I frowned. “Grew out of despair?”

“Grew out of necessity. No turning back to old ways — no one could afford to. There was no longer profit in destruction. The great god Mammon became a god of peace. And that is when we looked outward — and made the beginnings of the settled Moon and Mars and the outer small worlds. People were able to see more clearly.”

“But you’re still arguing,” I said, and bit my lip gently, hoping to give the impression that my naivete now lay naked on the table before them. Bithras was teaching me the art of lapwing — faking confusion or weakness for advantage.

“I hope not to speak for everyone on Earth, of course!” Paul said, laughing. “To argue is not to hate, not for healthy minds. Our opponents are prized. They goad us to greater accomplishment. If we are defeated, we know that there are other wars to be fought, wars without blood, wars of intellect and of many possible outcomes, not just defeat or victory.”

“And if you argue with Mars?” I asked, putting on a mask of provincial anxiety. “If we disagree?”

“We are fearful opponents,” Paul admitted. Renna seemed less happy with that answer.

“What is good for all, is good for Earth,” she said. She touched my hand. “On Earth, there is so much variety, so much possibility for growth and change, so much, as you say, argument, but if you track the politics, the responses of peoples wherever they may live, there are astonishing agreements on major goals.”

Goals. The word rang like a bell. Alice , you are so right.

“Such as?”

“Well,” Renna said, “we cannot afford to lack discipline. The universe is not so friendly. Weaknesses and weak links — ”

“Such as Mars,” I said.

Renna’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps I was laying it on too thick. “We must act together for the common goals of all the human worlds.”

“What are we to unite against?”

“Not against, but for. For the next push — to migrate to the stars. There are worlds enough for all who disagree to try great experiments, make great strides… But we will not achieve them if we are separate now, and lacking discipline.”

“What if our goals don’t coincide?” I asked.

“All things change,” Renna said.

“Whose goals should change?”

“That’s what the debate is about.”

“And if debate isn’t enough? Debate can grind on forever,” I said.

‘True, there isn’t always the luxury of unlimited time.“

“If debate has to be cut off,” I said, “who does the cutting?”

Renna looked at me shrewdly. She was enjoying herself, but I had to ask, despite all their obvious sophistication, despite their time on Mars, did they truly understand how a Martian felt? “When a society can’t do the good drive, as Orianna might say — when it refuses its responsibilities — then other means must be tried.”

“Force?” I asked.

“Renna dearly loves to debate,” Paul said confidentially to Allen. “This ship has been too quiet, too polite.”

“Where Mars and Earth cannot agree, there is always room for growth and discussion,” Renna concluded, staring at me in an entirely friendly and expectant way. “Force is an old habit I do not approve of.” She obviously wanted me to counter, but something had cut deep and I did not wish to oblige her. I gave a cool smile, inclined, and tapped my plate to signal the arbeiter I was finished.

“We sometimes forget the sensibilities of others, in our enthusiasm” Paul said warily.

“It’s nothing,” Allen said. “We’ll pick up the discussion later.”

Bithras had a lot on his mind. His behavior was exemplary. He seemed more a concerned blood uncle than a boss; sometimes a teacher, sometimes a fellow student working with Allen and me to riddle the puzzles of Earth. Never the sacred monster my mother had described.

His transition, in the middle of our sixth month, came abruptly enough to catch me completely off guard. Bithras called me to his cabin for consultation. He had taken to wearing tennis togs again, and as I came in, he sat in his white cotton shirt and shorts, legs pushed against the opposite wall, slate on his lap.

“A lot of tension on Mars this week,” he said.

“I haven’t seen anything in the LitVids,” I said casually.

“Of course not,” he said with a twitch of his mouth. “I wouldn’t expect it to get that far. Not yet. Two BMs have decided to make their own proposals for unification.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Mukhtiar and Pong.”

“Not top five…” I asked.

“And not likely to attract any attention… on Earth. But I made a lot of concessions and forced a lot of favors to carry our proposal to Earth. Some people who are nervous are much more nervous now. If I am undercut, if someone decides to mount a strong campaign across Mars before we arrive… concessions to Earth, sellouts…” He lifted his hand and squinted at me. “Not fun. I worry about Cailetet. They seem to believe they have extra cards in the game.”

I shook my head in sympathy. He leaned back a few more centimeters and looked me over. “What have you learned from the Terries?”

“A lot, I think.”

“Do you know that Terries have been increasing the average age for first sexual experience for the last thirty years, and that more and more of them never have physical sex at all, up to ten percent now?” He squinted skeptically, as if mounting a speculation.

“I’ve heard that,” I said.

“Some people marry and have sex only in sims.”

I had been so calmed by his straight and narrow behavior for so many weeks that even now I suspected nothing.

“There have been marriages between thinkers and humans. Marriages physically celibate but mentally promiscuous. People who have children without having sex and without giving birth. Marvels and frights to a red rabbit.”

“We have ex utero babies on Mars,” I said quietly, wondering what he was up to.

“I prefer the old fashioned way,” he said, fixing his round black eyes on me. “There has been damned little of that this voyage. All work. You have not been very romantically adventurous either, I notice.”

Signals of caution finally broke through. I didn’t answer, just shrugged, hoping my uncomfortable silence would be enough to deflect the course of the conversation.

“We will be working together for many months.”

“Right,” I said.

“Is it possible to be completely comfortable together, working for so long?”

“We’ll have to be,” I said. “We’ll be red rabbits among the Terries.”

He nodded emphatically. “Among very strange and high-powered people. It will cause tensions far worse than what I feel now, going over these recent messages. We’re in a war of nerves, Casseia, and we might enjoy — mutually — a place of retreat… from the war.”

“I’d like to read the messages,” I said.

“I would not feel comfortable taking solace from a Terrie woman.”

“I’m not sure this is — ”

He pushed on with a little shake of his head. “What if I work very hard on a temporary relationship, and it can be only that, and discover the woman from Earth wants me to have sex only in sim?” He stared at me incredulously.

Angering by slow degrees, I kept in mind my mother’s admonition: be clever, be witty. I felt neither clever nor witty but I did not yet ramp to complete indignation.

“I like to resolve difficulties, make arrangements, early,” Bithras said. He reached up and stroked my arm, quickly moving to grip my shoulder. He let go of my shoulder and ran a finger lightly on the fabric centimeters above my breast. “You are much more… to me.”

“Within the family?”

“That is not an obstacle.”

“Oh,” I said. “An arrangement of convenience.”

“Much more than that. We may both focus on our work, having this resolved.”

“A stronger relationship.”

“Certainly,” Bithras said.

Delicately, I pushed back his arm.

“What you’re saying is, we should start our family now, right?” I said cheerily.