“We could throw stuff at them,” she said. “I think the assumption when the first interstellars left home, in the last century, was that we wouldn’t run into hostiles. Even after our experience with the clouds, nobody takes the possibility seriously. I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard the word used in an official directive.”

“You know,” Eric said, “Hutch tells us to maintain a safe distance. We’ve just watched that thing change the course of an asteroid that’s two kilometers long. You say we couldn’t do anything like that?”

“Not to that degree, and certainly not in that short a time.”

“Okay. That leads us to the next question.”

“‘What’s a safe distance?’” said Amy. She seemed restless. “I hate it that it takes so long to get there. I wouldn’t be surprised if, right after we arrived, we got a report of a sighting back at Origins.”

VALYA SPENT MUCH of the time teaching Amy how to play chess while MacAllister kibitzed. Eventually, Eric got into the chess game, and Valya sat down with MacAllister. At his urging, she talked about life in the Peloponnesus.

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “My folks had money. They sent me to the best schools. My father wanted me to be a physician, like him.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, really. And anyhow, I wasn’t interested. I was an only child, so I became something of a major disappointment to them.”

“I can’t believe that.”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s kind of you, Mac.”

“How’d you come by Valentina? That isn’t Greek, is it?”

“I was named for my grandmother. She was Russian.” Her eyes sparkled with the recollection.

“So you can relate to Amy.”

“Amy and law school? Oh, yes. I know the drill.”

“Your parents’ attitude must have changed when you became a pilot.”

“They pretended it had. But you know how it is. My father used to go on about how much good I might have done as a doctor. He doesn’t do that anymore. Just walks around looking as if he’s burdened with sorrow.” She glanced back toward the hatch. “How many siblings does Amy have?”

“I think she’s an only child, too.”

“Same situation. All the eggs in one basket.” She laughed. It was a sweet sound, but there was sadness in it. “I wish we could have brought her father along. He might have learned something about her. And about himself.”

“Do you get to see them much? Your parents?”

“Not as much as I should. Visits can be painful.” She looked at him. “How about you?”

“I see my mother once in a while. My father’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “He and I were never close. My folks used to pray for me all the time.”

“I don’t blame them.” The smile spread across her features.

“Amy gets to be a lawyer. You’re a doctor. My folks wanted me to be a preacher.”

“Really? What happened?”

He shrugged. “I got lucky.”

“You wandered pretty far from home.”

“Sometimes you have to. I can sympathize with Beemer.”

“Who?”

“Oh, he’s caught up in a court case in North Carolina. He objected to the church school he went to.”

“Is he the guy who bopped the preacher?”

“Yes. Nice to know that occasionally someone rebels.”

“How about your mother?”

“I shouldn’t sell her short. She encouraged me to read. She didn’t always like the books I brought home. But she looked the other way when she had to.”

“So you didn’t keep the faith.”

“No. I didn’t last long.”

She got involved in a short conversation with Bill. Something about fuel correlations, but MacAllister knew she was stalling while she decided how to react. “It can be a major loss, Mac,” she said, finally. “There are times when you need to be able to believe in a higher power, or you can’t make it through.”

“So far,” said MacAllister, “I’ve managed.”

“The day’ll come.”

“Maybe. But the notion that we need a higher power, that’s more a human failing than a reflection of reality. The universe pays no attention to what we need. Truth is what it is, and the inconveniences it might cause us don’t change anything.”

“How did it happen? When did you walk away? Do you remember?”

“Oh, yes. I was about seventeen. Trying to hang on, because I was still afraid of the penalty for getting things wrong. Lose your soul. That’s pretty serious stuff.”

“So what exactly happened?”

“I don’t know. Read too much Dostoevski maybe. Saw the aftereffects of one tidal wave too many. Saw too many kids die in the Carodyne epidemic.”

“They had the medications available, didn’t they?”

“Yes. But there were bureaucratic problems. Delays of all kinds. So people died by the tens of thousands.”

“Things like that happen,” she said.

“Then there was Milly.”

“Milly?”

“A kitten. A stray. Abandoned by her mother. We brought her into the house when I was a kid. But she had Brinkmann’s. A disease. Too far along so they euthanized her.”

“I can see that would be traumatic for a kid. How old were you?”

“Nine. And I remember thinking what was the point of having a deity looking after the planet if he doesn’t take care of kittens? He gets credit for the handful of survivors when a ship goes down; but nobody ever seems to notice that, for those who died, he didn’t carry his weight.”

