"So where is this Phoenix now?" Alex demanded.

"In a hangar on what used to be Edwards Air Force Base in California. It's been preserved as a reminder of Big Bad Science, just like the Space Center here. Actually, I think the military may have had ideas they could use it. They didn't have the money to fix it, but they never throw anything away either. It's out there 'as a monument.' People are supposed to go out and be scandalized; but… When I was there, a lot of the tourists had tears in their eyes."

"Probably for all the money that was wasted," said Fang sarcastically.

Steve nodded. "Truer than you think. I shed a few myself at the waste. That's where I met Hudson. They've got him conducting the tour."

Bruce jumped. "Himself? Why--"

"I thought the Single Stage Experimental Lifter was never finished," Thor said belligerently. "They proxmired the whole space program. They even outlawed private ventures, like Hudson's."

"That's what Gary said when I took the tour," Steve agreed. "SSX Phoenix was never finished. Just flew the once. Never fly again, he said. Over and over. One thing, though."

"What's that?" asked Bob.

Steve sighed and smiled dreamily. "It seats ten."

Sherrine felt her heart begin to pound. Seats ten, she thought. Seats ten. "Never finished," she said. "Phoenix is too big to hide. Hah!"

"Hah?" Mike said.

"Bottle shop," she said. " 'Explorers in the high desert keep bottle shops.' "

Smiles began to form. Bruce said, "Ah. A bottle shop sells miracles, and is not what it seems…"

"And the proprietor of a bottle shop usually lies. So what do we have? A rocket ship, in plain sight, and Gary Hudson who helped design the bird makes sure he tells everyone that it can never fly again." And it seats ten! It seats ten!

"I do not believe it," Gordon said. "It is one more goose to chase. A chimera."

"Me, either," Thor said. "People, it's been fun, but I am not chasing off to California after another rocket ship."

"So what do we do with the Angels?" Bruce asked.

Thor shrugged. "Not my problem. The Con's over. You're Chairman. You take care of the pass-on. You don't need Fang and me for that. Time for us to move on--"

Fang said, "Guests are my responsibility."

Thor shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"We all have places to be," Bruce said. "Except you and Fang. Steve, how are you getting back to California?"

"Amtrack. I have a ticket. Don't think I can get anymore. Maybe they'll be watching the stations anyway."

Harry had been uncharacteristically quiet. "Jenny and me, were headed that way. Maybe we could steal another bike--"

"We have a little money," Bruce said.

"Yeah, but--" Harry shook his head. "It's a rough trip, riding double. Don't think the Angels would make it."

Gordon laughed. "Nor do I, Harry!"

"It's all crazy anyway," Alex said. "You know where there is a ship. Single stage to orbit, seats ten. Assume it works, that unlike that ancient Titan, it has been well maintained. I don't believe it, but assume that. It will need-I'm guessing-half a million pounds of fuel? Liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen. They don't leave that stuff lying around."

There was no answer.

"Fine. You don't have the foggiest notion of how to get the fuel, or how to move it if you did--"

"Details," Mike said.

"Dreams," Gordon said.

"I'm with Gordon," Alex said. "Look, we are very grateful, but it is time to give up the dreams. We have to look for ways we can hide. Forever, I guess."

Silence descended within the Brown household. Presently Mike Glider said, "We can get you ID, I think. Permanent convention guests. God knows fans will help."

"Given ID," Bruce said. "Sherrine?"

"If I lose my job--and I will if I'm not back tomorrow morning--there won't be anything I can do." It's just a dream. A dream that seats ten. Oh, damn--

"Then we have to get you back to Minneapolis. Fast," Bruce said. "That needs working on. Meanwhile, can they hide here? Oliver?"

Brown nodded eagerly. "I would be honored. I suppose you won't mind telling me about life in space?"

"OK," Bruce said.

But what if I don't want to go back? Oh, that's crazy. Let them find a way. I go home, I go back to my job. I get Ted on-line and we work out the ID. And I go back to work, doing what I always did, my neat career and I have some memories.

"Sherrine's not the only hacker in fandom," Steve said conversationally.

They all looked at her. "Yes, of course," she said. "There's Ted Marshall. And--"

"And?" Mike demanded.

"RMS himself," Sherrine said. "Nobody knows anything but his initials. Ever hear of emacs?"

"The programmer's editor? Sure, I use it," Bob said.

"He wrote it."

"Could he arrange fake ID for the Angels?" Bruce asked.

Sherrine nodded. "If it can be hacked, he can hack it."

"Would he?"

"For space pilots? Oh, yes."

"Why don't we know him?" Mike asked.

"Oh, RMS has been wanted forever," Sherrine said. "Since before the Greens took over! He used to come to Worldcons, but--well, he doesn't stand out in a crowd. Doesn't want to."

"So how do you contact this RMS?" Bruce asked.

Sherrine shrugged. "A million ways. It's just a question of getting the word out on the net. The Legion of Doom will see it and--"

"I used to think I understood you people," Alex said. "Legion of Doom--"

"Super hackers. They--well, they're pretty good, and not always responsible. Some are fans, some aren't. But they listen to RMS, and he's a fan--they'll let him know we want him. The question is, will he believe us? Everyone's after RMS. Pick his brains, jail him, reeducate him, study him in psych labs, he's an odd fish and--"

"Easy," Bob said.

She tried to smile. "Yes, we could get him to do it. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. RMS and Marshall, they can do it if anyone can." It doesn't have to be me. I don't have to sticky myneck out. I can crawl back under my covers.

"So what do we do now?" Bruce said.

"Don't know about you," Harry said. "I've got a message for the merry soul."

"Then what?" Alex demanded. "Why should we care what that crazy man says?"

"He was one hell of a man, once," Thor said.

"A hell of a man who got his brains burned out," Alex said. Strain in his muscles was making him irritable. "So what happens? He tells us another story, and we end up in another stupid chase across the country, more crazy aldermen, cheese trucks, people with guns--"

"Alex, it was not so bad," Gordon said.

"What?"

Gordon shook his head. "Was not fun, then; but think of the stories we tell now. Bed races. Dancing on ice."

Oliver Brown chuckled. "Sure you're not a writer?"

"I wish to be. I have written… minor things. But it was not survival-oriented task, so…"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what will happen. Not my job to know what will happen. I know what I was told to do."

"Resent what Wade said, don't you?" Jenny said.

Harry glared at her.

"True, though," she said. "Everybody knows it. Deep down, you do."

Harry tried to grin. "You didn't have to say it."

"Sure we did. I'm still with you, eh? You must do something right--" She caught herself. "Anyway, we got our job straight. Go tell Cole it's time to see what free men can do--oops."

"Yes?" Bruce prompted.

"Without the Angels, why is it time?"

Bruce nodded to himself. "All right, we should all go see Cole."

"Not me," Thor said. "You guys carry them. I'm not going back there."

"That does present a problem," Mike said.

"Maybe not," Bruce said. "Harry--Harry, go find Cole, and bring him here. Make sure you re not followed."