excoriated it; several people explained, unnecessarily, the political situation that had caused the trouble. Some defended the right of any associate to withhold funds, to which the response was that no one questioned the new U.S. president's right to act as he had. It was his good sense they wondered about.
'Infinity Mendez.' He paused after saying his name.
'I think it's true that we can't panic. But if we pretend nothing's happened, if we don't fight back, they'll take more and more and more until they leave us nothing.'
The intensity of his soft voice left the amphitheater in absolute silence. He raised his head and glanced around.
'I think . . .' Tension grabbed his shoulders; something more than shyness silenced him. He ducked his head. 'I have nothing more to say.'
'My name is Thanthavong.' The geneticist paused. 'We have a guest.'
Thanthavong drew the attention of the meeting to Griffith, standing in the shadows at the entrance of a tunnel. For a moment he looked as if he might try to fade into the shadows completely. Instead, he moved forward and took a stance both belligerent and defensive.
'I have a right to be here,' he said. 'More right than you do. I'm a representative of the U.S. government, and this ship was built with U.S. funds.'
'Partially,' Thanthavong said. 'But this starship is a public institution of the world, and by law and custom our meetings are open. No one has suggested that you have no right to attend. But you are not a member of the expedition and I am inviting you to introduce yourself.'
'My name is Griffith. I'm from the GAO.'
'You are welcome to sit down, Griffith . . . if you wish to observe more closely.''
He sat, reluctantly, on the top terrace, as near to the exit as he could be. He must have heard the soft, irritable mutter that rose when he announced his occupation. Gradually the complaints fell to silence.
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'Satoshi Lono.' Satoshi paused. 'If we fight—what form of action will we take? Legal battles? Public relations? If we consider physical resistance, where do we set the limits?'
The silence that answered the words 'physical resistance' lasted some time. Then, inevitably, people began to look toward Infinity, the first person to mention fighting. Uncomfortable at the focus of the attention, he glanced up the slope toward Griffith.
'I can't say,' Infinity said. 'I don't know.'
'Satoshi, what do you mean when you say 'physical resistance'?' Thanthavong opened her strong, square hands.
'Bare hands against military weapons?'
'I had in mind civil disobedience, nonviolent resistance, like this meeting, but—we do need to consider what we'd do if . . .' He let his sentence trail off, unwilling to complete the comment.
'If we were invaded?' Thanthavong said.
'Gerald Hemminge.' Unlike the other speakers, he leaped to his feet, and he barely paused. 'You have gone from attending an illegal meeting to a discussion of fighting and invasions' Invasions? You are all conspiring against our own sponsors' Satoshi, who do you believe you're speaking to, revolutionaries and terrorists?'
At that, several people tned to speak at once.
Satoshi rose, folded his arms, and stood quietly looking at Gerald until the commotion died down. Beside him, Victoria prepared herself.
'I see nothing revolutionary,' Satoshi said, 'about wanting to do the job we were sent up here for.'
'Even if a more important job has developed back home?
We're needed. The ship is needed. None of you is willing to admit it, and I'm sick of you all. You forget—'The price of liberty is eternal vigilance.' '
'I'm sick of hearing that quote abused,' Satoshi said. 'Jefferson wasn't talking about the danger of foreign powers-even King George and the whole British Empire. He was talking about the danger of handing over our freedoms to a despot of our own!'
Gerald picked out Griffith at the top of the amphitheater.
'Did you hear that? He's called your president a despot!'
214 vonda N. Mclntyre
Griffith glanced around uncomfortably. 'I'm just an accountant,' he said.
Gerald made a noise of disgust. 'The chancellor sent me
here in the hopes of talking sense into you all. I see that I've
wasted my time.' He stalked out of the amphitheater.
'Nikolai Petrovich Cherenkov,' the cosmonaut said in the formal way of the meeting. He was only a few rows away from Griffith, who could not understand how he had missed him till now.
'I am your guest,' Cherenkov said. 'You have given me your hospitality and asked nothing in return. But now I must behave as a guest should not, and assume privileges that a guest does not possess. Your governments tell you that if you give up your ambitions and turn this starship into a watching and listening post, you will be benefiting the security of your countries and of the worid. They tell you that if you accede to these demands, you will be helping my country return to itself.' He paused.
Griffith tried to calm his own rapid heartbeat, but his usual control deserted him. He anticipated what Cherenkov would say. The cosmonaut would accept this chance to work against the people who had overwhelmed his country and sentenced him to death. He would speak to the meeting; he would bring everyone together in an agreement to evacuate the starship without resistance.
Cherenkov and his wisdom and his patriotism would give Griffith a spectacularly successful completion to his task.
'What your governments have told you is a lie,' Cherenkov said. 'Whether it is deliberate falsehood or ignorance, I will not speculate. But I tell you that outside the Mideast Sweep, nothing anyone can do will help anyone within it.'
Griffith clenched his fingers around the edge of the stone bench. He was shaking.
'The changes are coming,' Cherenkov said- 'But they must come from within, they must evolve- Evolution requires patience. The changes gather slowly, until they reach a level that cannot be held back. I tell you that if the rulers perceive danger from outside, they will find scapegoats within their own territory. You will only visit more death and more pain
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upon innocents. The changes will be eliminated and the evolution will cease.'
He waited to be questioned. No one spoke.
'Thank you for permitting a guest to speak,' he said. He slowly climbed the stairs. When he reached Griffith, he stopped.
Griffith gazed up at him, stunned and confused. The expression on Cherenkov's face, full of memories and grief, broke his heart.
'Come with me, Marion,' Kolya said. 'Neither of us has a place in this decision.'
Griffith had to push himself to his feet. Kolya took his elbow and helped him. They walked out of the tunnel. The darkness closed in around Griffith like an attack.
Griffith swung toward Cherenkov, his shoulders hunched and his fists clenched.
'How could you say that? I thought you, at least, would understand!' He fought to keep his voice steady. 'Do you want to go on the expedition so much that you can throw away your patriotism? Is your brain so bumed by cosmic rays that you've forgotten what the Sweep did to you back there, what they did to your family—' 'I do not permit anyone to speak of my family,' Cheren-kov said in a quiet voice that stopped Griffith short. 'And my memory of what happened to me is clear.'
'I'm sorry,' Griffith said. He could not recall the last time he had apologized to someone and meant it. 'But this is a chance to stop them!'
'It is not. I said what 1 said because it is true.'
'But—'
'Why are you so concerned, Marion, if you are nothing but an accountant?'
'I—' At the last moment he caught himself and kept himself from admitting his purpose. He turned away. 'I
