“How in the world did you ever—”

“No time for that now. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

“How?”

George scratched at his beard. “Good question.”

“You didn’t bring along a suit for me, did you?” Cardenas said. “Should have, shouldn’t I? We just didn’t think of it. We weren’t certain where you were.”

“So what do we do?”

George thought it over for a few moments. “They keep you in this room all the time?”

Cardenas nodded.

“Door’s locked, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And there’s a guard outside… at least, every time they’ve brought a meal in to me there’s been a guard out in the hall. I imagine he’s armed.” George’s face lit up. “When do they bring you meals? When’s the next one coming?”

Several hours later there was a single rap on the door, and then Cardenas heard the lock click. She glanced swiftly about the room but could no longer see George. The door opened and the same silent, sour-faced woman in dark uniform came in, carrying a dinner tray. Cardenas could see a wiry young man standing on the other side of the doorway. The woman deposited the tray wordlessly on the coffee table in front of the sofa and then departed, still silent and dour. The guard closed the door and locked it again.

Cardenas sat on the sofa. For the first time in days she had an appetite. She felt George’s bulk settling on the cushions beside her.

“Smells good,” George said.

She took the lid off a platter of fish fillets and vegetables.

“Looks good, too,” George added.

“You’re hungry,” she said.

“Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Help yourself.”

George didn’t wait to be coaxed. He lifted off his face mask again and dug in. Cardenas watched as fork and knife moved seemingly by themselves and chunks of dinner rose to his face, which seemed to be floating in midair. She found that if she looked hard enough, directly at him, she could see a faint flickering glitter, almost subliminal. Reflection of the ceiling lights scattered by the chips, she thought. But you have to know he’s there to see it, and even then it’s almost below the perception level.

“Don’t you want any?” George asked.

“No, you go ahead.”

“Eat the veggies, at least.”

“I’ll take the salad.”

The meal was finished in a few minutes. George put his mask on again and completely disappeared.

“D’you tell ’em you’re finished or do they send the maid back for the tray automatically?”

“I tell the guard. He sends for the maid.”

“Okay. Tell the guard you’re finished and ask him to take the tray.”

“He’ll send for the maid.”

“Tell ’im you don’t want to wait for her. Make some excuse.” Cardenas nodded, got up from the sofa, and went to the door. She could sense George’s body warmth as he padded along beside her. She banged on the door with the flat of her hand. “I’m finished. Could you please take the tray?”

“I’ll call the kitchen,” came the guard’s muffled voice. “I can’t wait! I’ve got to get to the toilet right away! I’m sick to my stomach. Please take the tray.”

A moment’s hesitation, then they heard the lock click. The door swung open and the guard stepped in, looking concerned.

“What’s the matter? Something in the—”

The punch sounded like a melon hitting the pavement from a considerable height.

The guard’s head snapped back and his eyes rolled up. He crumpled to the floor.

Cardenas saw his arms yanked up into the air and his body dragged into the room.

“Come on, now,” George whispered to her.

They stepped out into the hallway. The door shut, seemingly by itself, and locked. She felt his hand engulf half her upper arm as George let her down the hallway to the stairs. The house seemed quiet at this hour, although a glance out the windows showed that the cavern outside was still lit in daytime mode. The downstairs hall was empty, but Cardenas could hear the sounds of conversation floating through from somewhere. Neither of the voices sounded like Humphries’s to her. They got to the foyer just inside the front door. Two young men in gray suits looked surprised to see her approaching them.

Frowning, the taller of the two said, “Dr. Cardenas, what are—”

George’s punch spun him completely around. The other guard stared, frozen with surprise, until he was lifted off his feet by a blow to the midsection. Cardenas heard a bone-snapping crunch! and the guard fell limply to the tiled floor. The front door jerked open and George hissed, “Come on, then!” Cardenas ran out of the house, up the path that wound through the garden, and through the hatch that opened into Selene’s bottommost corridor. She could hear George panting and puffing alongside her. Once they were through the hatch, George’s hand on her arm brought her to a stop.

“I don’t think anybody’s followin’ us,” he said.

“How long do you think it will take for them to realize I’m gone?” she asked.

She sensed him shrugging. “Not fookin’ long.”

“What now, then?”

“Lemme get outta this suit,” George muttered. “Hot enough inside here to cook a fella.”

His face appeared, then his entire shaggy head. Within a minute he stood before her, sweating and grinning, a big red-haired mountain of a man in rumpled, stained olive-green coveralls.

“That’s better,” George said, taking a deep breath. “Could hardly breathe inside that suit.”

As they started walking swiftly along the corridor toward the escalator, Cardenas asked, “Where can I go? Where will I be safe? Humphries will turn Selene upsidedown looking for me.”

“We could go to Stavenger and ask him to take care of you.” She shook her head. “Don’t put Doug in the middle of this. Besides, Humphries probably has his own people planted in Selene’s staff.”

“H’mm, yeah, maybe,” George said as they reached the escalator. “Inside Astro, too, for that matter.”

Suddenly frightened at the possibilities, Cardenas blurted, “Where can I go?” George smiled. “I got the perfect hideout for ya. Long as you don’t mind sharin’ it with a corpsicle, that is.”

“It’s a beauty,” Dan breathed, staring at the image on the control panel’s radar screen.

“Purty ugly-lookin’ beauty,” Pancho countered. The radar image showed an elongated irregular lump of an asteroid, one end rounded and pitted, the other dented by what looked like the imprint of a giant mailed fist. “It looks rather like a potato,” said Amanda, “don’t you think?”

“An iron potato,” Dan said.

Fuchs came through the hatch, and suddenly the bridge felt crowded to Dan. Lars isn’t tall, he said to himself, but he fills up a room. “That is it?” Fuchs asked, his eyes riveted to the screen.

“That’s it,” Pancho said, over her shoulder. She tapped at the keyboard on her left and a set of alphanumerics sprang up on the small screen above it. “Fourteenth asteroid discovered this year.”

Amanda said, “Then its official name will be 41-014 Fuchs.”

“How’s it feel to have your name on an asteroid, Lars?” Pancho asked. “Very fine,” Fuchs said.

“You’re the first person to have his name attached to a newly-discovered asteroid in years,” Amanda said. She seemed almost aglow, to Dan. “Most of the new rocks have been found by the impact searchers,” Pancho said.

“Those li’l bitty probes don’t get their names into the record.”

“Asteroid 41-014 Fuchs,” Amanda breathed.

He smiled and shrugged — squirmed, almost, as if embarrassed by her enthusiasm.

“The official name’s one thing,” Dan said. “I’m calling her Bonanza.”

“Her?” Fuchs asked.

“Asteroids are feminine?” Pancho challenged.

Dan held his ground. “Hey, we speak of Mother Earth, don’t we? And they call Venus our sister planet, don’t they?”

“What about Mars?” Pancho retorted.

“Or Jupiter,” said Amanda.

Pointing to the lump imaged on the radar screen, Dan insisted, “Bonanza’s going to make us all rich. And very happy. She and her sisters are going to save the world. She’s a female.”