Divergence

—Into the Enemy Domain, I expect. That’s where everyone runs when they want to get away from you.

—That’s where you think you are building a resistance, the Watcher replied. —It won’t succeed, Chris.

—That’s where you have built your ziggurat, replied Chris. —Don’t think that I don’t know about your plans, too.

The silence that followed this revelation lasted weeks. It was eventually broken by the stir of newspaper in the wind in a street in Amsterdam.

—Still, Judy has gone, the Watcher said.

—She’ll be back, Chris said. —Someday she will return to me. Someday she will see my point of

view.

maurice 3: 2252

Saskia cameinto Maurice’s room without waiting for an invitation.

“I think you should come to the conference room,” she urged. “We’ve found something unusual.”

Maurice put down the sandwich he had been eating and wiped his hands carefully on a linen napkin. Saskia looked different, somehow. She was tense, but there was nothing unusual in that. He gave a little snort of laughter. Maybe she had just found something new to be tense about.

“Couldn’t you just have patched me through using a viewing field?” He stood up and stretched. Tuesday had been a long day. They had arrived at the location given them by the Free Enterprise, but there had been no sign of the Bailero, their promised payment for taking Judy to Earth. The ensuing search had done nothing for anyone’s temper, particularly with the Petersburg ’s warnings as to the danger of this region still ringing in their ears.

Then there had been the totally bizarre events that afternoon when the active suits had suddenly broken free from the crates in the small hold and started marching through the ship, looking for all the world like a drunken mob of pajamas, searching for somewhere to store themselves. They had marched up and down the corridors, badly frightening Miss Rose, until Edward, of all people, had thought of showing them through to the lockers near the living area.

By the evening Saskia had become so edgy that Maurice had chosen to take his meal to his own room. Anything to avoid the tension that had built up yet again in the ship’s communal areas.

“What?” he said, noting the way Saskia was scowling at his black passive suit.

“Since when did you wear black?” she asked. “Trying to be like Judy now, are we?” She let her hair drop forward over her eyes and continued in her quiet voice, “Look, we all need to be together to discuss this. It’s…odd. Come on.”

She walked to the door and from there took a long look around Maurice’s neatly ordered quarters.

“I’ve never been in here before,” she said hesitantly. “You’ve got so many things.”

She placed a hand on one of several carbon-bladed knives that were displayed on a shelf near the door, then glanced up at the 3D pictures of venumbs that were hung on the wall above them, all bright and alive. She gazed at the red thorns and rich dark bark, examined the silver metal joints. She did look different, thought Maurice, but why?

Suddenly, she looked as though she remembered why she was there. “Come on,” she repeated, and walked from the room.

Edward sat in the conference room, his hands covering his face, his feet on his chair so that his knees were drawn up to his chest.

“I don’t like them,” he said.

“Don’t be silly,” snapped Saskia, striding into the room.

“That’s not going to calm him down, is it?” said Judy, quite reasonably. She placed a reassuring hand on the big man’s shoulder and said something softly that Maurice couldn’t hear. The cause of Edward’s distress could be seen floating in a viewing field above the table.