Vyborg, his tunic unbuttoned and hanging loosely from his spindly shoulders, rubbed his eyes, then took a sandwich from the tray.

“The scientists voted pretty much as a bloc,” he said, gesturing with the sandwich in his hand. “That’s surprising.”

“Why are you surprised?” Morgenthau asked. She had nibbled at a sandwich and left most of it uneaten on the coffee table. Holly wondered how she kept her size if she ate so delicately.

“Scientists are contentious,” Vyborg said. “They’re always arguing about something or other.”

“About scientific matters,” said Eberly. “But their interests are something else. They voted as a bloc because they all have the same interests and the same point of view.”

“That could be a problem,” Kananga said.

Eberly smiled knowingly. “Not really. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Holly followed their ruminations, fascinated, looking from one to another as they surgically dismembered the voting results. She realized that Morgenthau had designed the ballot to include information on the department the voter worked in and the voter’s specific occupation. Secret ballots, Holly thought, were secret only as far as the individual voter’s name was concerned. Each ballot carried enough information for detailed statistical analyses.

“We’re going to need a counterweight for them,” Vyborg said, between bites of his sandwich.

“For the scientists?” asked Kananga.

“Yes,” Eberly snapped. “It’s already taken care of.”

Morgenthau gave Holly her crafty look again. “What about this stuntman that you’ve been seeing?”

Holly blinked with surprise. “Manny Gaeta?”

“Yes,” said Morgenthau. “He’s had his arguments with the scientists, hasn’t he?”

“He wants to go down to the surface of Titan and they won’t allow that until they—”

“The surface of Titan?” Eberly interrupted. “Why?”

Holly explained, “He does spectacular stunts and sells the VR rights to the nets.”

“He’s extremely popular on Earth,” Morgenthau pointed out. “A vid star of the first magnitude.”

“A stuntman,” Vyborg sneered.

Eberly asked, “And he’s in conflict with the scientists?”

“They’re afraid he’ll contaminate the life-forms on Titan,” said Holly. “Dr. Cardenas is trying to help him—”

“Cardenas?” Vyborg snapped. “The nanotech expert?”

“Right.”

“How well do you know this stuntman?” Eberly asked her.

Holly felt a pang surge through her. “We’re pretty good friends,” she said quickly.

“I want to meet him,” said Eberly. “Make it a social occasion, Holly. I want to have dinner with the two of you. Invite Cardenas also. We’ll make it a foursome.”

Holly tried to mask the rush of emotions she felt. Jeeps, she thought, I finally get to go out to dinner with Malcolm but I’ve got to bring along the guy I’ve been sleeping with!

SATURN ARRIVAL MINUS 312 DAYS

Of the two restaurants in the habitat, Nemo’s was by far the more spectacular. Where the Bistro was small and quiet, with most of its tables out on the lawn, Nemo’s was plush and ambitious. The restaurant was designed to resemble the interior of a submarine, with curved bare metal walls and large round portholes that looked out on holograms of teeming undersea life. The proprietor, a former Singapore restaurateur whose outspoken atheism had gotten him into trouble, had sunk a fair share of his personal assets into the restaurant. “If I’m going to fly all the way out to Saturn,” he told his assembled children, grandchildren, and more distant relatives, “I might as well spend my time doing something I know about.” They were not happy to see the head of the family leave Earth — and take so much of their inheritance with him.

Holly felt distinctly nervous as she followed the robot headwaiter to the table for four that she had reserved. Gaeta had offered to pick her up at her apartment, but she thought it better that they meet at the restaurant. She was the first to arrive, precisely on time at 20:00 hours. The squat little robot stopped and announced, “Your table, Miss.” Holly wondered how it decided she was a Miss and not a Ma’am. Did it pick up the data from her ID badge?

She sat at the chair that allowed her to look across the room at the entryway. The restaurant was not even half filled.

“Would you care for a drink?” the robot asked. Its synthesized voice was warm and deep. “We have an excellent bar and an extensive wine list.”

Holly knew that that was an exaggeration, at best. “No thanks,” she said. The robot trundled away.

Eberly appeared at the entryway, and Kris Cardenas came in right behind him. She wore an actual dress, a knee-length frock of flowered material, light and summery. Holly suddenly felt shabby in her tunic and tights, despite the sea-green shawl she had knotted around her waist.

She stood up as the two of them approached. Neither of them realized they were both heading to the same table, at first, but Eberly caught on quickly and gallantly held Cardenas’s chair for her as she sat down. As Holly introduced them to one another she found herself hoping that Manny wouldn’t come. Maybe he got tied up on something, some test or whatever. She barely paid attention to the conversation between Eberly and Cardenas.

Then Gaeta appeared, wearing a formfitting mesh shirt and denims. No badge. No decorations of any kind, except for the stud in his earlobe. He didn’t need finery. Heads turned as he strode to their table well ahead of the robot headwaiter.

Except for the fluttering in her stomach, the meal seemed to go easily enough. Gaeta knew Cardenas, of course, and Eberly acted as their host, gracious and charming. Conversation was light, at first: They talked about the recent voting and Gaeta’s previous feats of daring.

“Soaring through the clouds of Venus,” Eberly said admiringly, over their appetizers. “That must have taken a great deal of courage.”

Gaeta grinned at him, almost shyly. “You know what they say about stunt people: more guts than brains.”

Eberly laughed. “Still, it must take a good deal of both guts and brains.”

Gaeta dipped his chin in acknowledgment and turned his attention to his shrimp cocktail.

By the time the entrees were served, the topic had turned to Gaeta’s intention to get to the surface of Titan.

“If Kris here can convince Urbain and his contamination nuts that I won’t wipe out their chingado bugs,” Gaeta complained.

Cardenas glanced at him sharply.

“Pardon my French,” he mumbled.

“I thought it was Spanish,” said Holly.

Eberly skillfully brought the conversation back to Urbain and his scientists. Gaeta grumbled about their worries over contaminating Titan, while Cardenas shook her head as she talked about their fears of runaway nanobugs.

“I can understand where they’re coming from, of course,” she said, “but you’d think I’m trying to create Frankenstein’s monster, the way they’re hemming me in with all kinds of safety regulations.”

“They’re overly cautious?” Eberly asked.

“A bunch of little old ladies,” Gaeta said.

Holly asked, “Manny, have you thought any more about going through the rings?”

With a shake of his head he replied, “I haven’t heard anything from that Nadia. She said she’d look into it.”

“I’ll call her,” Holly said. “Maybe she forgot.”

By the time dessert was being served, Eberly was suggesting, “Perhaps I can help you with Dr. Urbain. I have direct access to Professor Wilmot; I can make your case for visiting Titan’s surface.”

Then he added, turning to Cardenas, “And for easing some of the restrictions on your nanotechnology lab.”

“It’s not the restrictions, so much,” Cardenas said earnestly. “I can live with them. I understand why they’re scared, and I even agree with them, up to a point.”

“Then what is your problem?” Eberly asked.