The Russian Percell shrugged. His eyelids were still slightly blue-tinged and his cheeks chalky from his recent awakening from slot sleep.

“I just stopped by to grab a look on way to Shaft Three. I go to help your lovers test their new machine to save the world.”

Virginia looked up quickly. “What are you talking about?”

“You know who I mean.” He winked. “Osborn and Lintz.”

Sergeov held out a small slip of paper with her name scratched on the outside. She plucked it up with her fingertips and unfolded it to read the message. Virginia nodded.

“So you’re going to help Carl and Saul test the new beamers. Is that it?”

He nodded.

“Okay, then. Tell Saul I’ll arrange to send him the mechs he needs for the experiment. I’ll scrape them up somewhere.”

Sergeov nodded. “Ah, ways to get around channels. I knew that he had influence with Secret Mistress of all Machines. I must learn his tricks.”

Virginia shrugged. Sergeov had had a reason to seek her out. Now she only wanted his visit to end. “Is that all, Otis?”

“Only one more thing. A personal curiosity. I did underrate you, Virginia. You may be Orthophile, but at least you chose the father—or uncle—of our race for shacking up with. He is still Ortho, but so is anybody over fifty, so if you are so kinky as to prefer old men, I guess you have no better choice, eh?”

She glared at him. “You dirty-minded little.”

“Wait until I get that old Hmmm? Will I then chance have?”

Virginia ’s head whirled. The man said so many infuriating things, each deserving to be burnt down with scathing logic. Oh, why am I so compulsive? He’s not looking for an argument over semantics, he wants to get on my nerves, that’s all.

“Fuck you, Otis,” she said at last.

Sergeov blinked in momentary surprise, then he laughed. His head rocked back and he cried out in delight. “Said well! If only we had you on Earth, day before yesterday! You could have told them.”

“Told who?”

“Bastards in Geneva.”

Virginia hesitated, feeling suddenly cold.

“What’s happened on Earth?”

“If you had more than time of day for your own kin, you would have by now known,” Sergeov taunted her. “We have no one to talk to but each other now… now that Orthos blame us for the diseases.”

“They do not…” Virginia closed her eyes and resolved not to be sidetracked. “Tell me what happened on Earth, Otis. Or this time I really will break your arm.”

The Russian spacer nodded. His voice was suddenly subdued.

“There was coup, Virginia. Hawaii is now under Arc of the Sun.”

“What?” She stared. “But… But that’s impossible! How?”

“Mercenaries from Philippines. Governor Ikeda dead. There is martial law.”

“But the Thirty-second Amendment… the United States has to defend—”

Sergeov shrugged. “Supreme Court of United States met in emergency session, Virginia… ruled that Hawaii, since 2026, is been semisovereign… I think that is proper phrase Means a de facto Arcist government is hokay—so long as it pays federal taxes on time, and keeps external-affairs-nose clean.

“They have already the Percell School closed down. Shut down uplift-research institute and that big tidal-energy project. More is to come, for sure.”

Sergeov came forward, one hand on a rail, breathing intensely. His voice was thick with sarcasm “Now you see? See why we could have yesterday used your eloquence back on Earth? The case was only six to three, decided. Surely if you had there been, you would have been able to convince them. Or at least could have told them fuck you right into their Ortho…”

He stopped then, because Virginia had already stumbled out into the hallway, pat the hulking decontamination robot, ignoring its monotone request that she submit to its worthless sound-and-light treatment. She moved without destination. blinded by sudden tears, navigating purely by rote.

Things were getting bad.

Carl drifted on a tether, waiting for Saul Lintz to show up. He was glad for the break.

In the last few days he’d learned to take his rest where lie found it—in little cat naps and food breaks, using every slack moment to let his muscles forget about what he was putting them through. There wasn’t time to get mechs into place for most jobs, and a lot of it they couldn’t do anyway.

Good old grunt work, Carl thought. Only it’s different if your life depends on it.

In a way, he was glad he wasn’t running things. Major Lopez, who barely concealed his distrust of Percells, had all the headaches. Fine. Let him sweat.

There weren’t enough hands to control the green gunk algae, much less the big forms. Bethany Oakes was busily unslotting people to help out, but that took time. He had heard things weren’t running well down there, either. Some unslotted ones were angry at being reawakened early, and then scared of catching the whatsits diseases running around.

Not that he could blame them. He had a new guy on his crew, a husky Norwegian named Veerlan, and already the sniffles and coughing were starting. The man had been out only thirty-five hours, hardly even fit for heavy work yet.

“Is the team ready?” Saul’s voice came to Carl out of a foggy blur. Saul landed stiffly on fiberthread nearby and hooked a line to a stay.

“Ah… yeah. Not much of a team, though.”

“How many?” Saul seemed alert and ready, even though long fatigue lines rutted his face. He carried a bulky machine strapped to his back.

“Four.”

“Including you?”

“Yeah.”

“Um…I don’t know…it’s going to be pretty cumbersome.”

“I’ll call mechs.”

“I’ve already had Sergeov tell Virginia. She’ll send some as soon as possible.”

Carl felt a hot spurt of irritation. “I’m in charge of mechs in this quadrant.”

Saul’s mouth tightened. “Look, this is an emergency—”

“I’ll call Virginia. This isn’t your lab, Lintz. I call the shots down here.”

“All right, be my guest. Call.”

“Well… yeah… I’ll patch through while we’re on the way.” Carl shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. “You’ve got the spec frequencies?”

Saul tapped his vest pocket. “Right here. Took all night.”

“This better work.”

“I hope it will.”

“Hope isn’t near good enough.”

“I can’t guarantee—”

“Listen, we’re down to a dozen, maybe fifteen able-bodied. They’re dropping faster than we can unslot ’em, I hear. I’m using men who’re groggy from work—like me—and women with noses running in their suits, coughing into tissues they’ve wadded under their chins. I mean…” He sucked in air, his eyes squeezed tight, expelled a tired breath. “It better work.”

Saul nodded sympathetically. “Ley’s go then.”

They met Jeffers and Sergeov and Lani in Shaft 3, where it had all started. The shaft was well lit so they could see to work, the phosphors glowing like regularly spaced advertisements along a dark highway that dwindled away into the yawning distance.

The party hung like dots of color, each suit a different primary, against the pink fiberthread background. From a lateral tunnel came a large, asymmetric bulk, towed by mechs. Three extras trailed.

—Virginia freed ’em up,—Jeffers said happily. —Makes it a whole lot easier for us now.—

“Yeah,” Carl said. He felt irked that Saul had gotten mechs quickly, without Virginia even asking for approval. And he hadn’t had any mech backup this whole damned shift, until brilliant Saul Lintz and his miracle cure came on the scene. “About time.”

I don’t suppose I’ll cry any if this doesn’t work, Carl thought, and then immediately rebuked himself. No, that’s stupid. You’re really getting worn down.

Jeffers must have been just as tired, but he grinned and wisecracked as he wrestled gear toward the target area. His angular face gave no hint of how he felt about being awakened into hell.