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behavior. Maybe then they would have been better prepared for it. But the
glow of optimism and cooperative spirit led them to the tacit, naive
assumption that every problem could be solved by talking about it, by the
meetings they held to discuss other sorts of problems.
The faculty and staff had agreed to continue the deep space expedition,
in defiance of orders from EarthSpace, at a meeting. They had held a
meeting to decide whether to go after Europa and Androgeos.
"I'm worried about you," Infinity said.
Jenny looked directly at him, gazing at him intently. Always before,
until he broke up the mob she created, she had glanced at him briefly,
dismissing him. People liked to pretend Starfarer had no hierarchy, but
it did. And the hierarchy separated a millionaire solar sail designer
from a gardener by quite a distance.
"You are remarkable," she said.
He looked away, embarrassed. He did not like to stand out. He was not
sure he wanted to know exactly what she meant. She probably did not mean
what she said as a compliment.
"Feral shouldn't have died," she said.
"Nobody should have died."
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METAPHASE 127
"I mean-if anyone died, it should have been me. A sacrifice to Artemis,
to the wind. Maybe that's why Blades directed his sabotage toward me."
"A sacrifice?" Infinity said.
"Yes. My namesake escaped, but the gods always take their due, in the
end-don't you know your mythology?"
"That isn't my mythology," Infinity said.
"Oh," Jenny said. "No, I suppose not. I'm sorry."
"If you want to know about Amaterasu, or Coyote . . ." Infinity shrugged.
"But not lphigenia."
"Her father was supposed to sacrifice her to Artemis, for a favorable
wind. She escaped. Artemis waited. I escaped. Artemis tired of waiting.
She took my young wild friend instead."
"Everybody feels lousy about what happened to Feral," Infinity said. "But
if any one of a dozen things had happened differently, he'd be okay."
"Blades is responsible." Her eyelids flickered as she cut off her
conversation with Infinity to communicate with Arachne.
The faint perception of a small spot of heat told Infinity he, too, had
a new message. It was Jenny9s meeting proposal, broadcast through Arachne
to everyone on board.
Infinity did not add his second. He thought things would be just fine the
way they were. For as long as it took Starfarer to be able to return
home. Then the legal system could deal with Chancellor Blades.
On the other hand, it was just as likely that the United States would
give the chancellor a medal and arrest everyone else as hijackers and
terrorists. Maybe Jenny wanted to be certain of some justice, or revenge.
Infinity still did not want Blades prosecuted here. The memory of the mob
stayed with him. His friends and acquaintances had put on unrecognizable
masks of anger. He did not want to see that again.
He stood up.
"Are you okay? Do you need any help?"
"No," Jenny said.
128 VONDA N. McINTYRE
"Then goodbye, I guess."
He left her sitting among the rocks, and continued on to the administration
building.
As soon as J.D. ended the discussion group, Nikolai Petrovich Cherenkov
slipped away from the clump of people and fled to the nearest access hatch.
He had not been able to resist listening to J.D. as long as she would talk
about Nemo. But the press of people made him uncomfortable and nervous.
Kolya climbed down the ladder, past ground level, into Starfarer's skin.
He strode along the dim, coolsmelling corridor, toward the nearest
elevator.
Until he reached the safety of the elevator cage, he expected at every
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second to see Griffith behind him, hurrying to catch up. He was sick to
death of Griffith's following him around, trying to worship him.
He was rather surprised to have escaped Griffith. He would probably be
pleased with himself, if he did not feel so dreadful.
He had not had a cigarette in two days, and he was at the height of
nicotine withdrawal.
The elevator slowed and stopped and the floor settled beneath his feet:
Kolya perceived gravity as pulling backwards against him, then sliding down
to settle in the proper place.
Does anyone ever get used to the sensation of riding an elevator inside a
rotating space station? Kolya wondered. I've lived in space longer than
anyone, and I never have.
He put on his spacesuit, entered the airlock, and climbed down through the
outer shell of Starfarer's campus cylinder. The airlock opened. He climbed
down onto the inspection net.
Starfarer loomed over him; the stars spun beneath his feet. The motion of
the cylinder took him through darkness, into the hot white light of Sirius,
and back into shadow as he plunged into the cleft between the campus
cylinder and its twin, the wild side. On the far edge of
METAPHASE 129
the valley, he burst into the light reflected by the solar sail. If he
looked in just the right place he could see the bright crescent of Nerno's
starship, tagging along with Starfarer toward transition.
Kolya eased himself down onto the cables of the inspection web, grateful
to be back out in space. He had spent too much time with other people
lately, too much energy trying to understand them. They admired him for
reasons that had very little to do with him and much more to do with
situations in which he had found himself by chance and luck.
Usually bad luck, he said to himself.
It felt good to be alone. He looked forward to reclaiming his hermit
status, now that the controversy was over and Starfarer was safe in the
hands of people who would use it for its true calling.
Infinity ducked through the hole in the front door of the administration
building. The door had not yet been repaired. When Chancellor Blades
locked himself inside, the silver slugs, the lithoclasts that dissolved
rock, had munched their way through the wood-finished rock foam.
The trail of the slugs led through the wide foyer and up the curving
stairs to Blades's office. They had eaten through his door, and herded
him through the underground tunnels to his house.
But the ASes and the mobile Als would not be on the upper floors. The
only place big enough for them all was the basement.
Infinity went through the building to the back stairs. The halls were
cold and deserted.
"Lights on," he said, and the stairwell brimmed with light.
In the basement, hundreds of small robots hunkered together in a random
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pattern, motionless and silent, like paralyzed hands and blinded eyes.
Infinity blew out his breath in relief. The chancellor could have
destroyed all the mobiles while he was
130 VONDA N. McINTYRE
locked in with them. They were sturdy, but they were not designed to stand
up to deliberate abuse.
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