He knew why.

I’m free, he told himself. Maybe for only a couple of weeks, but I’m free of all of them, free of all their crap. We’re on our own and nobody can bother us. Until we come back.

Pancho ducked through the hatch and went straight to the juice dispenser.

“How’s it going?” Dan asked casually.

“All systems working jus’ fine,” she said, filling a mug and coming to the table to sit next to Dan.

“Must be okay if you feel good enough to leave the bridge.”

“Mandy’s up there, keepin’ an eye on ever’thing. The bird will actually fly on her own; we don’t need to be on the bridge every minute of the day.”

“Any incoming calls?” Dan asked.

She shrugged. “Only about six or seven million. Ever’body from Doug Stavenger to the Global News Network wants to talk to you.”

“Global News?” Dan’s ears perked up.

“Lots of news media. They all want to interview you.” Dan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Might not be a bad idea. If we’re going to do an interview it’ll have to be before we get so far away the time lag makes it impossible to have a real-time conversation.”

“Better do it quick, then,” Pancho said. “Once we goose this bird to one-third g, we’ll really be sprintin’ fast.”

Dan nodded his agreement. Pointing to the phone console built into the bulkhead, he asked, “Can you patch me through?”

“Easy.”

“Okay… lemme talk to La Guaira.”

The head of Astro’s corporate public relations staff was a sweet-faced brunette who was older — and much tougher — than she looked. Dan asked her if she could arrange a news conference with the world’s major news networks. “It has to be today,” he pressed. “We’re zipping out so fast that by tomorrow we won’t be able to talk back and forth without a four-to-five-minute lag.”

“Understood,” said the PR woman.

“Can you do it?”

She arched a carefully-drawn brow. “Arrange a major news conference with the man who’s hijacked his own superduper spaceship to go out past Mars and start mining the asteroids? Just get off the line, boss, and let me get to work.” Dan laughed and obliged. He was glad that he had decided to keep his public relations team intact, despite the layoffs in other corporate departments. Fire the accountants and the lawyers, he reminded himself. Get rid of the paper shufflers and bean counters. But keep the people who polish your public image. They’re the last to go — except for the people who do the real work: the engineers and scientists.

Pancho watched him as she sipped at her juice. When Dan ended his call to La Guaira, she asked, “So now what happens?”

“Now we wait while my PR people do their jobs.”

“Uh-huh. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“We’ll know in an hour or so,” Dan said. “If it takes longer than that, it’s not going to go down.”

Pancho nodded. “I could hear it. The lag between you and her’s already longer than the usual Earth-Moon delay.”

Dan got to his feet and went to the coffee dispenser. He really wanted a pleasant glass of Amontillado, but there was no alcohol on the ship. Remembering the story the two women had told him about the goons Humphries had sent after Amanda, Dan asked, “Whatever happened to your snake?”

“Elly?”

“Is that the snake’s name?”

“Yup.”

“So what’d you do with her?”

Pancho reached down to her ankle and came up with the glittering blue krait.

Dan flinched back. “You brought that thing aboard?”

Shrugging, Pancho said, “I was gonna leave it with Pistol Pete, he’s the guy who owns the Pelican Bar. But with those goons and all, I didn’t have the time.”

“We’ve got a poisonous snake on the ship!”

“Relax, boss,” Pancho said easily. “I’ve got four mice in my travel bag. That’s enough to keep Elly fat and happy for more’n a month.” Dan stared at the snake. Its beady eyes stared back at him.

He started to shake his head. “I don’t want that thing on this ship.”

“Elly won’t be a problem,” Pancho insisted. “I’ll keep her in a nice, cool spot.

She’ll sleep most of the time.” Then, with a smirk, she added, “And digest.”

“But if something should happen…”

Pancho’s face went deadly serious. She seemed to Dan to be struggling with herself.

He suggested, “Maybe we could freeze the snake for the duration of the flight.

Thaw her out when we get back to Selene.”

“She’s not poisonous,” Pancho blurted.

“What?”

“I don’t like to admit it, but Elly’s not really poisonous. I just tell people that to keep ’em respectful. You think Selene’s safety board would let a poisonous critter into the city?”

“But you said…”

Looking almost apologetic, Pancho said, “Aw, you can’t believe ever’thing I say, boss. A gal’s got to protect herself, doesn’t she?”

“But what about that guy she bit?”

“Elly was gengineered. They modified her toxin so she produces a tranquillizer, not a lethal poison.”

Dan gave her a hard look. Can I believe anything she says? he wondered. “The science guys wanted to use Elly to trank animals in the wild that they wanted to study. It never worked.”

“And you got the snake for a pet.”

“A bodyguard,” Pancho corrected.

“What about the antiserum?”

She laughed. “Saline solution. Just a placebo. The guy would’ve woke up whether they used it or not.”

Dan broke into a chuckle, too. “Pancho, you’re something of a con artist.”

“I suppose,” she admitted easily.

Amanda’s voice came through on the intercom. “I’ve got an incoming call from La Guaira.”

“I’ll take it here,” Dan said.

It took several frenzied hours, but Dan’s PR director finally set up an interactive news conference with reporters from virtually every major media network on Earth, plus Selene’s own news director, Edith Elgin, who happened to be Mrs. Douglas Stavenger when she wasn’t on the air.

Dan sat back in the little plastic chair in Starpower’s wardroom and smiled into the camera of the phone console set into the bulkhead. His PR director acted as moderator, choosing which reporter was allowed to ask a question, and a backup. Dan found that the time lag from the ship to Earth worked in his favor; it gave him time to think before the next question arrived.

It’s always smart to think before you talk, he told himself. Engage brain before putting mouth in gear.

Cable News: Why did you hijack your own ship?

Dan Randolph: How can you call it a hijacking if it’s my own ship? And it’s only partially mine, by the way. Starpower 1 is owned by Starpower, Ltd., which in turn is owned by three organizations: Humphries Space Systems, Astro Manufacturing, and the people of Selene. Far as I know, neither Humphries nor Selene is complaining, so I don’t see this as a hijacking. Cable News: But the International Astronautical Authority says you have no right to be aboard Starpower 1.

Dan Randolph: Bureaucratic [DELETED]. There’s no reason why a human crew can’t ride in this vessel. The IAA is just trying to strangle us in red tape. BBC: Why do you think the IAA refused to give permission for a human crew to fly in your vessel?

Dan Randolph: I’ll be double-dipped in hot chocolate fudge if I know. Ask them.

BBC: Surely you have some opinion on the matter.

Dan Randolph: Paper shufflers tend to be conservative souls. There’s always a risk in allowing somebody to do something new, and bureaucrats hate risk-taking. Much safer for them to say no, you need more testing or another round of approvals. Buck the responsibility upstairs and don’t stick your own neck out. If the IAA had been running America’s expansion westward back in the nineteenth century, they’d still be trying to decide whether to build Chicago or St. Louis. Nippon News Agency: What do you hope to achieve by this flight? Dan Randolph: Ah, a substantive question for a change. We intend to stake out a claim to one or more asteroids. Our goal is to open up the vast resources of the Asteroid Belt for the human race.