They kicked the idea around, and in the end decided that though it was technically feasible, the military types wouldn’t go for it because of the danger of interception. “The blockaders need supplies, too. They’ve been getting most of theirs by stealing ours. If they heard us pulling a supply vessel in, they’d just outshout us and bring the supplies to their doorstep. Or if we kept control and landed it, they’d be there first. It’d be hand-to-hand combat for possession. Are we ready for that?”

Colby decided they weren’t and tabled the idea. But it was only two days later when she called Titus into her office, wrapped the place in security shielding, and told him, “This is for your ears only, a job for your hands only. You were chosen out of your whole department because you’re the only one whose background check shows no ties with secessionist countries. Do I have your word you won’t confide in a soul?”

Mystified, he nodded. Background check!? Oh, Connie, sometimes you’re too thorough. “Darrell Raaj” had relatives in every one of the seceding nations. Titus kept his lips from twisting at the irony. “I take security seriously.”

“The secessionists have Goddard. They destroyed, captured, or crippled the other installations that can do these computations. Your computer is the last fully operational, wholly trustworthy, completely secure facility we have capable of this kind of precision.”

“What do you want me to calculate? Shimon-”

“No! You must do this with your own hands and wipe out all trace of its having been done. You must say not one word to anyone. All our lives may depend on it.” Titus saw the circles under her eyes, the aching fatigue dragging her down. “Besides, the whole thing was your idea to begin with.”

“My idea? I don’t understand.”

“When our first supply ships were hit by the blockade, you suggested unmanned ships, and you’ve been pushing for it ever since. I passed your idea on, but I thought it had been discarded. Only it hasn’t.” She wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist and ironed the frown off her face. “World Sovereignties is losing this war, Titus. We’ve lost so many computers we can’t fly orbital missions properly, which is why the blockade is nearly impenetrable. We can’t threaten them with the probe anymore. H’lim is doing all he can to supply us with proof of his value, but it will all be for nothing if the station dies.

“We need supplies, Titus. I haven’t let people know just how desperate we are, but I’m telling you. This is our last chance. This consignment must arrive or we’ll all die out here. And everything depends on you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Cargotainers, not ships-unmanned missiles, launched from Earth’s surface and aimed at us. If they hit us, they’ll act like bombs and will destroy the station. If they land close, but not on us, the W. S. will win the war because the secessionists are at the end of their resources, despite their victories. You can do it, Titus. It’s an elementary ballistics problem. The ”tainers will have simple correction jets for use in space, to compensate for unpredictable atmospheric effects on launch. They’ll be controlled from here by the Eighth Array.“

It was a simple problem. He had the programs. “I’ll need data-mass.”

She clapped a cassette onto the desk before her. “It’s all here. The timing-everything.”

He took it, hand trembling as he realized Connie would probably have blood aboard for him. By now, she had to be inside their security. He had been vomiting up the orl blood so violently, he’d begun to think seriously of accepting Inea’s offer of blood, which she repeated every time he had trouble. He gripped the data cassette in both hands and told Colby, “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

“There’s one other thing.” She checked the bank of meters and alarms in front of her, then raised her eyes somberly. “They’re protecting the supply missiles with a decoy. The missiles will be sitting ducks if spotted, so the plan is to keep the secessionists busy-” She broke off and leaned forward urgently, sweat showing at her hairline. “Titus, three men died bringing this information across the surface from Luna Station, on foot, because they didn’t dare broadcast it or attract attention with vehicles. We’ve got a leak on this station. If you breathe a word.”

A traitor. He wasn’t surprised. Between the rescues of crashed secessionists and now some W.S. messengers there could even be another assassin on the station. “I won’t say anything. Do I have to know about the decoy?”

“Yes. For the timing. It’s all there for you, but not the reasons why it has to be so precise. A surface convoy just like what they’ve been trying to get through to us will be timed to draw enemy fire just before the ”tainers are to arrive. The decoy will be loaded with explosives. The `tainers must arrive on time and on target. If they hit the station, we’re dead. If they hit too near the decoy which will be set to blow, we lose the supplies, the war, and our lives. The blockaders need supplies, too. They’ll be on that decoy to capture, not just destroy. This is a gigantic, tightly planned, high-precision operation. You can’t improvise. You can’t create or embroider. You must do precisely what you are instructed, exactly as demanded.

“Do you understand this, Titus? It all depends on you.”

“I can see that.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re ready to transmit the data. And don’t forget the time lag.”

He just looked at her.

Embarrassed, she grimaced. “Yes, well, everybody else forgets the time lag.”

He went to work on it immediately, and it wasn’t nearly as difficult as it sounded. The W.S. planners had in fact thought of everything, even the problems caused by computing on the moon and launching from Earth. They must have been planning this since I first suggested it. But he was also sure that the suggestion had been so obvious that others must have thought of it before he did.

Inea was curious about his activities, but he told her truthfully he was reopening communications with the Resident operatives who could ship him blood. Shimon hung over his shoulder until he convinced the Israeli that he was going over Wild Goose’s data again, just for the hell of it.

Then Abbot caught Titus dismantling the Eighth’s console in the observatory, getting ready to connect his black box. “Titus, what are you doing?” he demanded.

“Spying on you, what else?”

Abbot hunkered down to peer into the mechanism, hands dangling over his knees. “You don’t seem to have done any damage. Listen, whatever you do, don’t use the Eighth to send any sort of signal. I’m only getting fragments of messages because I haven’t been aiming the antennas, but I’m convinced that the blockaders believe the Eighth is dead. If anything moves out there, they’ll bomb it. If they pick up any kind of signal from it, they’ll bomb it. It’s too valuable to lose, Titus. Don’t risk it.”

“Do you really think they’d destroy something so valuable? I don’t believe they think it’s dead. They’ve decided to spare it because it’s the last operational one.”

Abbot studied Titus for a moment, then edged closer. “All right, listen. My-friends-among the blockaders have reported that the Eighth is dead, and so it’s being overlooked. After their triumphant destruction of the probe, the secessionists feel they are winning, Titus, and they are! If they take over, there will be no money for rebuilding your orbital observatories or Arrays or anything. We’ve got to save what we can, so don’t energize or aim the Array.”

“I understand the situation,” said Titus.

Two hours later, he had connected the Eighth console to his black box, slaved to the special channel they’d use to communicate with Earth.

At the first opportunity, Titus reported to Colby that Abbot believed the blockaders considered the Eighth dead. “I’m not so sure we should go ahead with this. We’ll have to aim and energize the Array twice, once to send the launch data, and once to correct the orbit. If Abbot’s right, it could cost us the Array and our only way of intercepting blockaders’ communications.”