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  They reached the end of the screen. With a flourish, Urbain turned the corner and pointed to the massive object standing in the middle of the laboratory floor.

  The first thing that Cardenas noticed was that the lab had been cleaned, the floor swept. Not a scrap of paper or equipment in sight. No wires snaking across the floor or dangling from overhead mounts. He's spiffed up his lab, Cardenas thought. He's got it looking like an old automobile showroom.

  "There it is," Urbain said, aglow with pride. "Titan Alpha."

  A spacecraft, Cardenas realized. More than two meters tall; nearly three, she estimated. Standing on a pair of caterpillar treads, like an old-fashioned tank. Massive. Silvery-gray. Titanium, she guessed. Its oblong body was studded with projections.

  "It has been built here, completely," Urbain said, almost in a whisper. "It did not exist when we left Earth. None of it. My staff and I constructed it."

  Cardenas became aware that half a dozen men and women were standing off along the far wall of the lab, like students who had been lined up and told to remain quiet and respectful.

  "You'll go to the surface of Titan in this," Cardenas said.

  "Not in person, of course," said Urbain. "Alpha is designed to be teleoperated from here in the habitat. It is a mobile laboratory that will explore the surface of Titan for us."

  "I see."

  Urbain snapped his fingers; one of the technicians across the lab whirled and began tapping out instructions on a desk-sized console. The spacecraft seemed to stir. A loud electrical hum filled the lab and a pair of long, skeletal arms unfolded from one side of its body. Pincerlike claws opened and shut. Cardenas instinctively moved back a couple of steps.

  Urbain laughed. "Don't be afraid. She won't harm you. Those grippers can handle the most delicate biological samples without damaging them."

  "It's... very impressive."

  "Yes, isn't she? Alpha is equipped with a complete array of sensors. She can take samples, store them in insulated capsules and send them back to us, here in the habitat, for analysis."

  "Won't it return after it's finished its mission?"

  "No. Never. She remains on Titan. We will send replenishments of fuel and supplies for its sensors."

  "Isn't it nuclear powered?" Cardenas asked.

  "Of course! The fuel is necessary for the sample-return rockets."

  "I see."

  Urbain sighed contentedly. "I haven't had as much time to spend on this project as I would have liked. My hours are consumed with this political campaign, you know."

  Cardenas nodded. "Yet you've completed the job. It's a great accomplishment."

  "I am blessed with a fine staff."

  Afraid that Urbain would order the bulky spacecraft to start trundling across the laboratory floor, Cardenas said, "I'm very grateful that you asked me to see it."

  She started toward the door, slowly. Urbain caught up with her in two strides.

  "My motivation was not entirely from pride," he said, looking a little less animated now. "I have a favor to request of you."

  Still walking along the screen, feeling somehow oppressed by the massive spacecraft, almost threatened by it, Cardenas replied with, "A favor?"

  Urbain hesitated, as if he didn't know how to choose the right words. "It concerns Alpha's self-repair capabilities."

  Cardenas glanced sharply at him.

  "I was wondering," Urbain said as they turned around the end of the screen, "if nanomachines might be able to repair Alpha while she is on the surface of Titan."

  Cardenas nodded, thinking, So that's it. They're all terrified of nanobugs until they come up against something where nanomachines can help them.

  "I mean," Urbain went on, "you yourself have nanomachines in your body, don't you? They're constantly repairing your tissues, aren't they?"

  With a slight laugh of relief, Cardenas answered, "And you'd like to have a nanotech immune system built into your spacecraft."

  "Nanomachines that could continuously repair any equipment failures or damage."

  "Or wear and tear," Cardenas added.

  "Yes! Precisely."

  She stopped at the open doorway, thinking swiftly. "It would take time, Dr. Urbain. When do you plan to send the spacecraft to Titan?"

  "As soon as we establish orbit around Saturn. Within a few days of that, at the most."

  "I certainly can't come up with a set of therapeutic nanos that soon."

  "But perhaps they could be sent to Alpha after she is on Titan, once you produce them."

  "Perhaps," Cardenas conceded.

  "Will you look into the possibilities?" he asked eagerly.

