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Diana Heywood said, "I know you people have your own agendas,

and that's finethat's the nature of the beastbut if you

complicate these matters because of corporate politics, I will

become very difficult."

Gonzales said, "I have no intention of being a problem."

"Well," she said.  "Maybe you won't be."  She turned to him.

"But remember this:  you're just doing your job, but the stakes

are higher for me.  Aleph, Jerry, and Iwe've known each other

for years, and I've got unfinished business up there.  Also, I

want to get back in the game."

"I don't understand."

"Sure you do, Mister Gonzales.  You're in the game, have been

for years, I'd guess. Unless I'm seriously mistaken, it's what you

live for."  She laughed when he said nothing.  "Well, I've done

other things, and for a long time I've been out of the game, but

I'm ready for a change.  Silly SenTrax bastardsmanipulating me

with their calls, sending you  oh yeah, you're part of it, you

remind me of Jerry years ago, if you don't know that."

"No, I didn't."

"It doesn't matter.  Their machinations don't matter.  They

want to convince me to come to Halo?"  She laughed.  "My past is

there, when I was blind and Aleph and I were linked to one another

in ways you can't imagine  and I found a lover I'd wish to find

again.  Come to Halo?  I'd climb a rope to get there."

#

Gonzales had flown into McAuliffe Station once before, though

he'd never taken an orbital flight.  In the high Nevada desert,

the station stayed busy night and day.  Heavy shuttles composed

the main traffic:  wide white saucers that lifted off on ordinary

rockets, then climbed away with sounds like bombs exploding when

orbital lasers lit the hydrogen in their tanks.  Flights in

transit to Orbital Monitor & Defense Command stations were marked

with small American flags and golden DoD insignia.  Cargo for them

went aboard in blank-faced pallets loaded behind opaque,

machinepatrolled fences half a mile from the main terminal across

empty desert.

>From Traynor's briefing, Gonzales knew a few other things.

Civilian flights fed the hungry settlements aloft:  Athena

Station, Halo City, the Moon's bases.  All the settlements had

learned the difficult tactics of recycling, discovery and

hoarding.  Water and oxygen stayed rare, while with processes slow

and expensive and dangerous, metals of all sorts could be cracked

out of soil so barren that to call it ore was a joke.  And though

water and metals had been found lodged in asteroids transported

into trans-Earth orbit, Earth's bounty stood close and remained

richer and more desirable than anything found in huge piles of

crushed lunar soil or wandering frozen rock.

#

Standing at a v-phone booth in the hotel lobby, Gonzales made

his farewell calls.  His mother's message tape on the phone screen

said, "Glad to hear you're back from Myanmar, dear, but you'll

have to call back in a few days.  I'm in treatment now.  I'll be

looking good the next time you call."

"End of call," Gonzales said.  He pulled his card from the

slot.

#

Atop a sand-colored blockhouse next to the launch pad, yellow

luminescent letters read TIME 23:40:00 and TIME TO LAUNCH

35:00 when a voice said, "Please board.  There will be one

additional notice in five minutes.  Board now."

Gonzales and Diana Heywood walked across the pad together,

down the center of a walkway outlined in blinking red lights.

Robotrucks scurried away, their electric engines whining.  Faces

hidden behind breather muzzles, men and women in bright orange

stood atop red, wheeled platform consoles of girder and wire mesh

and directed final pre-launch activities.

The white saucer stood on its fragile-seeming burn cradle, a

spider's web of blackened metal.  The saucer presented a smooth

surface to the heat and stress of escape and re-entry.

Intermittent surges of venting propellant surrounded it with

steam.

A HICOG guard stood at the entrance glideway.  He verified

each of them with a quick wave of an identity wand across their

badges, then passed them on through the search scanner.  The

glideway lifted them silently into the saucer's interior.

#

The hotel lounge stood halfway up the cliff.  Its fifty meter

wide window of thick glass belled out and up so that onlookers had

a good view of the launch and ensuing climb.

"One minute to launch," a loudspeaker said.  The hundred or

so people in the lounge, most of them friends and relatives of

saucer passengers, had already taken up places by the window bell.

The screen on a side wall counted down with gold numerals

that flashed from small to large, traditional celebration both

sentimental and ironic:

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-

ZERO!!!         And everyone cheered the saucer lifting from the

center of billowing clouds of smoke, rising very slowly out of

floodlights, then their breath caught at the size and beauty of

it, trembling into night sky.

Up and up as they watched, until they saw the ignition flash,

and the boom that came to them from five thousand feet shuddered

the entire cliff and them with it.

#

"I've got orbital lock," the primary onboard computer said.

Five others calculated and confirmed its control sequences.

Technically, Ground Control McAuliffe or Athena Station Flight

Operations could preempt control, but, practically, decision and

control took place within milli-second or less windows of

possibility, and so the onboard computers had to be adequate to

all occasions.

Never deactivated, the ship's half-dozen computers practiced

even when not flying, playing through ghastly and unlikely

scenarios of mechanical failure, human insanity, "acts of god" in

which the ship was struck by lightning, spun by tornado funnel,

hurricane, blizzard.  Each computer believed itself best, but

there was little to choose among them.

"Confirm go state," Athena Station said.  "You are past abort

or bail."

"We are ready, Athena," the computer said.

"So come to me, then," Athena Station said, and the ship

began to climb the beam of coherent light that reached up thirty

thousand miles, to the first station of its journey.

PART II. of V.

Recently I visited a Zen temple and had a long talk with the

priest.  In the course of our conversation, I remarked, 'The more

I study robots, the less it seems possible to me that the spirit

and flesh are separate entities.'

'They aren't,' replied the priest."

Masahiro Mori, The Buddha in the Robot

6. Halo City, Aleph

Orbiting a quarter of a million miles from both Earth and

Moon, Halo City crosses the void, a mile-wide silver ring ready to

be slipped on a stupendous finger.  Six spokes mark Halo's

segments.  Elevators climb them across forty stories of artificial

sky, up to the city's weightless hub and down to its final layer,

just inside the outer skin, where spin-gravity approaches Earth

normal.  There many of Halo's deepest transactions occur:  air and

water and all organic things travel and transform, to be used