"I hope those abandoned by your shining ship will take it so philosophically." Decker spat. "Scientists. Answer me this. Will this adventure work? Could the passengers of the Bridge actually survive a passage around the Core, and then through space to the new nebula? We're looking at a very different set-up from Rees's original idea."

Rees nodded slowly. "We'll need supply machines, whatever compressed air we can carry in the confines of the Bridge, perhaps plants to convert stale air to—"

"Spare me the trivia," Decker snapped. "This absurd project will entail backbreaking labor, injury, death. And no doubt the departing Bridge will siphon off many of mankind's best brains, worsening the lot of those left behind still further.

"If this mission does not have a reasonable chance of success then I won't back it. It's as simple as that. I won't shorten the lives of the bulk of those I'm responsible for, solely to give a few heroes a pleasure ride."

"You know," Hollerbach said thoughtfully, "I doubt that when you — ah, acquired — power on this Raft you imagined having to face decisions like this."

Decker scowled. "Are you mocking me, Scientist?"

Hollerbach closed his eyes. "No."

"Let's think it through," Rees said. "Hollerbach, we need to transport a genetic pool large enough to sustain the race. How many people?"

Hollerbach shrugged. "Four or five hundred?"

"Can we accommodate so many?"

Hollerbach paused before answering. "Yes," he said slowly. "But it will take careful management. Strict planning, rationing… It will be no pleasure ride."

Decker growled, "Genetic pool? Your five hundred will arrive like babies in the new world, without resources. Before they breed they will have to find a way of not falling into the Core of the new nebula."

Rees nodded. "Yes. But so did the Crew of the original Ship. Our migrants will be worse off materially… but at least they will know what to expect."

Decker drove his fist into his thigh. "So you're telling me that the mission can succeed, that a new colony could survive? Hollerbach, you agree?"

"Yes," Hollerbach said quietly. "We have to work out the details. But — yes. You have my assurance."

Decker closed his eyes and his great shoulders slumped. "All right. We must continue with your scheme. And this time, try to foresee the problems."

Rees felt a vast relief. If Decker had decided otherwise — if the great goal had been taken away — how would he, Rees, have whiled away the rest of his life?

He shuddered. It was unimaginable.

"Now we face further actions," Hollerbach said. He held up his skeletal hand and counted points on his fingers. "Obviously we must continue our studies on the mission itself — the equipage, separation, guidance of the Bridge. For those left behind, we have to think about moving the Raft.»

Decker looked surprised.

"Decker, that star up there isn't going to go away. We'd have shifted out from under it long ago, in normal times. Now that the Raft is fated to stay in this Nebula, we must move it. And finally…" Hollerbach's voice tailed away.

"And finally," Decker said bitterly, "we have to think about how to select those who travel on the Bridge. And those who stay behind."

Rees said, "Perhaps some kind of ballot would be fair…"

Decker shook his head. "No. This jaunt will only succeed if you have the right people."

Hollerbach nodded. "You're right, of course,"

Rees frowned. "… I guess so. But — who selects the 'right' crew?"

Decker glared at him, the scars on his face deepening into a mask of pain. "Who do you think?"

Rees cradled his drink globe. "So that's it," he told Pallis. "Now Decker faces the decision of his life." Pallis stood before his cage of young trees, poked at the wooden bars. Some of the trees were almost old enough to release, he reflected absently. "Power brings responsibility, it seems. I'm not certain Decker understood that when he emerged on top from that joke Committee. But he sure understands it now… Decker will make the right decision; let's hope the rest of us do the same."

"What do you mean, the rest of us?" Pallis lifted the cage from its stand; it was light, if bulky, and he held it out to Rees. The young Scientist put down his drink globe and took the cage uncertainly, staring at the agitated young trees. "This should go on the journey," Pallis said. "Maybe you should take more. Release them into the new nebula, let them breed — and, in a few hundred shifts, whole new forests will begin to form. If the new place doesn't have its own already…"

"Why are you giving this to me? I don't understand, tree-pilot."

"But I do," Sheen said.

Pallis whirled. Rees gasped, juggling the cage in his shock.

She stood just inside the doorway, diffuse starlight catching the fine hairs on her bare arms.

Pallis, with hot shame, felt himself blush; seeing her standing there, in his own cabin, made him feel like a clumsy adolescent. "I wasn't expecting you," he said lamely.

She laughed. "I can see that. Well, am I not to be invited in? Can't I have a drink?"

"Of course…"

Sheen settled comfortably to the floor, crossing her legs under her. She nodded to Rees.

Rees looked from Pallis to Sheen and back, his color deepening. Pallis was surprised. Did Rees have some feeling for his former supervisor… even after his treatment during his return exile on the Belt? Rees stood up, awkwardly fumbling with the cage. "I'll talk to you again, Pallis—"

"You don't have to go," Pallis said quickly.

Sheen's eyes sparkled with amusement.

Again Rees looked from one to the other. "I guess it would be for the best," he said. With mumbled farewells, he left.

Pallis handed Sheen a drink globe. "So he's carrying a torch for you."

"Adolescent lust," she said starkly.

Pallis grinned. "I can understand that. But Rees is no adolescent."

"I know that. He's become determined, and he's driving us all ahead of him. He's the savior of the world. But he's also a bloody idiot when he wants to be."

"I think he's jealous…"

"Is there something for him to be jealous of, tree-pilot?"

Pallis dropped his eyes without reply.

"So," she said briskly, "you're not travelling on the Bridge. That was the meaning of your gift to Rees, wasn't it?"

He nodded, turning to the space the cage had occupied.

"There's not much of my life left," he said slowly. "My place on that Bridge would be better to go to some youngster."

She reached forward and touched his knee; the feeling of her flesh was electric. "They'll only invite you to go if they think they need you."

He snorted. "Sheen, by the time those caged skitters have grown, my stiffening corpse will long since have been hurled over the Rim. And what use will I be without a tree to fly?" He pointed to the flying forest hidden by the cabin's roof. "My life is the forest up there. After the Bridge goes, the Raft will still be here, for a long time to come. And they're going to need their trees."

She nodded. "Well, I understand, even if I don't agree." She fixed him with her clear eyes. "I guess we can debate it after the Bridge has gone."

He gasped; then he reached out and took her hand. "What are you talking about? Surely you're not planning to stay too? Sheen, you're crazy—"

"Tree-pilot," she snapped, "I did not insult you on the quality of your decision." She let her hand rest in his. "As you said, the Raft is going to be here for a long time to come. And so is the Belt. It's going to be grim after the Bridge departs, taking away — all our hope. But someone will have to keep things turning. Someone will have to call the shift changes. And, like you, I find I don't want to leave behind my life."

He nodded. "Well, I won't say I agree—"

She said warningly, "Tree-pilot—"