. The sole public phone in Novy Mir was on a wall of its tavern. However, nobody appeared interested. Sunlight entered through the windows and an open door, along with odors of soil and growth, to set an ikon aglow and brighten the whole dim little room. A pair of oldsters sipped tea and played chess. A younger man sat near the samovar, though he drank vodka, and talked idly with the landlord. Their eyes did keep drifting elsewhere—but toward Caitlín, who occupied a table by herself and scowled at a glass of what these Russians imagined to be beer.
Anyhow, few people hereabouts know English,
Brodersen recalled.
Maybe none
.

“Okay.” He turned back to the screen. “How’s that again, sweetheart?”

For an instant, seeing the image of her face and the signs of sleeplessness on it, he felt how sundered they were. The physical distance was trivial. But he dared not come to her, nor she to him, that they might touch. They could not even call other directly. From here his voice went to the cabin on Lake Artemis, where it was scrambled and passed on to their house, where Lis’ instrument strained out the pre-recorded conversation between “Abner Croft” and her husband—which ought to help convince Hancock’s linetappers that he was home—and reconstructed his message. Her answer must retrace the same long route.

“I said, only five of the crew agreed to go.” Lis named them. “The rest promised to keep silence, and I believe they will, but, well, the way Ram Das Gupta put it was, he has a family to think about, and this venture isn’t just desperate, it could become lawless.”

“Damn and double damn!” Brodersen snarled. “They were all ready enough to go through the gate, to wherever
Emissary
did, if we could get clearance and the guidepath data with God knows what at the far side, and He not telling.”

“That’s not the same. I, I can’t help sympathizing. The Union does mean so much. Defying it is a kind of blasphemy.”

“The cabal are who’re defying it, subverting it.”

“You may be wrong, darling. You may be. And whether or not you are, if you try this thing and fail—” She strove to hold pain out of her speech and features. “I’ll always be proud, you know that, but maybe I won’t be able to convince Barbara and Mike that their dad did not die a criminal.”

Brodersen’s fist slammed the wall. Those in the room gave him a startled glance. He took a deep breath and felt his throat loosen a bit.

“We went through this before, the other night,” he said. “I tell you again, I do not aim to get reckless.” He constructed a grin. “Would I have lasted to date if I were a bold type?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She blinked hard. “I can’t help being afraid for you. If I could come along, oh, for that I’d give whatever years of my life I may have to live without you.”

Overwhelmed, he could mumble nothing but, “Aw, shucks, honey.”

Showing merely her head, the screen nonetheless told him how she straightened. “If I back you up from here, that is my way of going along,” she said. “Do your job, Elisabet Leino, and do it right!”

“Say, look, I never meant—”

“Let’s stick to business.” She spoke briskly. “Can you get by with those five crewmen?”

He wrestled himself down into her kind of calm. “As far as conning
Chinook
or
Williwaw,
sure, no problem. Besides, remember, the first thing I figure to do is contact the Señor. He may well be able to take over completely from there. Everything may turn out downright disappointingly safe and easy.”

“In which case, after you come back, we’ll raise some private hell.”

“Sure.” The smile flew between them, and away. “All right, we’ve got a skeleton crew standing by. What about leave to go?”

“I’m working on that.”

Brodersen frowned. “Um-m-m. How long d’you reckon it’ll take? Hancock’s pretty soon bound to suspect I’ve furloughed myself.”

“I’m doing nothing to remind her of us. Instead, I’ve gotten hold of Barry Two Eagles.” As the Astronautical Control
Board’s commissioner for the Phoebean System, he held authority over space traffic. “Confidential-like, you understand. We had dinner yesterday evening,
tête-á-tête,
at the Apollo House. He’s got hot pants for me, you know You didn’t?” Lis laughed. “You’re nowhere near as depraved as you claim to be, Dan, dearest.”

“Um, yeah, he’s a good fellow,” Brodersen said with a reluctance that surprised him.

“True. I like him, and do not like using him, because he’ll get no satisfaction, though he doesn’t know that yet. Anyhow, he’ll do nothing illegal, of course, but he’ll be within his rights to clear
Chinook
for Sol without telling the governor. Especially since he doesn’t know you’re supposed to be under arrest. I explained you’re busy, but you’ve heard how Aventureros badly wants to charter your ship and asked me to handle the matter. To him it looks like a typical Brodersen-Leino snap decision.

“I explained furthermore that Aurie Hancock would veto it if she knew beforehand, because she and her husband have stock in a rival corporation—oh, you’d have enjoyed the yarn I spun. He was shocked, denied she’d be that venal, but I prattled him into agreeing to keep silence, and then offered him a bribe. He’s thinking it over.”

“Huh? Barry don’t bribe.”

“Not exactly. But when I remarked that if this deal went through, we’d be in a position to make a substantial donation to research on brain tissue cloning—” She saw the man wince, and did herself. Two Eagles had ordered a doctor to switch off the machine that maintained what was left of his son after a skull-shattering accident. “Dan, we
will
. Regardless.”

“For certain. I wish you hadn’t had to, though.”

“Me too. But I did have to.”

After a moment, Brodersen said: “Well. Expect he’ll agree?”

“I’ve little doubt. He ought to call me this afternoon.”

“What about picking me up?”

