He had let the frowns and scowls build; now he defused them. Quiverian was red as a beet, opening his mouth. Carl cut him off.

“Of course, Earth Control might get a bit miffed…”

They looked at each other, blinked, and guffawed. Their laughter released some of the long-building tension. Of course Earth would never allow a plan that brought Halleyform spores that near the atmosphere. Even Quiverian relaxed slightly, when it was clear that Carl had not been serious.

“There are other alternatives to Jupiter,” Carl continued. “We could try for Venus— jump off in aeroshells, decelerate in the upper atmosphere. But that’s after perihelion again, and we might not survive slamming into that atmosphere at eighty kilometers a sec or so.”

He swept the room with a long, penetrating gaze. Cap’n Cruz would’ve done this right, he thought. Or maybe he would’ve stopped all this factionalism long ago. I’ll never be the leader he was.

“On the other hand, there is an encounter that’ll get us to a planet before perihelion, and at lower velocity— one with Mars.”

A stir of disbelief. “Mars?”

“You mean target… ?”

“I didn’t know it could even be…”

He went on swiftly, not giving anyone a chance to break in.

“Look. We can’t allow a single faction to control our destiny—”

“And we will not allow use of the south pole unless we have control!” Quiverian shouted.

Carl held his palms up, open. “Okay. That means we have to abandon the Jupiter flyby totally. The next best mission demands a pass into the inner solar system, but not coming near Earth. Instead, we can vector the Nudge to Mars. The encounter itself won’t divert Halley much— but it’ll give us a chance to jump off.”

Some engineers shook their heads. Carl kept on going, before the objections could begin.

“We’ll build aerobrakes and swoop into the Martian atmosphere. It’s thin but deep, a good target for us, especially since an encounter with any planetary atmosphere will be awful damn fast.”

A spacer asked, “We could lose enough velocity on one pass?”

Sharp question. “No. We’d have to do several maneuvers.” He ticked off fingers. “Aerobrake at Mars, divert outward to Jupiter. Aerobrake again there with a gravity assist. Pass inward to Venus, swing around, head for Mars again. By then we’ll have shed enough velocity to make a successful rendezvous brake in the Martian atmosphere. We can get out of the aero shells, come alongside Phobos.”

A long silence. They stared at him.

“But…” Keoki Anuenue muttered. “How long will all that take?”

“Twenty years.”

Gasps.

Carl rode over the babble with, “That’s twenty added to the nearly eighty we’ll have been gone. But it will be worth it to get to Phobos Base, to safety and maybe eventually, home again. I should add that this plan has the approval of Earth Command.”

A Plateau Three woman said angrily, “What’ll happen to Halley?”

Carl shrugged. “JonVon shows it wheeling off into the outer system, back to its original home in the Oort Cloud, gone for good.”

Jeffers said thoughtfully, “We could target Halley smack on Mars— give it an atmosphere!”

“Sure,” Sergeov said, “and try aerobraking at same time. Impossible!”

Jeffers began, “But—” He shut up as he noticed Carl’s signal to be quiet.

“It’s a chance to live,” Carl said emphatically. “If we try the aerobrake and guide Halley to optimize that. Anything else is suicide.”

“What can we expect at Mars?” Quiverian demanded suspiciously.

“Quarantine. Maybe Earth’ll order us isolated on Diemos. Let the medicos study us until Earth is sure these diseases are controllable.”

Another long silence. They all contemplated this new idea, letting it sink in.

“Is possible?” Sergeov asked, scowling.

Carl shrugged. “We might never be allowed into Earthspace— not that that’ll bother the Ubers, eh? Remember, though, that there are decent places to live in the small scientific colonies of the asteroids. Maybe we can even do some worthwhile pioneering on Mars itself.”

Jeffers beamed. “Damn right.”

Carl held up his hand. “One more thing. Earth Command is very strong on this plan. It has made acceptance a condition for getting the Care Package.”

That got to them. The high-speed rocket carrying supplies was the centerpiece of their fresh hope. They had to have it.

Carl realized that the hardest part had been won.

He explained further with some graphics JonVon had whipped up with only minutes’ warning. The Council listened with glacial but growing acceptance. At least it seemed the idea was possible.

Complicated, yes. Difficult and risky, yes. But possible.

And perhaps the only possibility.

Carl remained standing. He kept his mood grave but sympathetic, determined but flexible. And one by one, the factions voiced their own narrow views.

The Plateau Threes disliked throwing away hard-won Halley…but they were used to taking their lead from him.

The Ubers grumbled, but admitted they had no other option.

Jeffers and the few Percell spacers who had clung to their dream of Mars terraforming were overjoyed. They would get to work near Mars, perhaps start the greening of that arid rustworld.

The Arcists weren’t totally happy. They distrusted Carl. But this option kept Halley far from Earth. And the sanction of Earth Control lent it weight.

Through it all Carl felt the dark undercurrent of Percell and Ortho running, but muted now by the constricted, bleak future they faced. The largest part of the crew belonged to a group he called the survivors— because in the end, that was all they cared about.

Quite sensible, he thought ruefully. And I’m their natural ally… even though I don’t believe we’ll ever really get out of this alive…

He watched the sloop run before the wind, her sails big-bellied and impossibly white, her bow cutting the water sharp and sure.

And gradually, reluctantly, the factions came around.

The Council broke up at last with grudging agreement. They would try to reach Mars.

Carl sat down at last, feeling a sudden fatigue sweep over him.

The Arcists are right. They can’t trust me. I know this Mars business isn’t going to pan out right, but it’s politically necessary right now. Necessary in order to prevent a civil war. In order to get the Care Package. The hard truths can come later.

He shook his head.

I’m turning into a goddamn diplomat. I don’t think like a spacer anymore, not even like an engineer. Christ!—I’ll be wearing black tie and tails next. And when I look in the mirror thetongue I see will be forked.

The machinery was starting to look old. The original glossy finish had faded long ago, until it was hard to read the names of the equipment manufacturers anymore. They had been rubbed nearly illegible after thirty years of faithful scrubbing.

Ozymandias, my secret hideaway. Virginia glanced over in the back corner of the lab, where little Wendy sat patiently, drawing a small trickle of power from a wall socket. The tiny maintenance mech peeped once and started to rise, but when Virginia said nothing it settled down once more.

Funny, how you didn’t notice things for a while, and then they suddenly hit you. It had been almost two years, Earth time, since Virginia had been thawed and returned to duty, yet in all that time she had not once paid the slightest attention to Wendy. She had been too busy.

Now she contemplated the little mech, bemused.

Thirty years. She’s cleaned and tended and guarded my sanctuary, keeping things just as I left them.

Maybe Saul is right. Maybe I do good work.

She smiled.