  Cardenas saw in his eyes that he regarded this machine of his almost like a human being, a woman he loved and cherished and wanted to protect, keep from harm. A kind-hearted Dr. Frankenstein, she thought, worried about the creature he's created. Then a sharp pang of memory hit her. How many times have you been called Frankenstein? she asked herself.

  "Can you do it?" Urbain pressured.

  "I can try."

  "Good! Excellent!"

  "Under one condition," she added.

  His brows rose toward his receding hairline. "Condition? If you mean you want me to allow that... that stuntman to go down to the surface—"

  Cardenas said, "But we've tested the decontamination procedure several times now. I've sent you the reports."

  "Tests in the airlock. Yes, I've scanned your reports."

  "So you know that we can clean his suit to your satisfaction." Suddenly Cardenas got a new inspiration. "We can decon your spacecraft the same way."

  "Alpha can be decontaminated the normal way."

  "Yes, but if you use nanomachines you won't have to subject the spacecraft to such high levels of radiation. Won't that be better for its electronics systems?"

  Urbain started to reply, stopped himself, then admitted, "Yes. Definitely."

  "I can set that up for you in a couple of days. By the time we're in Saturn orbit I'll be able to decon your craft as clean as new-fallen snow."

  "But that doesn't mean that I can allow the stuntman to go down to the surface. The IAA forbids it. My hands are tied."

  Don't push it any farther, Cardenas told herself. You've got a toe in the door. Let it rest there, for now.

  Yet she heard herself say, "There is one other thing."

  Urbain's brows went up again.

  "It's rather minor...."

  "What is it?"

  "One of your staff people, Dr. Wunderly—"

  "Wunderly?"

  "She needs some telescope time to study the rings."

  "Impossible. I've told her—"

  "Surely you can spare some time at one of the telescopes for her," Cardenas said, more as a declaration than a request. "After all, you're going to have your spacecraft operating on Titan's surface in a few weeks, won't you?"

  Urbain hesitated. "Yes, that's true enough."

  "And you want to be able to use nanomachines to keep it in good shape."

  His face showed clearly that he understood Cardenas's threat. "I see. Yes. Very well, I will attempt to get some time for Wunderly on one of the telescopes so she can study her wretched rings."

  "Fine," said Cardenas. "And I'll attempt to develop a set of nanomachines that can auto-repair your spacecraft while it's on Titan."

  "And to decontaminate Alpha," Urbain reminded her.

  Cardenas nodded her agreement and started for the door. Then she turned back. "By the way, how is the political campaign going?"

  Urbain took in a sharp breath, as if surprised by her sudden change of subject. Then he shrugged. "It takes too much of my time. I must give speeches, prepare position papers on everything from medical care to garbage recycling. Every person in the habitat feels free to ask me pointless questions and to give me their own vapid opinions."

  "That's politics, I guess," Cardenas said, chuckling.

  "I fear it will be even worse after I am elected."

  "You expect to
win?"

  "Of course. This is a scientific mission, isn't it? The whole purpose of our flight to Saturn is scientific."

  "But the scientists are only a small part of the population," Cardenas pointed out.

  "Yes, of course. But the others will vote for me. It is the only logical choice they can make. Eberly is the only other major candidate, and he has no scientific background at all."

  "What about the engineer, Timoshenko?"

  Urbain made an unpleasant face. "He is nothing. A posturer. The engineers and technicians will vote for me, overwhelmingly."

  Cardenas held back the comment she wanted to make. Better not to disillusion the man, she thought. He'll find out soon enough on election day. It'll bruise his ego, but in the long run he'll probably be relieved to get out of politics and give all his attention to his clunky Alpha.

  SATURN ARRIVAL Minus 45 Days

  The three women met for breakfast in the cafeteria, so early that the place was hardly half filled. Holly thought the cafeteria seemed different this early in the morning: quieter, subdued, as if the people shuffling through the lines weren't fully awake yet. She found Kris and Nadia Wunderly already at a table, heads leaning together, pleased grins on their faces.

  Holly unloaded her tray of melon slices, bran cereal, soy milk, and faux coffee and sat down.

