"I suppose so." Conichiel's arms hugged her breasts, and Rissa thought, She is aging, and now her body shames her.

  But though she felt pity, she did not change her decision.

  K center was a short hop from D and less than fifty miles off their direct line of return. Rissa called Inconnu, left a message for Tregare, and got a relay to the Center. The man who answered looked anxious. Rissa said, "Inspection team, from Tregare. We will land inside the perimeter, near Division Female, Juvenile. Advise the gate guards that this landing is authorized." At his nod, she cut the circuit. And soon she pointed downward and said, "Ivan-that is the building, where I was."

  He landed beside it; the two disembarked. Groundside, she walked,slowly, thinking back-how many years, Earthtime? Almost seventy, since the small pigtailed girl had come to this place. Like a sleepwalker, she entered the blind concrete hulk, looking from side to side, passing offices whose occupants stared at her.

  As Ivan followed, habit found her way to the anteroom that administered Dormitory Eighteen. Inside, behind a desk sat a pale-haired woman, perhaps thirty. The woman said, "You're from Tregare? And who are you, please?"

  Unreality, disorientation-this room! Rissa suppressed laughter. Once begun, she could not have controlled it.

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  Carefully she said, "1 am the wife of Bran Tregare-but I once lived in this place. You supervise here?" A nod. "Your name?"

  "Lanice Teverin." The voice was soft. "Assistant supervisor, actually."

  "And in Dormitory Eighteen, Teverin, how many girls do you supervise?"

  "Only about forty, now-that's the average. We could put them on cots again, if Supply would release the cots."

  "You will have them by this evening. Ivan-make a note?" Her brother nodded, and Rissa said, "I would see these children."

  "Certainly." Teverin stood. "There's only three in the dorm itself right now-just back from the infirmary and still resting up from a flu bug. The rest are working or in the gym or the Tri-V room. Which do you want to see first?"

  "The three, I believe. Ivan-perhaps you had best wait here."

  Teverin led her down the short hall; she peered through the door's glass pane. Inside, three small jumpsuited stubble-headed girls sat in a close circle.

  "They are clothed. I had expected-"

  Lanice Teverin nodded. "The Adult Centers-I know. But here-with admissions getting fewer all the time-we have suits enough for years to come."

  She paused. "Would you look at that-what they're doing?"

  One girl held and rocked an armful of air; another imitated her, and then the third. Teverin said, "It's uncanny-this dorm-only this dorm, they all do that. And won't tell us what it's about."

  Vertigo struck. Rissa's hand caught at the door to keep her from falling. Breathing deeply, she fought for balance. She said, finally, "May 1 go in-and talk with them?"

  Teverin stared at her. "May you? I thought you were from Tregare."

  Rissa shook her head; now, again, she could think. "I meant-would my intrusion disturb the children?"

  "I wouldn't think so. Shall I come with you, or wait here?"

  "Wait, please." Rissa entered the dorm and let the door swing shut behind her. As one, the three looked up at her, stared a moment, then resumed their mutual preoccupation.

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  Rissa crossed the floor and sat beside them.

  From the corners of their eyes they looked at her, quickly, looking away again as soon as she caught their glances. She studied the one nearest her-thin of face and body, head crowned with light brown plush, age perhaps six. The child huddled over the emptiness she held, and crooned to it.

  Rissa reached a hand-not to touch that space but to define her question. "What's her name?" The child's eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  "Does she have a pretty name? You can tell me-because nobody can ever take her away from you. Remember?"

  "How did you know that?" It was another girl-darker, stocky. "Morna-don't tell her anything!"

  But the first child, Morna, smiled. "You had one, too!" Rissa nodded. "Then it's all right. Luseen-it's all right! She's not like them-she's different."

  "You sure?"

  "I am very different," said Rissa. "I believe in pretend dolls."

  Luseen gasped. "You won't tell?"

  Rissa shook her head. And Morna said, "Mine here-her name's Selene. There's always a Selene, you see-and now she's mine."

  Thank you, Uncle Voris-oh, thank you!

  only briefly, hugging all three children to her, did Rissa cry. Then she wiped her eyes, petted and patted and kissed the three, rejoined Lanice Teverin outside, and returned to the office. There, on a conference circuit, she gave orders to K Center's Director and to Albert Kybel. "Top priority is release and reunion of such children with surviving parents. For orphans, try to locate uncles, aunts, older siblings. Where no one can be found-"

  Lanice Teverin said, "If there's a way, outside of Welfare, that I could help with the lost ones..."

  On the circuit, Rissa said, "We will consider these matters further. But quickly."

  When the screen dimmed, she turned to Ivan. "How could I have forgotten what it is to be a child, alone in this place?"

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  they prepared to leave. Rissa said, "Ivan? Do you wish to inspect Division Male, Juvenile?"

  He tensed, then grinned and shook his head. "I'm a little too prejudiced to do the job right."

  ivan drove the scoutship hard-barely high enough to avoid damaging eardrums groundside-and berthed it neatly. He left for Graf Spee; Deverel and Kenekke entered Inconnu with Rissa.

  "If Tregare is in the galley, or in Control," she said, "tell him I will be in our quarters."

