Hands trembling, Swan took the one marked for her and tore it open. Two little data tabs fell out. One of them was murmuring, “Swan, Swan, Swan.” Swan put it to her ear, her teeth clenched, tears starting to her eyes.

“My dear Swan, I am sorry you are hearing this,” Alex’s voice said. It was just like hearing a ghost, and Swan clutched her hands over her chest.

The little voice went on: “Very sorry, in fact, because if you’re hearing this, it means I’m gone. My room AI has heard about my death, and it knows to open this box if you come in here alone. It’s the best plan I could think of. Sorry to intrude on you like this, but it’s important. This is kind of an insurance policy, because I’ve got some things going on that need to continue even if I die, and I don’t want to tell anyone else here about them. And really at our age you can go any time, so I’m setting this up. If you’re hearing this, I need your help. Please take the envelope for Wang out to Io and give it to him in person. Wang and I and a few others are working on a couple of very important projects together, and we’ve been trying to keep completely offline with them, which is very difficult to do when we live so far apart. You can help me hugely by taking him his envelope. But please keep the matter entirely to yourself. Also, if you would let your Pauline read the other chip in your envelope and then destroy the chip, that would serve as a secure backup. They both are one-reads. I hate to do even this much. But I know you don’t usually link Pauline to other qubes, and if you would keep it that way, it would be better for our plan. Wang will explain more to you, as will Wahram from Titan. Good-bye, my Swan. I love you.”

That was it. Swan tried to listen to it again, but it was inert.

She put the other tab up to Pauline’s membrane, in the skin at the base of her neck. When Pauline said “Done” she put the inert tabs and the two remaining envelopes into her pocket and went to find Mqaret.

He was in his office, poking around in a 3-D image of what looked like a protein. “Look what I found,” Swan said. She explained what had happened.

“That box was locked,” Mqaret said. “I knew it was her jewelry, and I figured I would run into the key some time or other.”

He stared blankly at his envelope, seeming in no hurry to open it; possibly even a little afraid of it. Swan let him be, went out of the room. “Pauline,” she said after she left, “you got the contents of that tab?”

“Yes.”

“What was on it?”

“I am instructed to convey the information to Wang’s qube, on Io.”

“But tell me just generally what’s on it.”

Pauline did not reply, and after a while Swan cursed her and turned her off.

Both tabs were now inert; Alex’s ghost had departed. Swan was not entirely sorry. The shock of hearing Alex’s voice speaking to her was still causing her to tremble.

She went back into Mqaret’s office. He was white-faced, his mouth a little knot. He looked up at her.

“She gave you something to take to Io?”

“Yes. Do you know what it’s about?”

“No. But I do know Alex had an inner group of especially close associates. Wahram was one of them, and Wang too.”

“And what were they up to?”

Mqaret shrugged. “She spared me that kind of thing. But I could see she thought it was important. Something about Earth, I think.”

Swan thought it over. “If it was important, and she was keeping things off the record, she would have known her death might cause problems. So she left us these little recordings.”

“It was like her ghost,” Mqaret said shakily. “She spoke to me.”

“Yes,” Swan said, unable to say more. “Well… I guess I’m going to take the third envelope she left to Io, like she told me to.”

“Good,” Mqaret said.

“Wahram already asked me to go out there, now that I think of it. And he kept asking if she left us anything for him.”

Mqaret nodded. “He was part of it.”

“Yes. And that inspector too. So I guess I’ll go. But I don’t think I want to tell him about these messages. Alex didn’t say anything about that.”

“He may guess, just by the fact you’re going.”

“Let him guess.”

Now Mqaret regarded her with a sympathetic squint. “You’re going to have to figure things out as best you can. You may even have to step in and do some of the things Alex would have done.”

“How can I do that? No one can do that.”

“You don’t know. Pauline will help you, and maybe this Titan of yours also. And if you have to act in Alex’s place—she would have liked that.”

“Maybe.” Swan was not so sure.

“Alex will have had a plan. She always did.”

Swan sighed, lanced again by the thought of Alex’s absence. These ghostly messages were not even close to an adequate replacement for her. “All right, then. I’ll go out to see this Wang.”

“Good. And be ready to act.”

Swan found out where the offworld diplomats still in town were staying, went to the terrace where the Saturnian delegation had been housed. When she entered the courtyard of the place, she immediately came on Wahram, head down as he conferred with the little police inspector, Jean Genette. The sight of the two of them together gave her a shock, and something in their body language said they were well acquainted. Co-conspirators, by the look of them.

Cheeks burning, Swan approached them. “What’s this?” she demanded. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

Neither of them at first replied.

Finally the small waved a hand. “Fitz Wahram and I often work together on various system issues. We were just now deciding to visit a mutual acquaintance.”

“Wang?” Swan said. “Wang of Io?”

“Why… yes,” the inspector said, looking up at her curiously. “Wang is an associate of ours, as he was of Alex. We were working together.”

“As I mentioned to you,” Wahram said in his low croak. “When we were coming back from Tintoretto.”

“Yes, yes,” Swan said sharply. “You asked me to join you on that trip, without really explaining why.”

“Well…” The toad man’s broad face was looking a little discomfited. “It’s true, but you see, there are reasons to be discreet….” He looked down at Genette as if hoping for help.

“I’m going,” Swan said, interrupting their glance. “I want to go.”

“Ah,” Wahram said with another quick glance at Genette. “Good.”

Extracts (1)

Take an asteroid at least thirty kilometers on its long axis. Any type will do—solid rock, rock and ice, metallic, even ice balls, although each presents different problems.

Attach a self-replicating excavator assembly to one end of the asteroid, and with it, hollow out your asteroid along its long axis. Leave the wall at least two kilometers thick at all points except for your entry hole. Assure the interior integrity of the wall by coating it with a dura of suitable strength.

As your assembly hollows the interior, be aware that ejection of the excavated material (best aimed toward a Lagrange salvage point, to collect the salvage fee) will represent your best chance to reposition your terrarium, if you want it in a different orbit. Store excess ejecta on the surface for later use.

When the interior is hollowed out, leaving an empty cylinder at least five kilometers in diameter and ten kilometers long (but bigger is better!), your excavator assembly will return to the access hole and there reconfigure itself into your terrarium’s propulsion unit. Depending on the mass of your new world, you may want to install a mass driver, an antimatter “lightning push” engine, or an Orion pusher plate.

Beyond the forward end of the cylinder, on the bow of your new terrarium, attach a forward unit at the point of the long axis. Eventually your terrarium will be spinning at a rotational rate calculated to create the effect of gravity on the inner surface of the interior cylinder so that when you are inside, you will be pulled to the floor as if in a gravity field. This is the g equivalent, or gequivalent. The forward unit will then be connected to the bow of the terrarium by a geared axle, to allow the forward unit not to spin but instead to stay fixed. It will be nearly weightless in this bowsprit chamber, but many functions of the terrarium will go better without the spinning, including docking, viewing, navigating, etc.