Achmed Crown Niger had had his final answer from Earth.

“Insanity,” Leander muttered.

But I knew better. It all made horrible sense. It was a pattern as old as time: the display of baboon’s asses. If the ritual was not perfectly observed, and one did not back down, the baboons squared off and bared their fangs. If that did not do the trick, they fought to kill.

The satellite image blanked abruptly.

“Loss of signal,” Aelita said.

Charles stood beside the white cylinder that held the planetary tweaker. Stooped, long-fingered hands hanging by his side, his eyes burned below brows drawn together in eternal concentration. Around him, the support equipment for the largest of all our tweakers sat ready.

Tamara Kwang lay quietly on a couch nearby. She had been prepped for her backup role.

Thirty of the station’s senior staff gathered in the auditorium beside the tweaker chamber, awaiting my instructions. Charles watched us with inhuman patience through the broad plastic window.

No one raised any objection when Leander referred to me as President.

My statement to the assembly was brief. “We can’t remain in the Solar System and survive. We have to do what we brought all of you here to do. The sooner the better. Charles tells me he’s ready. Stephen confirms.”

The thirty sat in stunned silence for several moments. Dr. Wachsler stood and glanced around, hands held out. “We are making a decision for all of Mars,” he said. “In effect, we represent all of Mars. Surely we…” He choked and held his hands higher, voice rising. “Surely there must be some confirmation, some…”

“We will die if we do not act,” I said. My hands shook with a perverse excitement. I wanted Wachsler to challenge me; I wanted any and all challenges now. My bones were knitting; I could feel them. Medical nano filled my bloodstream, rooting out problems, controlling my tendency to slip into shock. I felt strong as a lion, but knew I was still very weak.

“Dr. Abdi hasn’t finished his areological survey,” Wachsler said.

Abdi stood, hands in pockets, shrugged, and sat again. “I have not, indeed,” he said.

“We should vote,” called out Jackson Hergesheimer, the astronomer. “We know what happened on the last trip. What happened to Galena . If we’re going to choose suicide over murder, we should be allowed to vote.”

“No vote,” I said wearily.

“Why not?” Hergesheimer called out. “We’re citizens of the Republic — the only citizens who can respond to you!”

“There will be no vote,” I said.

“Then you are no longer President of this Republic, even if you… even if you might legally…” Words failed him.

“I take this upon my own shoulders,” I said.

“You order our suicide!” Wachsler cried.

Dandy Breaker, sitting at the back, had had enough. He rose, hand held high, and I gave him permission to speak with a nod. “I might point out the strict legality, under the laws of the Republic, of President Majumdar’s position. This is an emergency. The only defensive course of action open to us is retreat. At her instruction, I have declared a state of martial law and broadcast it over Mars.”

“Nobody can hear or object!” Wachsler said, tears of rage rolling down his cheeks. His hands moved like two birds, up and down, fingers fluttering. “My God, this is the most horrifying kind of tyranny.”

“I take responsibility,” I said. My voice sounded dull and hollow, even in my own ears.

“Madam President,” Leander said, “perhaps we should take an informal vote. Just to be certain.”

“We should discuss the option of declaring war,” Hergesheimer said. “What they’re doing is an outrage, and we should defend ourselves, if not with a moon, then by using conversion on their cities, their lands!”

“No,” I said. “That is not an option, if we have any other choice. We do.” I had long ago taken my own personal stand against striking back at Earth. “If anyone wishes to depose me, or petition for my ouster at this time, or do whatever the law allows… or doesn’t allow… let it be done now, and hurry, please.”

I wondered whether we were going to lose all control, whether I had pushed too hard and spoken too strongly. Leander was about to speak when the floor of the auditorium shook. Aelita called up a series of images from the cameras atop the station. The horrid gray curtain unfurled over northern Kaibab, whirling debris clearly visible in the electric blue corona, dust churning at its feet.

“It’s on the plateau, about fifty kilometers away,” Aelita said.

All in the auditorium watched, some weeping. Several jumped from their seats and fled.

“The rest is simply fear,” I said. “We know. For us there are no corners to be backed into… unless we give in to our fear. Then we will die. Let us do what we built Preamble to do.”

Charles entered the auditorium from the main lab space, moving slowly and uncertainly. His presence seemed to spook the staff members in the first two rows of seats. They drew their knees up and away from him, staring like frightened children.

“QL is ready,” he said. “The interpreter is ready. So am I.”

The image of our coming doom hung over us at several points around the auditorium. The floor vibrated as if pounded by a herd of huge animals. Charles stared at the images, then said, barely audible, “It’s a one-in-a-trillion conversion. If they ramp it by a factor of ten, and they can, they could take the entire plateau at once.”

“Let’s do it,” I said. I could barely make myself heard above the horrendous rockborne howl of matter coming to pieces.

Dandy walked stiffly down the side aisle. “Madam President,” he boomed, his formality absurd under the circumstances, “You must give a direct and unambiguous order.”

“By authority of the office of President, I order that we immediately move Mars to the chosen orbit around the New System.”

“It doesn’t even have a name!” Wachsler cried.

“Order so recorded,” Dandy shouted, holding up his slate. He glared at the audience, daring anyone to voice another challenge.

Wachsler shook his head, speechless. Hergesheimer collapsed in his seat, mumbling unheard.

Charles turned and left the auditorium. Leander and I followed. Most of the staffers in the auditorium stayed in their seats or moved closer to the separating glass wall, like observers at an old-fashioned execution.

Charles sat on the edge of a couch beside the main tweaker. “I’ll need some help with these,” he said, lifting one hand to point to the larger array of optic cables. Stephen and I helped him attach the cables, and Charles lay back on the couch. “I’ll be the only one in the loop to the QL,” he said. “But others can observe. It would be easier if I can talk with people while it’s happening. I’ll feel more real. And if those people are seeing some of what’s happening, with me…”

“I’ll observe,” I said.

Charles pointed to a smaller couch on the other side of the thinker platform. “I hope you’ll be comfortable,” he said.

I sat on the couch. “Do I need… ?” I pointed to the cables attached to the base of his neck.

“No. No feedback required. Standard image projection, or immersion. Immersion should really be something.”

I swallowed. “Immersion, then.”

“I appreciate this, Casseia,” Charles said. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat, jaw clenching, relaxing.

“Least I can do,” I said.

“It’s our only choice,” Charles said. “We have to leave. I know that. You’ve made a courageous decision.”

I followed Leander with my eyes as he prepared for my immersion. A few narrow bands around my head, projectors from a modified slate, a few slim optical connections between slate and interpreter, and I experienced a comfortable floating sensation, neural chitchat in the far background.