  But she found him there. After they kissed, he said, "1 held off dinner until you got here. You want it now, or fresh up first?"

  "You might send for it. I will not be long."

  And she was not. While they ate, she made her report. At the end he said, "You're right about the kids; I'll push that, too. For the rest-now we know some of the things to look for, Liesel can send teams to square up the other Centers. Meanwhile I'll amend my orders-put more teeth in them. These new teams, though-you were lucky at D, it could have gone wrong-they'll take more manpower and go fully armed."

  "If you wish-though I think that may cause more shooting than it prevents."

  "I'm more concerned that my people aren't the ones shot." He turned to the relay console and punched access to Control. "Now I want you to hear the Hulzein tape."

  "Only hear it? There was no picture?"

  "Sort of. The face is a blur-could be anybody."

  The screen lit; Rissa peered, then shook her head. It was a face: that was all she could tell. Then, harsh and wheezing, a voice spoke.

  "Cousin Tregare." Rissa's brows rose; Tregare nodded. "Lena Huizein speaking. In two days, at 1800 hours Greenwich time, you will meet me. At my Establishment outside Buenos Aires-the Kerguelen woman knows it. There'll be no more than ten of you in all, and no weapons brought inside. Be on time-I don't like to be kept waiting." Sound and screen died.

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  "She knows who you are, Bran-and I, also. Did you answer?"

  "Tried to-they just reran the tape, was all. And it didn't come over any channel you'd expect to originate in Argentina. Couldn't trace it, though."

  "The woman is not in good health. Her breathing-when her voice went thin-"

  "That's her doctors' problem. Mine is-where does she come off, giving me orders? I couid take Inconnu-or even a couple of scouts-and level the place, if 1 wanted to."

  "In all these years, UET has not done so. Perhaps-"

  Standing, bringing coffee to pour, Tregare shook his head. "No. She's not relying on physical defenses. I found in the records why the Committee never voted to wipe out the place. First, because Erika took out contingent New Mafia contracts on six Committee members-proved it-and wouldn't say which ones. And later, Tari Obrigo and Ce!e Metrokin-the Hulzein versions-had enough clout to keep the string loose." He gestured negation. "But I'm not using force-not yet, anyway. For one thing, Liesel still hopes to get cooperation, maybe even reconcile the two branches."

  Rissa sipped coffee, then her liqueur. "Is that possible, do you think?"

  "Peace, no! I think she's-well, not crazy, seeing it's Liesel-but optimistic as trying to fly a kite underwater. But she wants to give it a chance."

  "Well . . ." Rissa thought. "Lena Hulzein-assuming that voice was Lena-did not sound irrational. Only harsh, and arrogant-"

  "We'll see," said Tregare, "day after tomorrow. 1800 Greenwich-I don't know what time that is in Argentina but I know how long the flight takes, so i don't have to look it up. Because by our time here, that's noon."

  "And we have tomorrow to decide, and prepare."

  but later that evening another call came-again a repeated message, and no answer to questions. Rissa and Tregare listened to the recording.

  The voice was the same. "Lena Hulzein to Bran Tregare. I'm told that a ship lifted today."

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  Rissa looked inquiry; Tregare halted the tape to say, "Routine. Relief crew for the Mercury observatory." The tape began again.

  "There'll be no more such liftings without my specific approval until we've met and reached agreement. Listen carefully, Tregare-do not think to flout my orders. Because if you do-well, I don't think you'd care for the results." A rasping chuckle, and then; "That's all. Be here tomorrow, and be on time."

  There was no more. Frowning, Tregare shook his head. "What does she mean? What kind of threat does she think she's making, to give me orders like that?"

  Memory tugged at Rissa. She quoted aloud, "If Lena Hul-zein ever gets her hands on the Australian bomb, Earth may not be there when you arrive.''

  "What?"

  "Lircia Gavaine, the Underground woman-on Stronghold. She said that."

  "And you think-?" Tregare had gone pale; Rissa's own face felt numb.

  She fought with panic. "We cannot afford to assume it is not true. Bran-how can we-?"

  Now he rose and paced. "Give me a minute-this is too fast. If she-" He shook his head. "No. To think on this, peace love us, I need a drink!" Rissa gestured; he poured for her also.

  Now he sat again. "One thing she can't know, is ships' codes. I could give the alert-there's time, just barely, to put it together-all ships to lift at the hour we're due to leave for Argentina. Scoutships-low-level flights to round up our people-wouldn't give her any warning. And once in space we're out of reach."

  "And Earth, Bran? Still, she could-"

  "What good would it do her, once we're clear? Sour grapes? Sheer spite?"

  "But perhaps she has such spite! Gavaine said-"

  "Yeah." His shoulders slumped. "And even if she hasn't, we'd be leaving Earth in her hands, just as if we hadn't come here at all." A fist drummed the table. "And maybe on a bluff, at that-a lousy bluff!"

  Rissa nodded. "You are right, Tregare. We have taken

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  responsibility that we cannot abandon. We must meet with the woman."

  Now the fist beat into his other palm. "AH right, peace take it-we go!"

