said. "Clean and whole and new. You are the most fortunate people of the ages."
"You too," she said.
He made a little gesture with one hand. "I'm only one man. There are ten thousand of you — minus one, I admit. You are the ones who will create this new world. It's yours to fashion as you see fit. I'm completely satisfied merely to be here, among you, and to help you in any way that I can."
Holly stared at him, feeling enormous admiration welling up within her.
"But Malcolm, you've got to help us to build this new world. We're going to need your vision, your..." she fumbled for a word, then ... "your dedication."
"Of course, I'll do what I can," he said. And for the first time, he smiled.
Holly felt thrilled.
"But you must do your best, too," he added. "I expect the same dedication and hard work from you that I myself am exerting. Nothing less, Holly."
She nodded silently.
"You must devote yourself totally to the work we are doing," Eberly said. "Totally."
"I will," Holly answered. "I already have, f'real."
"Every aspect of your life must be dedicated to our work," he insisted. "There will be no time for frivolities. Nor for romantic entanglements."
"I don't have any romantic entanglements, Malcolm," she said, in a small voice. Silently she added, Wish I did. With you.
"Neither do I," he said. "The task before us is too important to allow personal considerations to get in the way."
Holly said, "I understand, Malcolm. I truly do."
"Good. I'm glad."
And Eberly thought, Carrot and stick, that's the way to control her. Carrot and stick.
DEPARTURE Minus Two Hours
Eberly chose to stand with his back to the oblong window of the observation blister. Beyond its thick quartz the stars were swinging by slowly as the mammoth habitat revolved lazily along its axis. The Moon would slide into view, so close that one could see the smoothed launching pads of Armstrong Spaceport, blackened by decades of rocket blasts, and the twin humps of Selene's two buried public plazas, as well as the vast pit where workers were constructing a third. Some claimed they could even see individual tractors and the cable cars speeding along their overhead lines to outlying settlements such as Hell Crater and the Farside Observatory.
Eberly never looked out if he could help it. The sight of the Moon, the stars, the universe constantly swinging past his eyes made him sick to his stomach. He kept his back to it. Besides, his work, his future, his destiny was inside the habitat, not out there.
Standing before him, facing the window with apparently no ill effect, stood a short heavyset woman wearing a gaudy finger-length tunic of many shades of red and orange over shapeless beige slacks. Sparkling rings adorned most of her fingers and more jewelry decorated her wrists, earlobes, and double-chinned throat. Ruth Morgenthau was one of the small cadre of people the Holy Disciples had planted in the habitat. She had not been coerced into this one-way mission to Saturn, Eberly knew; she had volunteered.
Beside her was a lean, short, sour-faced man wearing a shabby pseudoleather jacket of jet black.
"Malcolm," said Morgenthau, gesturing with a chubby hand, "may I introduce Dr. Sammi Vyborg." She turned slightly. "Dr. Vyborg, Malcolm Eberly."
"I am very pleased to meet you, sir," said Vyborg, in a reedy, nasal voice. His face was little more than a skull with skin stretched over it. Prominent teeth. Narrow slits of eyes.
Eberly accepted his extended hand briefly. "Doctor of what?" he asked.
"Education. From the University of Wittenberg."
The ghost of a smile touched Eberly's lips. "Hamlet's university."
Vyborg grinned toothily. "Yes, if you can believe Shakespeare. There is no mention of the Dane in the university's records. I looked."
Morgenthau asked, "The records go back that far?"
"They are very sketchy, of course."
"I'm not interested in the past," Eberly said. "It's the future that I am working for."
Vyborg nodded. "So I
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