“And I can guess why.” Senta was nodding. “Did you ever hear of diseases called Cancer crudelis and Cancer pertinax?”

Rob shook his head. “What do they mean?”

“I don’t know what the words mean,” said Senta. “But they—”

“Ruthless cancer, and persistent cancer,” Howard Anson said. “That’s taking a literal translation. Sorry for interrupting, Senta, but when you have a rubbish heap for a mind, the way I do, you have to use it when you can.”

She smiled at him tolerantly. “You have your uses, Howard. No need to prove that to me. Anyway, Rob, they are two forms of cancer, as you might have guessed.”

“Old diseases?” suggested Rob. “I assume they were once killers, the way that most forms of cancer used to be killers.”

“That’s the difference.” Senta was leaning forward, her manner more lively. “They are not old diseases. They still exist. Very rare, but they are two of the only forms of the disease that can’t be cured — and they are both killers. Darius Regulo doesn’t have scar tissue on his face from the solar fly-by. What he has is cancer pertinax. It’s the rarer form, and it is very slow-growing. But it can’t be stopped, and it can’t be reversed. He has had it getting on for fifty years. It will get him in the end, in spite of the treatments and the operations. He had it already when I first met him, and it was just beginning to get noticeable. That was the main reason why he had to move off Earth — his system couldn’t take full gravity once the cancer had taken firm hold. I doubt if Darius will live to be ninety. You see, the disease acts as a double killer. Apart from the direct effects and the disfigurement it causes, it has a side effect that inhibits the effects of any rejuvenation treatments on the sufferer. They simply won’t work on someone who already has the disease established in his system.”

“That means he’ll lose more than half his life.” Rob thought suddenly of Regulo’s powerful and fertile mind, imprisoned behind the ruined face in a failing body. “Do you realize what a tragedy that is? I don’t just mean a personal tragedy — though it’s that, of course. I mean a loss to everyone. He’s one of the great men of the century. And I’ve never heard him ever complain that he is sick, only that he gets tired easily. He still has more energy than you’d believe, once he starts to work on a problem that interests him.”

“Ah, but you should have known him thirty years ago,” said Senta. She smiled at Anson. “Don’t misunderstand me, Howard, but thirty years ago, before the sickness took a hard hold on him, Darius was a superman. He had the energy of ten ordinary people, for work or for play. It was close to frightening. I never met anyone who had half his lust for life, and I met most of the dynamos, the men and women who make the System run. I know you think he’s something special now, and I’m sure he is; but he’s only a shadow of what he was. The disease is getting him, little by little.”

“You say there’s no treatment for it?” asked Rob. “Not even to slow it down?”

“Oh, there are treatments for both crudelis and pertinax.” Senta shook her dark head. “That’s one of the ironies of it. Joseph Morel found a treatment for cancer crudelis that is effective in every case tried so far. It’s used all the time, and it is called the Morel treatment. But that’s the wrong disease. It is cancer pertinax that Regulo suffers from, and Morel’s regime does not work for that. He tried various forms of it, but when the drugs are used on humans they produce deadly long-term side effects. There’s a subtle difference between the two forms of disease. I’m sure that Morel’s still working the problem, but from what you say about Regulo’s appearance there hasn’t been any breakthrough.”

“Don’t count Morel out too soon,” said Anson. He was lying back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve seen a good deal of his background, and he’s not just bright, he’s brilliant. And in one way at least he’s like Regulo — or like you, Rob, from what I’ve seen. Once he starts to pursue an idea, he never stops until he has it sorted out.”

“I had that impression, too.” Rob shrugged. “I don’t know how Morel operates, but all I do is follow up on things that interest me, wherever they lead. Maybe that’s why I don’t care for Morel. We want to chase after different goals, whereas Regulo and I are interested in many of the same things.”

“You’ve seen his desk?” Senta asked Rob. He nodded. “He had that thirty years ago,” she went on. “He was just starting to put those strange sayings into the top of it. He said he was building in his philosophy. I’d like to see what he has there now, see if he’s changed at all in thirty years.”

She shook her head, looking back over the years again, this time without the power of the drug. “What was it? Rockets are wrong. He put that motto in there, the first one of all. He was just starting to build Atlantis. I didn’t realize then that he meant to make it into a private world, one that he could retire to and leave the rest of the System to do what it liked. And now you two have the beanstalk, his answer to rockets after all this time. Howard is right, Regulo doesn’t give up easily.” She was looking at Rob with a different expression, seeing something in him that had not been visible before. “Be careful, Rob. Don’t overdo it. It’s good to have goals for yourself, but it’s bad to let them become obsessions. Darius is an addict to something as strong as taliza: he can’t bear to lose. Don’t let that rub off on you.”

Rob frowned. Senta was striking very close to home. “I’ll try not to. I know what you’re telling me, but I’ve always done things as hard and as well as I could. Stopping that wouldn’t be easy.”

“I know.” She took Rob’s right hand in hers and ran her finger lightly over the surface. “Don’t over-compensate for these, Rob. You’ve proved that you’re as good as anyone with natural hands, long ago. I spoke to Cornelia yesterday, and she says you’ve been working continuously, ever since you first met Regulo. Don’t forget that work can be an addiction and a form of escape, too.”

“I won’t overdo it.” Rob noticed that a faint trembling had returned to Senta’s hands. They were hotter than his own. “Corrie and I are going to take a break from work tonight and go over to Naples for a day, before we have to head for Quito and Tether Control. I know that you respect Regulo, but now I see there are some things about him that you don’t approve of. How do you feel about Corrie working for him? Some of the jobs he gives her are pretty strange ones — like telling her to go and collect me and bring me out to meet him in orbit. She has a lot of responsibility for her age. Did you introduce her to Regulo in the first place?”

Senta stared at Rob wide-eyed. Rob reached over and poked Anson in the ribs. The other man sat up, took one look at Senta and reached at once into his pocket.

“Come on, dear,” he said. “Time for a sedative. Thanks, Rob.”

“I’m all right,” Senta said. She was still staring at Rob. “I don’t know what you and Cornelia have been doing in all the time you’ve spent together. But didn’t she tell you anything about herself?”

“What’s the problem?” said Anson. He had lifted Senta’s bare arm and was holding a tiny vapor-injector against it. “I wasn’t listening. What did Corrie tell Rob?”

“It’s what she apparently didn’t tell him that has me surprised.” Senta let Anson move her over to the bed. “Rob, you’re so wrapped up in your work you don’t notice some things at all. Regulo and I lived together for more than five years. What do you imagine that we were doing all that time, designing rockets? When you meet Cornelia tonight, take a good look at her. Look at her eyes, and the shape of her forehead. She’s my daughter, and she uses my name — but she’s Darius Regulo’s daughter, too. I raised her, but I couldn’t keep her on Earth. As soon as she was old enough, she went off to Atlantis. Didn’t she tell you any of that?”