Saturn

“Zeal is no sin,” Morgenthau said, “when you’re doing God’s work.”

Eberly said, “Just follow my orders, do your work well, and you won’t have to worry about being shipped back to Rwanda once we’ve arrived at Saturn.”

Kananga nodded wordlessly.

When she received Cardenas’s request, Holly raced from her desk to find Eberly. He was in the office complex’s cafeteria, sitting with Morgenthau and a lean, skeletally thin man whose complexion was darker than her own, the nearly purple black of the true African. They were deep in an intense discussion, their heads leaning forward like conspirators.

Holly scurried up to their table and stood at Eberly’s elbow. None of them paid any attention to her. They continued to talk in hushed, confidential tones, too low for Holly to hear their words over the clatter and conversations that clanged off the bare walls of the busy cafeteria.

She waited several moments, fidgeting impatiently, then broke into their tête-à-tête with, “Excuse me! Malcolm, I hate to interrupt but—”

Eberly looked up sharply at her, clear displeasure in his piercing eyes.

“I’m sorry, Malcolm, but it’s important.”

He took a breath, then said, “What is important enough to intrude in my discussion?”

“Dr. Cardenas wants to join us!”

“Cardenas?” asked Morgenthau.

“Kristin Cardenas,” Holly said, gri

Eberly seemed less than pleased. “Do we need an expert in nanotechnology?”

“That’s a dangerous area,” said the black man. His scalp was shaved bald, Holly saw, although there was a fringe of a beard outlining his jawline.

“It’s outlawed on Earth,” Morgenthau agreed, adding a muttered, “Unholy.”

Holly was surprised at their obtuseness. “Nanotech could be really helpful to us. We could use nanomachines to do most of the habitat’s maintenance work. And healthwise, nanomachines could—”

Eberly stopped her with an upraised finger. “Nanomachines are outlawed on Earth because they could run wild and devour everything in their path.”

“Turn everything into gray goo,” Morgenthau muttered.

“Only if somebody programs ’em to do that,” Holly countered. “Those flatlanders back Earthside are scared of terrorists or nutcases going wild with nanomachines.”

Morgenthau glared at her but said nothing.

“Shouldn’t we be concerned about that, as well?” Eberly asked mildly.

“We’ve screened everybody aboard,” Holly said. “We don’t have any violent types here. No fanatics.”

“How can we be sure of that?” Morgenthau was obviously unconvinced.

Looking at Eberly, the black man said slowly, “Properly used, nanomachines could be of great help to us.”

Eberly stared back at him for a long moment. “You believe so?”

“I do.”

“Would Dr. Cardenas agree to work under our terms, I wonder?” Eberly mused.

“We could ask her and find out,” Holly prompted. “She’s on Ceres now. We could pick her up when we go through the Belt. I checked the flight plan; we’ll be within a day’s flight of Ceres. She could buzz out to us on a torch ship, no prob. I could get my sister to set up a flight for her, betcha.”

Eberly stroked his chin. “Even though we have a full compliment now, I suppose we could make room for one person of Dr. Cardenas’s caliber.”

“If Wilmot approves of it,” said Morgenthau.

“Wilmot.” Eberly almost sneered. “I’m in charge of human resources decisions, not Wilmot.”

“But something like this—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he insisted. Turning to Holly, he said, “Inform Dr. Cardenas that I would like to discuss this with her personally.”

“Cosmic!” Holly blurted.

She was about to turn and head back to the human resources office when Eberly grasped her wrist.

“You haven’t met Colonel Kananga, have you?”

The black man got to his feet like a jointed scaffolding unfolding. He was almost two meters tall, a full head taller than Holly.

“Our director of security, Colonel Leo Kananga, from Rwanda,” said Eberly. “Holly Lane, from Selene.”

Kananga extended his hand. Holly took it in hers. His long fingers felt cold and dry. His grip was strong, almost painful.

Kananga smiled at her, but there was no warmth in it. Just the opposite. Holly felt an icy shudder run down her spine. It was like looking at a skull, a death’s head.

DEPARTURE PLUS 145 DAYS

As she climbed the stairs to the roof of the administration building, Holly wondered why Eberly had summoned her to the rooftop. She stepped through the metal door and looked for him. No one else was there. She walked to within two steps of the roof’s edge and turned full circle. She was alone.

He’s always so prompt, she thought. Why isn’t he here?

Then she realized that she was more than a minute early, and she relaxed somewhat. He’ll be here, she told herself, right on the tick.

Gazing out from the three story-high roof, Holly could see the other buildings of the village, low and gleaming white in the sunlight. The long slash of the solar window overhead was too bright to look at for more than a momentary glimpse. Even so, the after image of its glare burned in her eyes.

Everything is going well, Holly thought. The habitat is functioning smoothly, everybody doing their jobs as they should. Some trouble with one of the solar mirrors a few days ago, but the maintenance crew went out in spacesuits and fixed it. Now it was swiveling properly again, keeping sunlight streaming through the long windows while the habitat rotated along its axis.

We need sunshine, Holly thought. No matter where we go, no matter how far from Earth we travel, human beings need sunshine. It’s more than simple biology, more than the need for green plants at the foundation of the food chain. Sunlight makes us happy, drives away depression. Must be awful back Earthside when they have clouds and storms and they don’t see the Sun for days and days. No wonder the flatlanders are a little crazy.

She glanced at her wrist again. He’ll be here, she told herself. He’s always on time. Why’s he want to see me up here, though? Just the two of us. She felt a nervous thrill race through her. Just the two of us.

Maybe he feels about me the way I feel about him. Maybe just a little, but -

“There you are.”

She whirled and focused her attention on Eberly, who was walking slowly across the rooftop’s slightly rubbery surface toward her. He really is handsome, she saw. So full of energy. But he ought to dress better, Holly thought, scrutinizing the baggy gray slacks and darker shapeless tunic that hung a size or so too big from his shoulders.

“I wanted to have a word with you outside the office,” he said as he stopped an arm’s length from her.

“Sure, Malcolm.” She had to make a conscious effort to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“There are too many listening ears down there,” he went on, “and what I have to say is for you only.”

“What is it?” she asked, trembling.

He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting to find someone hiding behind him.

Turning back to Holly, he said, “I see from your reports that you are ready to launch the naming contests.”

Business, Holly realized, crestfallen. He wants to talk about business.

“You are ready, aren’t you?” he asked, oblivious to her letdown.

“Right,” she said, thinking, Nothing but business. I don’t really mean a thing to him.

“You’ve set up the rules for each contest?”

Holly nodded. “It was pretty easy, f’real. And I think that using a lottery to pick the committees for judging each individual contest is the best way to go.”

“I agree,” Eberly said. “You’ve done a fine job.”

“Thanks, Malcolm,” she said glumly.

“I’ll have to get Wilmot’s approval, and then we can launch the contests. I should be able to make the a