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to invite you all to come visit me up on Hawkins’s Pavilion.”
    “Your orbital pleasure dome?” Melanie smiled slyly. “Don’t forget that I work for Cable News, Colonel, and you’ve agreed to an interview.”
    “How could I forget? And I promise you a tough interview, Melanie. But I hope you’ll bring your family along.”
    “Mom, you swore you’d never go into orbit again,” Rick said.
    “That was before Colonel Hawkins agreed to go on-camera.”
    “Come to meeting!” Vincent Guindelle called. “All gather for meeting.”
    “We’ll talk later,” Melanie said. “Why don’t you take a seat by Vincent onstage. He’ll introduce you.”
    The room quieted. Youngsters who had been levitating settled slowly to the ground. Impromptu discussions tapered off. In groups of twos and threes clan members and nonmutants drifted toward seats, until the auditorium was full. At least a hundred people were present, two thirds of them mutants.
    “Please join with me now,” Guindelle intoned. “Take hands, please. Take heart. All here are welcome.”
    And he lifted a giant book into place and began to read:
    ***
    “And when we knew ourselves to be different,
    To be mutant and therefore other,
    We took ourselves away,
    Sequestered that portion of us most other,
    And so turned a bland face to the blind eyes
    Of the world.
    Formed our community in silence, in hiding,
    Offered love and sharing to one another,
    And waited until a better time.
    A cycle in which we might share
    Beyond our circle.
    We are still waiting.”
    ***
    From within the crowd, a male voice piped up. “May the wait soon be over.”
    The wait? Hawkins wondered. What wait?
    “Join with us now and share,” Guindelle said, shutting his eyes.
    Hawkins felt himself swept, unwillingly, into a fantastic communion. A hundred souls swirled around him, each intent upon matters of personal importance, each muttering and counting, singing and sighing, a chorus in his brain, a swelling, soaring melody that carried him upward and out of himself, beyond his own private concerns into a warmth he had never dreamed existed, a comfort deeper than that of a mother’s arms. No wonder, he thought. No wonder so many sought out the mutants. For warmth. For solace. Yes. He closed his eyes and soared.
    ***
    Reluctantly, Julian came out of the sharing and opened his eyes. Back out in the cold again. He blinked. Around the room, his relatives, his clan members, and all the assembled strangers stirred sluggishly as the communal awareness receded.
    A sharp pain in his side jolted him. Rick was elbowing him.
    “Who is that?”
    “Who?”
    “The girl with all that hair sitting next to Uncle Skerry,” Rick whispered.
    Julian saw her for the first time. A tall, slender, young woman with high cheekbones, full lips, and a wild mane of black, curling hair. Delicate, pale skin with just a hint of green to it. Pretty. More than pretty, really.
    “I think that’s Alanna.”
    “No lie? Skerry and Narlydda’s kid?” Rick’s mouth hung open for a moment. “I remember her as a spoiled brat.”
    “That was three years ago,” Julian said. “You haven’t exactly been a regular at these meetings, you know. But I think she’s probably still pretty spoiled.”
    “She’s gorgeous!”
    “Thought you didn’t go for mutant girls,” Julian said, and felt an odd twinge of jealousy. Well, she was beautiful. And Julian didn’t share his brother’s bias against mutant women.
    “Always room for change,” Rick said. He started to get up, intent on Alanna, but Vincent Guindelle fixed him with a sharp look until he sat down again.
    “We’ll open the business part of the meeting by welcoming Colonel Ethan Hawkins,” Guindelle said. “He’s requested the opportunity to make a presentation concerning space colonization, specifically, the system of L-5 satellites.”
    Hawkins rose. He smiled briefly, taking in the assembled group. “Thank you, Vincent.” His voice was deep and