“It’s too late to change it now,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, even. “The people vote on it in three weeks.”

Morgenthau said, “You could withdraw it. Say it needs further work.”

“Withdraw it?” Despite his self-discipline, Eberly nearly shouted the words. “That would mean we’d have to postpone the election.”

Morgenthau said nothing.

How can I get her back on my side? Eberly asked himself. How can I make her see that she’d be better off following my orders than the stupid commands from Earth?

“Listen to me,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, bending his head closer to hers. “In three weeks the people will vote. They’ll accept this constitution for the very same reasons that you distrust it: Because it promises individual freedom and a liberal, relaxed government.”

“Without any rules for population control. Without any moral standards.”

“Those will come later, after the constitution is adopted and we are in power.”

Morgenthau looked totally unconvinced.

“As I’ve explained more than once,” Eberly said, straining to hold on to his swooping temper, “once I’m in power I’ll declare a state of emergency and suspend all those liberal laws that bother you.”

“How can you declare a state of emergency if everyone is satisfied with the constitution?”

“We’ll need a crisis of some sort. I’ll think of something.”

Morgenthau’s face looked as hard as steel. “You were taken out of prison and placed in this habitat to form a proper, god-fearing government. You are not living up to your end of the agreement.”

“That’s not true!” he protested. Inwardly, a panicky voice whined, They can’t send me back to prison. They can’t!

“All we need to do is generate a crisis,” he said aloud. “Then Kananga and his security teams can clamp down.”

“It won’t be that simple,” Morgenthau said. “The more power you give Kananga the more he will seize control of everything. I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I,” Eberly admitted, silently adding, I don’t trust anyone.

“And then there’s this Cardenas woman, working with nanomachines. They’re the devil’s spawn and yet you allow her to go right ahead and do her evil in our midst.”

“Only until I’m in power,” Eberly said.

“She’s got to go. Get rid of her.”

As Eberly nodded somberly, the solution to his problems suddenly struck him with the blinding force of a revelation. Yes! he said to himself. That will solve everything!

He made a warm smile for the still-scowling Morgenthau and, leaning forward, patted her chubby knee. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.”

Her frown faded somewhat, replaced by curiosity.

“Trust me,” Eberly said, smiling still more broadly.

LABORATORY LAVOISIER

Kris Cardenas wondered why Urbain had asked her to meet with him. Not in his office, not even in the astronomy pod, where the big telescopes were housed. Here in the science building, in his main laboratory, which had been named for the eighteenth-century French founder of modern chemistry, Antoine Laurent Lavoisier.

Cardenas’s own lab (named after the American physicist Richard P. Feynman) was in a separate building, up at the top of the ridge on which Athens was built, as far away from the other labs as possible. As she made her way down the bricked path that curved past the low, white-walled apartment buildings and shops of the village, Cardenas felt the old resentment against unreasoning fear of nanotechnology still simmering deep within her.

Keep it under control, she warned herself. Keep everything in perspective. Remember that Lavoisier was beheaded during the French Revolution. Idiots and bastards have always been in our midst.

So she put on a sunny smile as she entered the lab complex and saw Edouard Urbain standing in the doorway to his laboratory, waiting for her. He looked nervous. No, Cardenas decided, not nervous. Excited. Expectant. Almost like a little boy standing in front of the Christmas tree, eager to tear into the brightly wrapped packages.

“Dr. Cardenas!” Urbain greeted her. “How good of you to come.”

“It was good of you to invite me,” she replied.

He ushered her into the lab. Cardenas was slightly taller than Urbain, her sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes a sharp contrast to his dark, slicked-back hair and eyes of mahogany brown.

The lab was two stories tall, its bare metal ceiling the underside of the building’s roof. A tall screen stood just inside the doorway, cutting off the main area of the lab from view. The place felt to Cardenas like an airplane hangar or an empty warehouse. With a slight gesture, Urbain led Cardenas along the screen toward its end.

“I wanted you to see this,” he said, his voice brimming with anticipation. She thought his moustache would start quivering any moment. “I am very proud of what we have accomplished.”

They reached the end of the screen. With a flourish, Urbain turned the corner and pointed to the massive object standing in the middle of the laboratory floor.

The first thing that Cardenas noticed was that the lab had been cleaned, the floor swept. Not a scrap of paper or equipment in sight. No wires snaking across the floor or dangling from overhead mounts. He’s spiffed up his lab, Cardenas thought. He’s got it looking like an old automobile showroom.

“There it is,” Urbain said, aglow with pride. “Titan Alpha.”

A spacecraft, Cardenas realized. More than two meters tall; nearly three, she estimated. Standing on a pair of caterpillar treads, like an old-fashioned tank. Massive. Silvery-gray. Titanium, she guessed. Its oblong body was studded with projections.

“It has been built here, completely,” Urbain said, almost in a whisper. “It did not exist when we left Earth. None of it. My staff and I constructed it.”

Cardenas became aware that half a dozen men and women were standing off along the far wall of the lab, like students who had been lined up and told to remain quiet and respectful.

“You’ll go to the surface of Titan in this,” Cardenas said.

“Not in person, of course,” said Urbain. “Alpha is designed to be teleoperated from here in the habitat. It is a mobile laboratory that will explore the surface of Titan for us.”

“I see.”

Urbain snapped his fingers; one of the technicians across the lab whirled and began tapping out instructions on a desk-sized console. The spacecraft seemed to stir. A loud electrical hum filled the lab and a pair of long, skeletal arms unfolded from one side of its body. Pincerlike claws opened and shut. Cardenas instinctively moved back a couple of steps.

Urbain laughed. “Don’t be afraid. She won’t harm you. Those grippers can handle the most delicate biological samples without damaging them.”

“It’s… very impressive.”

“Yes, isn’t she? Alpha is equipped with a complete array of sensors. She can take samples, store them in insulated capsules and send them back to us, here in the habitat, for analysis.”

“Won’t it return after it’s finished its mission?”

“No. Never. She remains on Titan. We will send replenishments of fuel and supplies for its sensors.”

“Isn’t it nuclear powered?” Cardenas asked.

“Of course! The fuel is necessary for the sample-return rockets.”

“I see.”

Urbain sighed contentedly. “I haven’t had as much time to spend on this project as I would have liked. My hours are consumed with this political campaign, you know.”

Cardenas nodded. “Yet you’ve completed the job. It’s a great accomplishment.”

“I am blessed with a fine staff.”

Afraid that Urbain would order the bulky spacecraft to start trundling across the laboratory floor, Cardenas said, “I’m very grateful that you asked me to see it.”

She started toward the door, slowly. Urbain caught up with her in two strides.