He stepped out onto a gravel path that led under dark trees. This garden was very extensive, but the cyclopean walls of the Redoubt reared up on all sides to enclose it. Somewhere in those tapering black towers, the rest of the expedition was asleep. Tomorrow they would be meeting the halo worlders and settling their plans. Michael didn't feel a part of that. The problem was, he didn't feel there was a place for him outside the redoubt either, unless he returned to Kimpurusha.

He heard the crunching sound of someone walking up the gravel path and, turning, discovered it was Admiral Crisler. The admiral was walking meditatively, with his hands behind his back. He looked up and smiled at Michael. "Nice night, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see you're of like mind to myself, Dr. Bequith. Soaking up the feel of being on a planet while you can, eh?"

"Well, I just spent the past few months able to look out my window at places like this, but never touch them."

"Yes… I remember that sense of frustration, back in the days when I was a respecter of planetary quarantines myself."

Michael sensed an opportunity; it was time to be direct. "Sir? Why did you leave the Institute? Was it to join the military, or was that a later decision?"

Crisler arched an eyebrow at him. "Why the curiosity? Are you thinking of leaving the good professor?"

That hit close to home; Michael shrugged. Crisler looked away, grunted, and said, "It's never one thing that changes the direction of your life, you know. I began my scientific career believing that the aliens we studied were fundamentally like us. But they're not. Humans alone are conscious. We really are special, Bequith. Once I realized that, I realized just how precious and fragile that made us. I mean, just for you and me to be standing here talking in this garden… how rare a thing that is. It was a short step from that to wanting to protect that rarity."

"From what?"

Crisler stared at him. "The rebels. Son, you must know that they use alien technology. Some of them have been practicing genetic engineering on their children. They're abandoning humanity. The Rights Economy exists to keep humanity together; they want to pull us apart into a million warring species. I won't have that. Not on my watch."

"I see."

"I hope so." The admiral looked away, sighed heavily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll continue my walk, and try to store up as much of this fine night air as I can."

They nodded their goodbyes, and Crisler walked away.

To the right lay a jungle-thick garden. Michael walked that way, listening to the titter of tiny lives around his feet, drinking in the strange spicy scents of the garden. Here were all the sensations he had been cut off from on Kadesh. Being here felt like a release from prison.

Maybe in this place he could summon the kami. He looked about for a sheltered place to sit. As he did, movement caught his eye.

She walked with her head down, hands behind her back. He might not have seen her at all had the faint light from Chandaka's starlike second sun not caught her oval face as she passed through a clearing. Her hair was black and she wore a jet coverall that made her face and long hands seem to float among the shadowed bushes.

The young woman hadn't noticed him. She was humming quietly to herself as she drifted through the darkness. She paused in a dark bower and said something he didn't catch. For a moment Michael thought she was speaking to him and he was about to answer when another voice spoke from nearby her.

"You know, it's funny." It was a man's voice. His accent was more familiar. "I'm out of the halo. I thought it would be simple— we'd learn to control the Envy, become millionaires, and I'd head home."

"I'm sorry it hasn't worked out," she said. Her silhouette bent, perhaps to embrace the man. "You risked everything to trust me, Evan. I won't forget that."

"Well… I just wanted to get back to High Space," he said gruffly. "But I thought I'd have something to show for it when I got here."

"I know," she said, almost inaudibly. "I'm sorry. What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Max and I were going over the terms of your agreement with this admiral. That's when it really hit me: I can't stay here, not as it stands. R.E. laws are so… draconian. You realize that you still don't own the Envy?"

"I know," she said with a sigh. "Crisler knows it, too."

"He could move to expropriate it," said the man.

Michael tried to stay perfectly still, and breathe as shallowly as possible. This was very interesting.

"By R.E. law, someone has to own the rights to the Envy," continued the man. "If it isn't you, then it's the state. And until you're able to control the Envy, you can't complete your claim by Cycler Compact law. So I don't get paid."

"It's why I made this deal to go back, Evan. It's a deal with the devil, I know that. But what else am I supposed to do? I'm responsible, Evan, I know that. I can't just wash my hands of you or the others. I couldn't live with myself if any of us ended up in indentured labor somewhere."

He laughed humorlessly. "What are we going to do about it? Crisler only needs your permission as current claim-owner to visit the Envy. Once he's there, he can expropriate it for the R.E. Then we're all sunk."

"Believe me, I've been thinking about that a lot, Ev. But look at it this way: if we discover that she can be turned during this expedition, my claim is upheld. If we can't turn her, but it turns out in ten years that she's swung about on her own to pass Erythrion again, then my original claim is upheld. So Crisler can't expropriate until he has some idea of where she's going."

"Hmm." The man turned to look at the stars. "Yeah, you may be right. At the Envy's velocity, even if they try to orbit her around Chandaka they'll have to do a constant expensive course correction and the orbit's probably gonna be big enough to include Erythrion. Light years in radius."

"Right," she said. "I may have to give them what they want, but not necessarily at the expense of what I want." She sat down next to the man. "Evan, come with us. You're the only one of us who knows these people— their culture, I mean. We need you."

"I… don't know, Rue. I spent years on the cyclers and that was fine. But when I got stranded on Erythrion…" He looked down. "I couldn't stand to be stranded again. I know myself too well. It would be the end of me."

She hugged him. "Sometimes," she said, "you have to jump right back at whatever just bit you. And bite it back."

Michael turned and walked away as quietly as he could.

Later, he lay in bed and fought with himself. Although he didn't know that man he'd overheard in the garden, Michael felt for him. Stay or go? It was a dilemma he understood.

There was no life for him with Dr. Herat anymore; he could no longer find the sacred in Service or, it seemed, in the landscapes that the NeoShinto AI was supposed to attune him to. He was adrift.

As they flew toward the Redoubt, Michael had seen glimpses of Chandaka, and they had been depressing. On the outskirts of the city they were building a glittering wall that would eventually become a geodesic dome. Michael had asked the local information service what the dome was for. "There's no money for the terraforming anymore," it had told him blandly. "Chandaka is losing its artificial atmosphere." After they landed, Michael had asked their guide at the Redoubt about this. He had grimaced unhappily. "When we joined the R.E., the politicians and businessmen who grew up here became Rights Owners of the lands and industry," he said. "Now they live in luxury on Earth, and they've decided it's too expensive to keep up the terraforming. They've passed on the problem, so the city council is building the dome just so we can keep breathing. Which sucks up money, so there's even less to go to the Rights Owners." The guide made a downward spiral motion with his finger. "It's all going to hell."