Precursor

He was a translator, a maker of dictionaries, who had had to learn far more about physics and engineering than he had ever pla

“I find this very interesting,” he said. He utterly forgave the tone. “Go on.”

“Joint effort, joint development.”

“An atevi-Mospheiran company,” Tom Lund said. “Manufacturing these things.”

“Still interesting” Bren said. He’d envisioned shielding, to protect atevi operators. But shielding meant mass, and it became another worm-swallowing-its-tail situation: fuel to run the miners that gathered the fuel. Removing all that mass from the equation—atevi, shielding and the lifesupport—meant fuel savings, but the same problem held true, as Kroger had pointed out, if robotic equipment ate up all its profits in repairs. If their proposed space industry ever entered diminishing returns, the situation could become again what drove colonists off the station and onto the planet, when Phoenixhad drunk up all the fuel, all the resources, all that the colonists could do, because the captains of that long ago day had believed they could go off and find the earth of humans.

A lot of history had happened since then. The captains that had come back were dealing with a planetary population and an industry base that was capable. Capable not only of the manufacturing the Guild knew it wanted, but of analyzing what went wrong the first time and doing it right the second.

The solar system had proved capable of delivering nasty surprises, he’d known that from the incomplete records. He’d known, when he came to propose the atevi as miners, that those nasty surprises were a problem needing a solution. Howextensive a problem, he’d had to wait for those archived records to determine.

Astronomical observation, the tracking of celestial objects, had been lacking for several centuries among the atevi: astronomy having become a science in disgrace since the astronomers had failed to predict the Foreign Star in their skies. Even with the new revolution in the field, with the Astronomer Emeritus and his work, atevi were stillunaware of cosmic debris that didn’t make a

The Mospheirans had been even less curious about the lethal environment from which they’d escaped. The region of the solar system where they had to work to supply Phoenixand the station, let alone this new ship the captains wanted, was unmapped except in historical records he hoped were in that download.

He had expected bad news from those records and the initial surveys; but this… this robotics development… was an interesting piece of information from outside his domain.

He began to see much more accurately what they were up against.

He began to see all his proposals as achievable.

Still, she had raised questions… questions that definitely touched on his realm of expertise.

“You’re saying it was a political consideration that killed the robots.”

“Political and practical,” Kroger said. “Political, because ma

“Is there proof of that?”

“It’s my own suspicion,” Kroger said, “and there’s no proof. But I don’t think there were saints on either side. There was some reasonthe colonists didn’t push for robotic development when they were dying left and right; there was some reasonleadership didn’t press for a delay of the ship fueling and a rearrangement of priorities, to get robots that worked. Possibly it was simple ignorance. Possibly it was ideological blindness. We’ve seen a bit of that in our generation. The fact was, the radicals among the colonists suspected everythingthe Guild proposed, by that point in time. If the Guild proposed it, there must be an ulterior motive. And the radicals were in charge. As long as their people kept dying at a sustainable rate, the anger of the colonists kept them going.”

“I don’t like to think so,” Bren said, “but I’ve no way to deny your thesis.”

“It could have been done,” Kroger said. “And they didn’t do it. The political pressure for a landing built and built.”

“The question is” Bren said, “whether the robots weren’t built because they couldn’twork, or whether you’re right. I’d hope there’s a third answer. I really hope there’s a third answer, that we can’t have been that venal.”

“Both factions had a greater good at issue,” Kroger said. “Both factions thought they were right, that if they gave in on one point, they’d erode all they had. Desperate, suspicious times. Both sides thought they allwould die if they didn’t have their way. Robots. Common damned sense, Mr. Cameron!”

“And a joint company,” Lund said. “Your large-scale engineering, our electronics, our control devices.”

“I see no difficulty in agreement,” Bren said. “I see no difficulty at all.” His own people had a plan, buried deep within the departments of the government, but, thank God, a plan, and a viable one. He was for the first time in a decade proudto be Mospheiran. “Can you deliver it?”

Kroger let go a long, shaky breath. “Mr. Cameron, seventeen of us have spent our careersassuring we can deliver it. We knowthe metallurgy—and damned hard that’s been to develop with all the materials having to be imported from the mainland—but damn, we’ve doneit. For the robotics, the specific designs… that was a problem. The records had been lost. We just got those records, Mr. Cameron.”

“If the archive shouldhave those plans,” Bren began, and Kroger lowered her fist onto the table.

“The archive doeshave them, Cameron. It does. I looked. I knew what the files ought to be, where they ought to be. I’ve worked my whole lifearound that hole in the records, and believe me I know where to look in the archive.”

Her whole life… was that merely a figure of speech?”

How long? Bren wondered with a nervous and sudden chill. How long had Kroger been working on this notion? More than three years back threw her into the whole pro-space movement, which had its roots in the Heritage Party, Gaylord Hanks’ party, with all its anti-atevi sentiment.

But that didn’t mean everyone who’d ever taken that route because it was the only route for pro-spacers was automatically Gaylord Hanks’ soulmate. Their proposal, just voiced, was a pro-space proposal, but it wasn’t anti-atevi. That the Heritage Party might have drawn in the honest and sensible, the dreamers with a willingness to ignore the darker side of their associations… it was possible.

Kroger, whatever else, was not a fool. She sat enjoying supper in an atevi household and proposing, with Lund, cooperation. Proposing a program that would save atevi lives if the aiji undertook the rough part of the operation. Proposing to better what he’d envisioned and give her benefit to the project.

“I thought you might be Hanks’ partisan,” he said. “And I don’t think you are. I think you’re an honest negotiator, Ms. Kroger. Dr. Kroger. Mr. Lund, the same. I think this might be entirely viable.”

Kroger said: “Damn Gaylord Hanks, Mr. Cameron. No fewof us damn Gaylord Hanks.”

“Damn Gaylord Hanks?” Lund said, with a sudden, cheerful smile. Kroger had somewhat neglected her main course in the passion of argument, but Lund had demolished his, looking up sharply now and again, clearly paying attention. “I knowGaylord Hanks. I’ve known him since school days, and now a lot of people know him. The Heritage Party has another wing, I’m glad to say, and Hanks can take a rowboat north for what most of us think.”