“That’s in the package. I told him several of
Chinook’s
crew had last-minute business groundside, and because of the need for discretion couldn’t engage a shuttle to the ship. They’ll meet at a spot where
Williwaw
can fetch them, if he issues a permit.” Lis paused. “Where should it be?”

Brodersen had already considered that. “East shore of Spearhorn Lake. Well off in the backwoods, you recall, though there’s a road of sorts—easy landing site—okay?”

“Okay.” She glanced at her watch. “Hold on.” He realized
she was punching a keyboard. “There. Our tape was running out. I patched in the extra section.”

“Good girl.” He stood helpless to kiss her. “Oh, good girl.”

“I’m not sure we have much else to talk about,” she said forlornly. “If the boat doesn’t come tonight, I suppose you’d better find a phone and check with me tomorrow morning.”

“Naturalmente, querida.”

“The kids are fine, except for missing you. Barbara’s having her nap. I could wake her.”

“Don’t.”

“She said to tell you hello from her and Slewfoot both.”

“Tell her hello right back, and—and—”

They stumbled along for a minute or two till Brodersen exploded: “Hell! This isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?”

“No. And you’d better move. That lake’s a ways from Novy Mir.”

“Yeah. Right. I love you, Lis.”

“Goodbye, darling.” She operated controls to segue in a canned farewell. “I mean, ‘So long.
Hasta la vista.’
But don’t worry if it takes you a while. I’ll always be here.”

The screen blanked. Not quite steadily, Brodersen sought Caitlín’s table. The chair creaked when his weight thumped down.

She reached to clasp his hand. “Is all well, my heart?” she asked low.

“Seems like it,” he muttered, staring down at the scarred surface.

“And underneath., all is ill. That poor brave lady. It’s fine judgment you showed in choosing her, Dan, so it is.”

He met her green gaze and essayed a smile. “I’m a good judge of women. Drink up and let’s clear out of here.”

“Gladly will I go with you anywhere, my own, but—” she made a wry mouth—“must I drink up?”

“No, never mind. Leave it for the poor.”

“What, and be starting a revolution?”

Somewhat cheered, he bade the landlord,
“Adiós”
and accompanied her forth. Phoebus was approaching noon, most settlers were out in the communal cropland, houses dreamed side by side along a single dusty street. Their timber smelled tarry in the warmth, though bright images adorned the gables. A cat strolled by. A
babushka
sat on her stoop, knitting, while she kept watch on a couple of small children at play, whose shouts
were almost the only sound. Beyond, the valley reached green to the mountains whose sheerness enclosed it. The scene might have come out of a book of nursery tales, Brodersen thought.

But fusion-powered spacecraft had brought its creators here; agrochemists guided the conversion of the soil until Terrestrial plants, duly modified by geneticists, could flourish; ecological technology, working mostly on the microbial level, held at bay the native life which else would return and reconquer; at night, the constellations bore names like Aeneas and Gryphus, and only a powerful telescope could find the star which was Sol.

“Where are we bound?” Caitlín inquired as he opened the car bubble.

“To meet with the boat that’ll take me off,” Brodersen said. “Will you return this runabout to the rental agency for me, please?”

“What, has it not an autopilot you can be setting for that?”

“Yes, but you’ll be to hellangone from anywhere.”

“What do you mean I will?”

“Hey, wait, you don’t think—”

“Get in,” she said. “Drive while we fight, so we can be done with that when we arrive and ready for more interesting pastimes.”

“Pegeen,” he sighed, casting off guilt, for Lis would not begrudge him what comfort he could seize, “you’ve got a one-track mind.”

“True,” she agreed. “Isn’t it a
nice
track?”

Chinook
swung about Demeter like a near moon. Later she would be a comet.

Modeled on
Emissary,
since hers was to have been the same purpose if the gods were kind to Brodersen, she was a sphere, two hundred meters in diameter, mirror-burnished. (Her powerplant could easily keep her warm; getting rid of heat was the occasional problem.) Aft, the focuser for her jet traced out, with its framework, a graceful tulip shape. Amidships were the auxiliaries, swivel-mounted chemical rocket motors. Around the forward hemisphere, locks, turrets, housing, and electronic dishes broke her smoothness. At the pole opposite the main drive, two cranes flanked a great circular door.

Her crew were aboard. That had gone more easily than Leino intimated to Two Eagles. They had taken the regular ferry to
Persephone, unnoticed among the other passengers. At the port they engaged a private boat, whose owner-pilot cleared for Erion and then took them to their ship instead. Intersatellite traffic was only loosely monitored, and most spacemen were willing to break a regulation or two if it would help a lodge mate.

Fetching the captain unbeknownst presented more of a problem.

Word came. The door swung aside. A conveyor thrust
Williwaw
halfway out. The cranes laid hold on the boat, hauled her forth, swung her around so her blast wouldn’t touch the mother vessel. In shape her seventy-five-meter length suggested a torpedo, fins at the rear, wings recessed near the waist, lanceolate boom projecting from the nose.

Vapor gushed from her, too hot to be visible. The cranes let go and she accelerated. A portion of the water condensed kilometers behind, making a cloud that roiled spectral white before dissipating. It was an inefficient system compared to a plasma drive, but it could endure rough passage through an atmosphere. For all her size and the unimaginable energies that her engine released and channeled,
Chinook
was too fragile for that, or for ever landing anywhere.