She was silent for a time. “You must have been a severe disappointment to him. To your father.”

“He never made the adjustment. Never forgave me. He wasn’t big on forgiveness. Talked about it a lot but didn’t practice it.”

“How’s your mother now?”

“Still prays for me.”

Bill broke in: “Valya, I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“What is it, Bill?”

“The monitor’s gone silent.”

THEY GOT LUCKY. The Salvator emerged into normal space barely an hour away from the monitor. MacAllister’s first act was to rotate the view on the display to satisfy himself no moonriders were in the vicinity.

“Put the monitor on the scope,” Valya said, from the bridge.

It looked untouched.

“Everybody stay strapped down. Let’s go take a look.”

MacAllister had never lacked for courage to confront the assorted power mongers with whom he had to deal. He had, on one occasion, even faced down the president of the North American Union. But he didn’t like taking physical risks, and the knowledge that an unknown, and unpredictable, force was running around out there left him wondering whether they should take the hint and leave. The moonriders had probably disabled the monitor. And they might well be prepared to disable anyone who showed up in the area. But with two women present and apparently heedless of the risks, it was difficult to say anything.

Eric and Amy, on the other hand, were enjoying the experience. Amy, of course, wasn’t smart enough to recognize the danger. She had that same sense of indestructibility that everybody has at fifteen. Moreover, she wanted to be at the center of everything. One day, he knew, she would drive some poor guy crazy.

Eric’s problem was that he had seen too many action vids. He visualized himself as the free-swinging sim hero, Jack What’s-His-Name. And, of course, there was no point reminding him that, whatever the odds Jack faced, he always had the writers on his side.

Valya put them on course toward the monitor and began to accelerate. MacAllister sank back into his chair. “Do we see anything moving anywhere?” he asked.

“Nothing that’s not in a standard orbit, Mac. If we spot anything, I’ll let you know.”

Amy looked at him and grinned. “Glad you came, Mr. MacAllister?”

“Oh,” he said, “you bet, Amy. Wouldn’t have missed it.” He tried to deliver the line straight, but she picked something up and looked at him oddly.

“It’ll be okay,” she said. “We can run pretty fast if we have to.”

“No, no,” he said, as if personal safety were of no concern. “It’s not that.” He tried to think what it might be. “I was just anxious to get a look at the asteroid.”

NONE OF THE monitor’s status lamps worked. “General power failure, looks like,” said Valya.

“Could that happen naturally?” asked Eric, as they pulled alongside.

“Oh, sure.” Valya suited up and headed aft. Eric asked whether she wanted company.

“No,” she said. “Thanks anyhow. Nothing you can do.”

She disappeared below. Hatches opened and closed. They heard the whooshing sounds of decompression. The ship moved slightly and aligned itself more closely to the monitor, which floated just outside the cargo doors.

MacAllister remembered a favored theme in popular sims and cheap novels, in which a monster is brought aboard a ship inadvertently. Usually, a settlement had been wiped out, cause unknown. The rescue ship gathers evidence and starts home. And the thing creeps out of a canteen and, within twenty-four hours or so, is terrorizing the ship. While he thought about that, the cargo doors opened. Bill switched to zero gee, moved the Salvator slightly to starboard, and the instrument floated inside. Valya disconnected the monitor’s telescopes and sensors. He watched her work over the unit, poking and prodding and running tests.

“Nothing jumps out at me,” she said at last. “It has no power. But we pretty much knew that.” She began opening panels in the device.

“Can you tell why not?” asked Amy.

“Hang on a sec.”

“You think the moonriders did it?” Eric asked.

The future pilot shook her head. “I don’t think so. Wouldn’t the monitor have seen them coming?”

“Yes,” said MacAllister. “We would have had pictures.”

“It’s the calibrator.” She’d plugged a gauge into one of the slots. “It failed, we got a surge, and everything blew out.”

“Could the moonriders have done it?” persisted Eric.

“No. I’d say it’s just a routine breakdown.” Then she was talking to the monitor: “Let’s see now…. Should be one here somewhere…. There we go.” And to her passengers: “I’m going to install a replacement. It’ll only take a few minutes. Then we’ll relaunch and be on our way.”

Eric looked disappointed.

WHEN VALYA WAS finished, she ran more tests, reattached the monitor’s parts, put it back outside, and came back up to the common room. “All right,” she said, “let’s go take a look at the asteroid.”