"Actually, we posit nothing of the sort—only that there are varieties of intelligent forms. For a civilization at this stage of development, the moms tell us speciation is not a useful concept. Biological forms, if any, may be entirely artificial and arbitrary."

Hakim sipped from a bulb of water and continued. "The second planet is very different from the first. It possesses no fuzziness and perhaps few if any tethered structures, yet has a dense atmosphere of carbon dioxide and nitrogen, high in water vapor, maintained at a steady planet-wide temperature of eighty-five degrees centigrade."

"Why?" Hans asked, frowning.

"To provide a different habitat, perhaps," Luis suggested.

"The planets are quite different, as if designed for some particular environment or function. To highlight the most interesting, the fourth is not a rocky world, nor a gas giant, but we do not know what it actually is. I once thought it might be a brown dwarf, but that makes no sense now. It has an enormous surface area covered by what appears to be a thin atmosphere of carbon dioxide and oxygen and argon, and an actual solid surface—a lithosphere, which would have to be artificially stabilized. The lithosphere may float on a fluid core, but the surface temperature is remarkably warm, twelve degrees centigrade, which would point to internal heating."

"All right," Hans said. "Why do they have lots of different environments?"

Silken Parts rustled his cords before speaking. "In we our records, we we see and smell of many species developing intelligence in a local area, and creating great communities. They are not common. They exist, but."

"It's all deception," Hans murmured. "Why worry about it?"

"If it is not deception…" Hakim said, lifting his hands.

Hans laughed. "We've faced nothing butdeception from the Killers from the very beginning. This is perfect—something to make us hesitate, lose confidence. It's just goddamned perfect."

Stonemaker rustled now, then coiled and uncoiled. A single cord disengaged from his tail and crawled out the door. Eye on Sky retrieved and bagged it; it squeaked plaintively. "I we beg pardon," Stonemaker said. An odor of something akin to embarrassment—fresh salt air with seaweed. Minor spontaneous disengagement was not uncommon for the Brothers, but discomfiting if noticed.

"Think nothing of it," Hans said. "I detect a conspiracy here. Not just Hakim… does somebody else think this isn't a blind?"

Stonemaker rustled again. Clearly, something irritated the Brother. "The ship must be cautious, or I we is a Killer attitude."

Hans knit his brows.

"We must not rush into blind judgment," Hakim said.

Hans looked around the schoolroom, flabbergasted. "We're seriously thinking the Killers aren't here after all? This is what's really here—a zoo of cultures, cooperating and prosperous, waiting for us to just drop in and visit?"

"The deception is incredibly dense," Hakim said.

"We know of no such deception succeeding over vast periods of time," Silken Parts said.

Hans' face reddened. Rex started to say something, but Hans cut him off with a raised hand. "So we should vote again… pass judgment again."

"Yes," Stonemaker said. "All our crews."

"I'm for that," Hans said, stretching cat-like. "Anything to build consensus. When?"

"After much more seeing," Silken Parts suggested. "Much more research."

"We have time," Hans said. "Meanwhile, we should begin drills and exercises. I'd like Martin, Paola Birdsong, Ariel, Giacomo, and… Martin, you choose three others. I'd like all of you to go through the libraries and find whatever precedent there is. Make a case. You'll be defense. Hakim, you take Jennifer, Harpal, Cham, and three others, and prepare a case for prosecution. Stonemaker, I'm not yet familiar with the way your legal system works, but I think something similar should be done by the Brothers. Then we'll bring the entire crew together, humans and Brothers, and judge."

Silken Parts gave off an odor of wet clay. Stonemaker said, "We we will regroup, assemble Makers of Agreement, make a decision."

"Grand," Hans said. He looked at Martin. "We need to talk," he said. "Alone."

They went to Hans' quarters, passing four Brothers and five humans as they exercised in a corridor. The humans tossed balls to the Brothers, who passed them along their backs from cord to cord and flipped them with their tails. The contest—a kind of football—was desperately uneven; the Brothers were winning handily, and the humans cheerfully shouted their complaints.

"Competitive, aren't they?" Hans said. He opened the hatch to his quarters. Within, Martin saw a room as spare as his—except for vases of flowers. Rosa's touch. Hans lay on a pad and motioned for Martin to get comfortable.

"You've been quiet lately," Hans said. "I should be grateful…"

"Why grateful?" Martin asked.

"That you're not screaming your head off. The ex-Pans don't approve of my style, do they?"

Martin didn't answer.

"Ah," Hans said, nodding. "There it is."

"Not really," Martin said softly. "Every leader finds fault with the next in line. I argued with Stephanie."

"Never mind," Hans said, dismissing the subject with a wave. He stared up at the blank ceiling, as if talking to someone far away. "Harpal has resigned. I need a second—let's not use the name Christopher Robin any more, all right?"

"Fine," Martin said.

"Rex is loyal as hell, but I need somebody critical right now. A balance. Cham grates on me as much as Harpal. I keep coming back to you."

"Why?" Martin asked.

"Because when you keep quiet, I wish you'd talk. If you're my second, it'll be your duty to talk to me, and I won't wonder what you're thinking. Besides, Stonemaker already acts as if you're next in command. Might as well make it official."

Martin sat on the bare floor, crossing his legs. "That doesn't seem reason enough."

"I said it before, I'll say it now; you weren't responsible for the Skirmish going wrong. Nobody could have seen it coming. We got away. We did what we came to do. I think you got blamed for all the wrong reasons."

"I don't worry about it," Martin said.

"You lost someone you loved."

"More than one," Martin said.

"I think you were perhaps the best Pan we had, or at least a close match with Stephanie. She was hot, she had guts. You were quiet and deliberate. I'm flying on instinct through a thick fog. You know what my problems are."

Martin took a deep breath.

"We're friendly with the Brothers. That's a relief. They scared the hell out of me, just looking at them the first time. That cord crawling on Cham…" Hans chuckled. "I would have wet my pants. I think they're good for us. But they're different, too. They screwed up royally in battle. They hesitated, they gave the Killers every benefit of the doubt… And they're going to do it again. I can just smell it coming from Silken Parts and Stonemaker. They see this blind, this big cooperative solar system, all bustling and peaceful… And Christ, Martin, they want to hugthe slicker, not kill it."

"We can work around that," Martin said.

"Can we?" Hans turned to glare at him.

"I think so," Martin said.

"But you agree it's a blind."