Virginia sighed softly. “Yes, I suppose so. Still, I hope they leave some of these crystal structures in place. It would be a shame if the only marks we left were scars on every inch of this little world.”

She heard Lani sniff but politely withhold further comment.

Virginia knew that, to a spacer, talk of “preserving nature” was nothing more than Luddism. It was all very well to try to save what was left of poor, depleted Earth, but to apply such ideas to the vast resources out here struck spacers as thickheaded.

Dumb or not, though, a majority of Earthlings felt that way. And Virginia was not sure, quite yet, if she disagreed.

She walked her mech back over to the stacked equipment and helped the Amerasian girl unload a new crate of fibercloth tunnel liner. Carl Osborn was due up here in a little while to work with Lani on a new link from Shaft 2 to Shaft 1. Lani had asked Virginia to come up—in proxy, of course—to help whip a balky autonomous mechanical into shape for the upcoming operation.

This mech is working just fine, Virginia thought. The model’s certainly smart enough to have done Lani’s bidding without my direct control. I wonder what her real reason was for asking me up here.

Together they pushed the crate toward the gaping airlock doors, providing fingertip support for the bulky cargo against Halley Core’s faint tug. It was then that Lani spoke again, in a voice of labored casualness.

—As long as you’re up here, Virginia, I want to thank you for helping arrange to put me on First Watch.—

Virginia started, and nearly dropped her end of the crate as they lowered it to the floor of the airlock.

“Uh, you’re welcome, Lani. I—I don’t really think I made much difference, though.”

That was certainly the truth. Three weeks ago, while a hundred temporarily awakened men and women scrambled about like ants preparing for the long winter, Lani had hinted something to Virginia about influencing shift scheduling. She wanted to remain awake on the first year-and-a-half detail, after nearly everyone else was cooled down.

A number of crew members seemed to share this belief, that Virginia had some sort of a secret back door into the mission mainframe computer aboard the Edmund. Some had made even more blatant requests. She had been politely, noncommittal to them all. People took that sort of answer better than an outright refusal.

To be honest, in all the running around, Virginia had forgotten about Lani’s shy entreaty until now.

They had to push down on the crate to set it against the other equipment, Halley’s pull was so molasses slow.

—I’m really grateful. I just couldn’t go down there to sleep. to pass so much time… with my mind in such a spin. There are things… things I have to work out.—

Although she had half-turned away as she spoke, Lani’s face was now visible under her helmet visor. The young woman could easily have been Hawaiian, with her faintly Eurasian features and healthy, taut skin. Right now, though, Spacer Second Class Nguyen seemed troubled, her mouth working as she sought words to express herself.

Well, it’s only to be expected, Virginia thought. They told us back on Earth that we would all have to take turns being each other’s therapists, ministers, listeners. And then they loaded the expedition down with exiles, cripples, and refugees.

Like me. She sighed. Be honest with yourself, Ginnie, are you any less confused than this poor girl?

She waited, and at last Lani spoke again.

—Virginia, I was wondering. Um, what do you think of the Birth and Childhood Laws?—

Virginia was glad that a mech couldn’t show her sudden surprise.

“Well, uh, they don’t seem all that fair… though I guess there are arguments on both sides. I don’t suppose you like them much, Lani. After all, you’re a…”

—A spacer. Yes. —Lani nodded. —My parents were California Techno-Liberals. They told me stories, ever since I was a little baby, about how mankind’s future was out in space. How someday humanity would move out here and get rich and happy and generous again. Only the dreary stay-at-home types would live on Earth.—

Virginia shifted uncomfortably. The mech responded with the same pelvis cant.

“Your parents were right, Lani. Space is saving humanity. Even reactionaries and Arcists know that. Why do you think Hawaii invested so heavily in this expedition? Those dreams will come true, someday.

“I guess it’s just that the Hell Century is still fresh in everyone’s memory. That’s why so many countries are so suspicious. Space has to serve Earth first, until the recovery is complete. Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you’ll live to see your Third Plateau.”

The mech’s vision system adjusted to the shadows. Through the other woman’s faceplate she saw Lani’s head shake.

—Probably too late for me, though. I’ll have to go live on Earth to have my babies, and no male spacer will give up the Black to stay dirtside with me.—

There it was, laid out like an open wound. Virginia ’s palms felt clammy on her waldo controls. If there was any subject she would prefer not to discuss, this was it.

She said with feigned lightness, “Isn’t that an exaggeration?”

Lani looked up. Her dark eyes were sad.

—Look at the figures, Virginia. All spacers store sperm or ova in banks on Earth. Most breed by proxy… except those who are Percells, and can’t find surrogate parents for their offspring. They’re even worse off than us Orthos.—

Virginia felt a wash of savage irony. At least the girl had something to store away. She had a ticket into the future.

What have I, but my machines? Virginia thought.

“The radiation levels you live in make that necessary, don’t they, Lani?” A truism, of course.

Lani shrugged.

—If they’d let us build real space colonies, instead of just factories and life-support huts in orbit, we spacers could marry and raise families together. As it is, those women spacers who go home and reclaim their plasm have to stay there with their children. Nearly all of us have to marry Earthers, since no man like Car… since hardly any man of space would give up the Black without a fight.—

Virginia tried to pull the conversation back into the abstract, where she was much more comfortable. “That’s a tough situation, Lani. But the laws themselves…:”

—The Birth and Childhood Laws are a crock! You know they’re just reactionary measures against anything new and frightening to the masses! They don’t want to lose control of us out here! They’re terrified of change!—

Virginia quashed her first reaction—to tell the girl not to teach her grandmother to suck eggs. What, in all the world, had a healthy Ortho girl to teach her about life? About bitterness and the dark shadow of persecution? There was only one man out here Virginia cared to listen to, or who had the right to say anything on those matters.

Something of this must have been conveyed in the host mech’s six-legged stance. The spacesuited woman straightened up and shook her head.

—I’m sorry I shouted, Virginia.—

“That’s all right, Lani. Come on, let’s get that last crate. You know that hell hath no fury like a petty officer confronted with a job undone. We want to be finished before His Nibs, Spacer First Class Carl Osborn, arrives.”

Lani laughed, but finished with a sniff and a shake of her head. Virginia reached out delicately with one manipulator arm and touched the spacesuit’s insulated sleeve. The other woman nodded and they moved pack tent under the stars to fetch the last crate.

They had tugged the hulking container halfway back to the airlock structure when a light fanned forth from the lift doors following a spurting ivory cloud of released gas.

A tall, bulky, spacesuited figure emerged. Virginia recognise Carl Osborn from his languid, graceful movement along the guide cable even before she could make out the name-chop on his suit’s tabard.