Part 2 (1/2)

”Hundred-meter parabolic mirrors,” he said. ”Easy to make; you spray a thin metallic coat on a plastic backing. They're in orbit around us, each with a small geegee unit to control drift and keep it aimed directly at the sun. The focused radiation charges heavy-duty acc.u.mulators, which we then collect and use for our power source in all our mobile work.”

”Do you mean you haven't any nuclear generator?” asked Warburton.

He seemed curiously intent about it. Blades wondered why, but nodded.

”That's correct. We don't want one. Too dangerous for us. Nor is it necessary. Even at this distance from the sun, and allowing for a.s.sorted inefficiencies, a mirror supplies better than five hundred kilowatts, twenty-four hours a day, year after year, absolutely free.”

”Hm-m-m. Yes.” Warburton's lean head turned slowly about, to rake Blades with a look of calculation. ”I understand that's the normal power system in Stations of this type. But we didn't know if it was used in your case, too.”

_Why should you care?_ Blades thought.

He shoved aside his faint unease and urged Ellen toward the dome railing. ”Maybe we can spot your s.h.i.+p, Lieutenant, uh, Miss Ziska.

Here's a telescope. Let me see, her orbit ought to run about so....”

He hunted until the _Altair_ swam into the viewfield. At this distance the spheroid looked like a tiny crescent moon, dully painted; but he could make out the sinister shapes of a rifle turret and a couple of missile launchers. ”Have a look,” he invited. Her hair tickled his nose, brus.h.i.+ng past him. It had a delightful sunny odor.

”How small she seems,” the girl said, with the same note of wonder as before. ”And how huge when you're aboard.”

Big, all right, Blades knew, and loaded to the hatches with nuclear h.e.l.lfire. But not ma.s.sive. A civilian s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p carried meteor plating, but since that was about as useful as wet cardboard against modern weapons, warcraft sacrificed it for the sake of mobility. The self-sealing hull was thin magnesium, the outer sh.e.l.l periodically renewed as cosmic sand eroded it.

”I'm not surprised we orbited, instead of docking,” Ellen remarked.

”We'd have b.u.t.ted against your radar and bellied into your control tower.”

”Well, actually, no,” said Blades. ”Even half finished, our dock's big enough to accommodate you, as you'll see today. Don't forget, we antic.i.p.ate a lot of traffic in the future. I'm puzzled why you didn't accept our invitation to use it.”

”Doctrine!” Warburton clipped.

The sun came past the blind and touched the officers' faces with incandescence. Did some look startled, one or two open their mouths as if to protest and then snap them shut again at a warning look? Blades'

spine tingled. _I never heard of any such doctrine,_ he thought, _least of all when a North American s.h.i.+p drops in on a North American Station._

”Is ... er ... is there some international crisis brewing?” he inquired.

”Why, no.” Ellen straightened from the telescope. ”I'd say relations have seldom been as good as they are now. What makes you ask?”

”Well, the reason your captain didn't--”

”Never mind,” Warburton said. ”We'd better continue the tour, if you please.”

Blades filed his misgivings for later reference. He might have fretted immediately, but Ellen Ziska's presence forbade that. A sort of Pauli exclusion principle. One can't have two spins simultaneously, can one?

He gave her his arm again. ”Let's go on to Central Control,” he proposed. ”That's right behind the people section.”

”You know, I can't get over it,” she told him softly. ”This miracle you've wrought. I've never been more proud of being human.”

”Is this your first long s.p.a.ce trip?”

”Yes, I was stationed at Port Colorado before the new Administration reshuffled armed service a.s.signments.”

”They did? How come?”