Anvil of Stars

Martin reported to Hans alone in his quarters. The vases and dead flowers had been removed, as well as the second pad. Hans lay in his net, arms behind his head, eyes closed tightly, wrinkles forming at their corners. “She’s got me in check,” he said gloomily. “I’m open to suggestions. Everything I’ve done this far has turned to shit. We don’t have time to set up a tribunal. We split tomorrow—and who’s going to take them? Kai had volunteered to go on the Trojan Horse.”

“And Terry Loblolly,” Martin added.

“We can get two to replace them, easily enough,” Hans said.

“They won’t work with me Brothers. They have to be isolated,” Martin said.

Hans looked at Martin with an expression Martin might once have characterized as shrewd, but now realized was defensive. Hans could not look frightened; it was not in his repertoire, hadn’t been since he was a child, since Earth’s death perhaps. What that took from all of us; bits of ourselves, our flexibility, our nature.

“I could resign,” Hans said. “I wish I could.”

“Jeanette would suggest that Rosa take your place,” Martin said.

“Then she could deal with herself. What would the moms do, I wonder? I mean, if we just stood down and refused to enact the Law. Would they drop us into space for being cowards?”

Martin didn’t answer.

“Is this what happened to the death ship? They just ate themselves up, no fight left for the enemy? Jesus, I didn’t expect this.”

The narrowed eyes, the shrewd expression; not just defensiveness, Martin saw. Hans seemed expectant.

“Whatever happens, it will have to be fast,” Hans said.

“You’re Pan,” Martin said.

Hans looked up at Martin and pulled himself from the net. “You’re telling me Pans do what they must,” he said. “I’m telling you, I’m open to suggestions.”

Paralysis.

“If you give up, Rosa wins.”

“Be a lot easier just to rush into her motherly arms, wouldn’t it?” Hans said, crossing his legs and flopping back on the pad. “Let it all go. Slick the Job. Slick the Law. Just grab for whatever youth we have left. Gott mit uns.” Hans gave him a fey smile. “You think I’m pretty ignorant, don’t you? Not nearly as well-read as you or Erin or Jennifer or Giacomo. But I’ve studied my share of history. Frankly, it’s depressing as all hell, Martin. Just one long series of blunders and recoveries from blunders. Blindness and death. Now it’s on a universal scale.”

“You’ve done some startling things since you’ve been Pan,” Martin said. “I know you’re not stupid.”

“That’s some satisfaction. Truth is, I feel I march in your shadow. The crew judges me against your standard. That’s why I asked you to be second when Rex wasn’t making the grade. So it’s good to know I can still surprise you.”

Martin shook his head. “We’re still not solving our problem,” he said.

“Time wounds all heels,” Hans said, his tone suddenly light. “One step at a time, am I right?”

“None of the planets around Leviathan seem affected by the explosion of Wormwood,” Giacomo said, “but if Trojan Horse doesn’t show some damage, I think they’ll have reason to be suspicious. We’ll come in broadcasting a distress signal.”

“On radio?” Hans asked.

“Why not?” Giacomo said. “We’re innocents, unseasoned voyagers, right?”

Hans grinned and acknowledged that much. “Will we use the noach to talk to each other?”

Giacomo looked to Jennifer, then to Martin. “I don’t see why not. Secretly, of course.”

“Noach can’t be detected between transmitter and receiver. No channel, right?” Jennifer said.

“The ships should be close enough part of the time,” Martin said.

Giacomo projected the orbits of the three vessels. “Shrike will be out of touch with Trojan Horse, beyond the ten-billion-kilometer range, for about four tendays, just when Trojan Horse goes into orbit around the green world. Greyhound and Trojan Horse will be out of touch for about a month, unless we arrange for a remote to act as relay.”

“That can be arranged,” Hakim said. “But it increases our chances of being detected.”

“Otherwise, no transmissions of any kind. Complete silence.”

Paola stepped forward at Martin’s encouragement. She looked nervously between him and Hans. “Paola has the crew assignments,” Martin said.

Paola projected the roster for each vehicle. “Twice Grown and I worked through our crew lists and picked out the best combinations. Where we couldn’t decide, we did a kind of lottery. The list is subject to approval by Hans and Stonemaker, of course.”

“Rosa and her group?” Hans asked.

“I’ve put them on inactive within Greyhound,” Paola said. “I talked with Rosa. She didn’t agree or disagree.”

Hans shook his head. “We’re treating her like another head of state.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to do,” Paola said tremulously.

Hans crinkled his face in irritation. “Forget it. Not your fault. I just don’t like her thinking she has any say in what we do. She and her group go where we put her, that’s it. We may need to put together a little police force if they try civil disobedience.”

Brief silence.

“Who’s on the pleasure cruise?” Martin asked, hoping to distract them from the unpleasantness.

Paola projected the list.

Ten humans and ten Brothers had been assigned to Trojan Horse: Martin, Ariel, Paola, Hakim, Cham, Erin, George Dempsey, Donna Emerald Sea, Andrew Jaguar, and Jennifer. Twice Grown, Eye on Sky, Dry Skin/Norman, Silken Parts, Green Cord, Double Twist, Many Smells, Sharp Seeing, Strong Cord, and Scoots Fast were on the Brothers’ list.

Hans would be on Greyhound, Stonemaker on Shrike. The preponderance of humans would be on Greyhound with Hans; Brothers, on Shrike. Paola projected these lists as well.

“I approve, for now,” Hans said after running his fingers down the names as they hung in the air. “I’ll need time to think about it. Everybody out. Martin, you stay.”

After the others had left, they went over the list name by name. Hans voiced his concerns about suitability; Martin tried to answer as best he could.

“You and Cham on the same ship—two past Pans. Can you work with each other?”

“I’ve had nothing but support from Cham,” Martin said.

“Can you all work with Eye on Sky?”

“The Brothers aren’t hard to get along with,” Martin said. “You know that.”

“Pardon my nerves. Ariel?”

Martin cocked his head to one side. “She’s changed.”

“I’ve noticed. She’s gone sugar on you, Martin.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You should take advantage. She’s smart, a good fighter, she has a strong instinct for survival. You could do worse. You slicked Paola once, I hear…”

Martin tried to keep his expression passive. Hans smiled as if scoring a point.

“Paola’s not for you, believe me.”

“I never thought she was. We comforted each other.”

Hans pushed his lips out. “Right,” he said. “If I were you—and I won’t repeat this again—I’d take up with Ariel, even if she did shovel you shit when you were Pan.”

Martin looked away stonily.

“All right. Sometimes you’re a stubborn bastard, but that’s okay. Anybody here you think will give you