Anvil of Stars Read Online Free PDF Page B

Job and they all took it seriously.
    Martin called Hakim forward. Hakim used his wand to display the group of three close stars and what information they had. He concluded with the analysis of planet deaths near the group.
    "We have to make a decision to launch remotes," Martin said. "We can gather a lot more information with a wide baseline. We also become a little more conspicuous. Our first decision is whether to take the risk now…"
    "The moms should let us know what they think," Ariel Hawthorn said from across the schoolroom. "We're still not being told everything. We can't make final decisions before we know…" Ariel Hawthorn did not appear to like Martin; Martin assumed she did not like any of the Lost Boys, but he knew very little about her sexual tastes. She was irritable and opinionated; she was also smart.
    "We shouldn't waste time on that now," Martin said.
    "If we're going to make a decision that involves risk, we can't afford to be wrong," Ariel pursued.
    Martin hid his exasperation. "Let's not—"
    "You're only going to be Pan this watch," Ariel said sharply. "The next Pan should have a say, as well."
    "If we make the judging on this watch, Martin will be Pan until we finish the Job," Hans reminded her.
    Ariel shot a withering look at Hans. "We should select a new Pan to lead us into the Job," she said. "That should be our right."
    "That's not procedure. We're wasting time," Hans said softly.
    "Fuck you, Farley!" Ariel exploded.
    "Out," Martin said. "Need a Wendy to second the motion."
    "Second," said Paola Birdsong, lifting large calm eyes.
    "One hour in the wormspaces," Martin said.
    Ariel shrugged, stretched with a staccato popping of joints, and climbed out of the schoolroom.
    "You'll talk with her after, won't you?" Paola asked softly, not pushing.
    Martin did not answer for a moment, ashamed. Pans should be calm, should never discipline out of anger. "I'll tell her what we decide," he said.
    "She has to decide, too. If it's a close vote, you'll ask her for her opinion, won't you?"
    "Of course," Martin said. He did not think it was going to be a close vote. They were all impatient; this was a strong suspect.
    "You'll work out your differences, won't you?" Paola pursued. "Because you're Pan now. You can't be out with her. That cuts."
    "I'll talk," Martin said. He lifted the wand again. "We know enough to decide whether to release remotes. We can do the figuring ourselves. And I think we should all do it now."
    The math was complex and did not guarantee an absolute answer. The possibility of detection when they issued the remotes—very slight at this distance—had to be weighed against the probability that this group contained the star or stars they were looking for.
    Martin closed his eyes and ran through the figures yet again, using the techniques the moms had taught him, harnessing their inborn ability to judge distances and speeds, algorithms normally not accessible to the intellect, but far more powerful than higher, conscious calculation. The children had decided to call the new techniques momerath, suggested by Lewis Carroll and, some claimed, short for Mom's Arithmetic Math.
    Martin blanked all thoughts and fell into contemplation of a convergence of spaces and planes, saddles and hills, balls rolling across territories and joining in colored pools.
    What Martin visualized when he had finished his momerath, almost as clearly as if his wand projected it, was the group of three stars and a synoptic of the most important local stars. Systems that had been exploited by outside visitors flashed bright red; systems that had probably been explored, but not altered, flashed hot pink; systems showing no signs of external interference flashed green. Ships of the Law did not show up in the mental picture. They never did; the moms could not know where they were.
    The children finished their momerath within minutes of each other. Jennifer Hyacinth and Giacomo Sicilia opened their eyes and glanced at Martin