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probably not be considered for the very best yacht clubs, such as those—for instance—sponsoring the race now being broadcast.
    So he had postponed his decision about whether to become a yachtsman, hoping that his association with Fleet Commander Enderby would serve his purposes equally well. Now that his gesture in aid of Enderby’s life seemed to have triggered nothing but Enderby’s loathing, perhaps it was time to reconsider the yachting strategy again.
    Martinez looked at the display, drank it in. The race, though broadcast “live,” was actually delayed by twenty-four minutes, the length of time the telemetry signals took to travel from Vandrith to Zanshaa.
    â€œCadet Chatterji,” Martinez said, “can you elucidate the strategy displayed by racer number two?”
    Chatterji licked her lips. “Elucidate, my lord?”
    Martinez sighed. “Just tell us what the pilot is doing.”
    Racer Two’s craft—the display did not offer the name of the pilot, and Martinez didn’t recognize the flashy scarlet paint job on the craft—had just rotated to a new attitude and fired the main engine.
    â€œShe’s decelerating, my lord,” Chatterji said.
    â€œAnd why is she doing that, Chatterji?”
    â€œShe’s d—dumping delta-vee in order to—to—” She licked her lips. “—to maneuver better,” she finished lamely.
    â€œAnd what maneuver is this deceleration in aid of?”
    Chatterji’s eyes searched the display in desperation. “Delta-vee increases options, my lord,” she said, a truism she had learned in tactics class, and clearly the first thing to leap to her mind.
    â€œVery true, Chatterji,” Martinez said. “I’m sure your tactics instructor would be proud to know you have retained a modicum of the knowledge he tried to cram between your ears. But,” he said cheerfully, “our pilot is decreasing delta-vee, and therefore decreasing his options. So tell me why, Cadet Chatterji. Why?”
    Chatterji focused very hard on the display but was unable to answer.
    â€œI suggest you review your basic tactics, Cadet Chatterji,” Martinez said. “Persistence may eventually pay off, though in your case I doubt it. You —worm there—” Addressing the cadet whose name he didn’t know.
    â€œParker, lord.”
    â€œParker. Perhaps you can enlighten Chatterji concerning our pilot’s tactics.”
    â€œShe’s dumping delta-vee in order to be captured by V9’s gravity.” He referred to Vandrith’s ninth moon, the innermost counting as number one. The Shaa didn’t go in much for naming astronomical objects in interesting or poetic ways.
    â€œAnd why is she entering V9’s gravity well, Parker?”
    â€œShe’s planning to slingshot toward the satellite near V11, lord.”
    â€œAnd number four—that would be Captain Chee—” He recognized the blue and silver paint job. “Why is she not dumping delta-vee? Why is she accelerating instead?”
    â€œI—” Parker swallowed. “I suppose she’s trying another tactic.”
    Martinez sighed deliberately. “But why , worm, why? The display should tell you. It’s obvious. ”
    Parker searched the display in vain, then Cadet Foote’s languid tones interrupted the desperate silence.
    â€œCaptain Chee is accelerating, lord, because she’s intending to bypass V9 entirely, and to pass between V11 and the satellite to score her point. Since V11 possesses an atmosphere, she’ll probably try to use atmospheric braking in order to dump velocity and make her maneuver to tag the satellite at the last minute.”
    Martinez rounded on Foote and snapped, “I don’t recall asking your opinion, Cadet Foote!”
    â€œI beg the lord’s pardon,” Foote drawled.
    Martinez realized to his dismay that Foote had just succeeded in making