  "The others, Bran-do we tell them?"

  Before answering, he paused. Then; "I wouldn't think so. Because-Rissa, this curdles my spine, makes it hard for me to think straight. What good will it do to demoralize all of us?"

  She reached and grasped his hand. "It should not make me feel better, Bran, but somehow it does-to know that you are as frightened as I am." She squeezed the hand and released it. "Now-now that we have shared our fears-what can we plan to do?"

  Cheerless, his grin twitched. "I've been in this kind of trap before-just not on such a total scale, is all. I shouldn't let the difference throw me." Now he shrugged. "Well, there's no choice, really. We assume-we think on the basis that she really has the handle on Doomsday. That's so we don't make the mistake of crowding her too hard. But we talk and act-as long as we can-as if she's bluffing. And just maybe, push won't come to shove, after all." Head cocked to one side, he looked at her. "What do you think?"

  After a moment, she nodded. "Yes-that is best. And our own people will not have to think one way and behave another. Only we ourselves."

  "You know? Liesel's the one who could do it best. She's alt Hulzein."

  "Do not forget, Bran-so is Lena Diabla."

  the decisions in council, next morning, largely made themselves. Who should go? Tregare, Rissa, Hawkman, Liesel and Ivan. The latter suggested filling out the quota of ten with combat personnel, but Tregare said, "Five? What's the use? Lena can call on five hundred-five thousand, maybe. And armed."

  Ivan shrugged. "Then why goat all?"

  Deliberately, Rissa had put from her mind Lena's threat and its crippling terror; to all seeming, Tregare had done the same. Now Rissa said only, "Because, Ivan, we cannot ignore that place."

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  after the conference Tregare sent coded orders to Zelde M'tana and to Bernardez. "At worst, Rissa," he said, "we'll save some aces. Should have thought of this last night, but-" He grinned. "They'll have as many ships as possible ready to lift if I send warning. And so at least-well, maybe Number One will rename itself New Earth."

  "Bur why?" Coryle Hagenau almost screamed it. "Didn't I handle things all right before, here? Why should Ressider-?"

  Tregare's voice stayed level. "Ressider has Police administration under control but he doesn't know the details, and Flaer Letiken-the ex-Policewoman-can't do it all by herself. Rocklin Caine, your First Hat, had Police experience before he wangled transfer to space-he can't help a lot. So I want you and Ressider to switch assignments; that's all. You go relieve him so he can be here this afternoon. All right?"

  When Hagenau had gone, Rissa said, "I know you, Bran. What is your real reason?"

  They sat in Inconnu's Control. Turning back from a report he was reading, Tregare said, "Hagenau's getting temperamental again-throwing snitties, the way she did at first."

  "I remember. And I did not understand, and I still do not."

  His hand pushed air. "What I think-she is capable, but she hasn't got over the years under UET, working with no chance at command, and frustrated about it."

  "You mean, perhaps, much the same as-"

  "She's not Peralta again, no. But until she steadies down I'm not leaving her here in charge for me. Not while we deal with Lena Diabla."

  He handed her the report he had been scanning. "Look at this, will you? It came in through Markine, and if it says what I think it does-" He stood. "I'm going into the building, so I can try to reach the man that wrote it-without anyone guessing it's anything more than routine."

  He left; she began to read. She found it hard going; occasionally she repeated a phrase aloud. "-mass increase-velocity limit-our present parabolic, acoherent drive fields offer no solution-"

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  Equations filled the rest of that page; their form and content exceeded her grasp of mathematics so she turned to the next sheet. "Now then-" Again she spoke aloud, softly, trying by sound to reinforce what her eyes saw. "-ellipsoidal, coherent field-prolate spheroid-subject mass always at one focus-force directed toward the other-accelerations thus derived-"

  More equations-she did not pause for them. Now--"-the velocity-derived mass, expanding info parallel continua as shown in equation (34-c)-" No, skip that! She was near the end; the conclusion had to be stated soon. Here? "-aside from effects of the second order, magnitudes only approximately estimated-appears to be no theoretical limit to velocity."

  Well! She looked at the undersigned signature: Pennet Hoyfarul. Then she stared. The paper was dated twelve years past.

  "No, Bran-I do not understand the mathematics. But what else could it be?"

  Tregare swallowed the last of his sandwich and sipped whiskey. He stood and paced the length of Control, then sat again. "Faster than light! But like you say-if they had it, why sit on it a dozen years? I wish-my math's good enough for navigation and time fixes, but I can only see what he's maybe trying to do; that's all. Well, he'll be here this afternoon. We'll see."

  in Tregare's groundside office the three sat and talked. Pennet Hoyfarul, Rissa thought, had once been handsome-his long-ish gray hair still made an impressive mane. But the jowl wattles, moving as he talked or swallowed, spoiled the effect somewhat. He must have been fat for a long time, and cor-reeled it too late.

  "All right," Tregare said, as Hoyfarul helped himself again from the snack tray, "3 understand it that far, I think. When mass begins to build, these parallel continua of yours absorb the overload. Far as you're concerned, no increase, no tirne-dilation." Still chewing, Hoyfarul nodded. "So what happens

 

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