  Wunderly looked happy, her big gray eyes sparkling. "I still can't thank you enough for getting me some telescope time. You should see the dynamics of those rings! It's ... it's..."

  Cardenas laughed lightly. "Words fail you?"

  A little embarrassed, Wunderly said, "I'd like you to see the imagery I've been getting." Turning to Holly, Wunderly said, "You too, Holly." Holly smiled at her. "Sure. I'd love to."

  Wunderly asked Cardenas, "I still can't understand how you got Urbain to let me use the 'scope."

  Still grinning, Cardenas said, "Trickery and deceit. And a little blackmail."

  "Whatever works, I guess," Holly said.

  Wunderly dipped into her bowl of soy yogurt. "Thanks to you, Kris, I can feed Manny the data he needs."

  Holly's innards twitched. "Manny?"

  "He wants to dive through the rings," Wunderly explained. "But he can't do it without my help."

  Looking across the table to Cardenas, Holly said, "I haven't seen Manny in weeks. How is he?"

  Wunderly answered, "Terrific."

  Cardenas looked surprised. "Come to think of it, the last time I saw him was our final test of the decon nanos."

  Wunderly glanced from Holly to Cardenas and then back again. "I see him almost every day," she said. A little smugly, Holly thought.

  "Do you see him nights?" asked Cardenas, raising her teacup to her lips.

  Wunderly said, "Sure. Sometimes." Very smugly, as far as Holly was concerned.

  "He's pretty good, isn't he?" said Cardenas.

  Wunderly nodded with pleasure.

  Suddenly aware, Holly blurted, "Kris, have you maxed out with Manny?"

  Cardenas actually blushed. Nodding behind her teacup, she said in a small voice, "A couple of times. You said you didn't mind, remember?"

  "I don't mind," Holly insisted, knowing from the turmoil inside her that it wasn't really true.

  Wunderly's owl eyes went even wider than usual. "You mean he's slept with both of you?"

  Cardenas put down her teacup. "Actually, we didn't do all that much sleeping."

  Holly burst into laughter. The pain inside her dissolved. "He's a flamer, all right."

  Wunderly looked hurt, though. "Both of you," she whispered. It was no longer a question.

  Cardenas reached across the table to touch Wunderly's hand. "He's just a man, Nadia. It doesn't mean anything to him. Just fun and games. Recreational."

  "But I thought—"

  "Don't think. Just enjoy. He'll be heading back to Earth soon. Have fun while you can."

  " 'Gather ye rosebuds'," Holly quoted, wondering where she remembered the line from.

  Forcing a halfhearted smile, Wunderly said, "I suppose you're right. But still..."

  "Just don't get pregnant."

  "Oh, I'd never!"

  Holly was thinking, though. "He slept with me when he needed help from the administration. And he slept with you, Kris, when he found out you could help him with nanobugs."

  "And now he's sleeping with me," Wunderly chimed in, "because I can help him with the rings."

  "That sonofabitch," Cardenas said. But she was grinning widely.

  "You know what they'd call a woman who did that," Wunderly said.

  Holly didn't know if she should be angry, amused, or disgusted.

  "It's a good thing he'll be leaving soon," Cardenas said. "Otherwise he might get murdered."

  "He's getting away with murder right now," said Wunderly, with a tinge of anger.

  "Well," Cardenas said, "he's good at it."

  Holly asked, "Nadia, are you going to keep on with him?"

  "I couldn't! Not now."

  "Why not?" Cardenas asked. "If you enjoy being with him, why not?"

  "But he's ... it's... it's not right."

  With a shake of her head, Cardenas said, "Don't let the New Morality spoil your fun. There's nothing wrong with recreational sex, as long as you understand that it's recreational and nothing more. And you protect yourself."

  Holly wondered, How do you protect your heart? How do you let a man make love to you and then just walk away and let him go do it with someone else? With your friends, for god's sake.

  Wunderly nodded slightly, but she looked just as unconvinced as Holly felt.

  "It's not like the old days," Cardenas went on, "when you had to worry about AIDS and VD."

  "I read about AIDS in history class," Wunderly said. "It must have been terrible."

  "Just don't get yourself pregnant."

  "I won't. I can't. The habitat's regulations won't allow it."

  Cardenas was no longer grinning. "I can remember a time, back before either one of you were born, when religious fundamentalists were against abortion. Against any kind of family planning."

  "Really?" Holly was surprised.

  "Yes. It wasn't until they dropped their 'right to life' position that the New Morality began to gain real political power. Once the Catholics got an American Pope, even the Vatican caved in."

  For several moments all three of the women were silent. The cafeteria seemed to be waking up. There were more people coming in, more chatter and clatter as they lined up for their breakfasts before heading off to their jobs.

  Wunderly pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. "I've got to make a progress report to Dr. Urbain."

  "And Manny?" Cardenas asked.

  She shrugged. "I don't know. He can be ... well, attractive, you know."

  "Seductive," said Cardenas.

  "Charming," Holly added. "Like a snake."

  Wunderly just shook her head and walked off, leaving her half-finished breakfast on the table.

  "What do you think she'll do?" Holly asked.

  Cardenas chuckled. "She'll go to bed with him but feel bad about it."

  "That's brutal."

  "Yep."

  "Would you go to bed with him again?"

  Cardenas gave her a guarded look. "Would you?"

  Holly felt her lips curling upward into a rueful smile. "Only if he asks me."

  They both laughed.

  "The sonofabitch is getting away with murder, all right," Cardenas said.

  Suddenly serious, Holly said softly, "I wonder if somebody else has gotten away with murder."

  "Huh? Who?"

  "I don't know. I just wonder about Don Diego."

  "You're still gnawing on that?"

  "They didn't find anything wrong with him."

  "Except that he drowned."

  "But how could he drown?" Holly wondered. "How could a man fall into a few centimeters of water and drown himself?"

  "He was pretty old," Cardenas said.

  "But his health wa
s fine. They didn't find any heart failure or any sign of a stroke."

  "You think someone pushed him into the water and deliberately drowned him?"

  The scene appeared in Holly's mind, every detail, just as she had seen it that day. "I don't know. Maybe."

  "Who? Why?"

  Holly shrugged. "I don't know. I wish I did."

  CAMPAIGN SPEECHES

  The political debate was held in the habitat's outdoor theater, a big concrete shell that curved gracefully to focus the sound waves produced on its stage out into the rows of seats set up on the grass.

  It's a fairly good crowd, Eberly thought as he looked out over the audience. Must be more than a thousand out there, and a lot more watching by vid. Seated on the stage three meters to his left was Edouard Urbain, looking stiffly elegant in an old-fashioned dove-gray suit over a sky-blue turtleneck. Next to him sat Timoshenko, sour and gruff; he wore gray coveralls as a symbol of pride in his profession. Eberly thought he looked like a janitor. Eberly himself wore a dark charcoal tunic and comfortable slacks of lighter gray, true to the dress code he had promulgated.

  Wilmot stood at the podium in his usual tweed jacket and shapeless trousers, explaining the rules of the debate.

  "...each candidate will begin with a five-minute summary of his position, to be followed by another five minutes apiece for rebuttal. Then the meeting will be opened to questions from the audience."

  Eberly kept himself from smiling. Vyborg and Kananga had "seeded" the audience with dozens of supporters, each of them armed with questions that would allow Eberly to dominate the Q A period. He had no intention of allowing Urbain or Timoshenko to say a single word more than absolutely necessary.

  "So without further ado, allow me to introduce Dr. Edouard Urbain, head of our scientific section," said Wilmot. He began reading Urbain's curriculum vitae from the display on the podium.

  What a bore, thought Eberly. Who cares what scientific honors he won in Quebec?

  At last Urbain got up and went to the podium to the accompaniment of scattered applause. There are only a few scientists in the audience, Eberly realized. So much the better. He saw that Urbain limped, ever so slightly. Strange I'd never noticed that before, he said to himself. Is that something new, or has he always walked with a little limp? Looking out over the audience, Eberly recognized several of his own people, including Holly and the stuntman, Gaeta, sitting in the front row. Good. Just as I ordered.