"And what are the alternatives?"

"The conference is considering the alternatives even now—and have been for over three weeks. We believe the Jarts will break though our barriers in a matter of years, perhaps months. They'll overrun our most extended gates—we'll shut them down and withdraw, of course—and eventually, by the end of the decade, they'll push us back into the Thistledown. We'll have to evacuate, and to keep them from following us, we'll have to destroy the Way. That would be an incredible calamity."

"You're certain about this?"

Toller nodded once. "We cannot hold them for long. They've grown quite strong, and they've enlisted the help of other worlds—by opening gates all up and down their segment of the Way."

"Couldn't you do the same?"

"As I said, they've occupied the Way for several centuries longer than we have. They're more familiar with it, in some ways, than we are, even though we created it."

Toller wasn't telling her about one of the alternatives the rogue had mentioned—blowing the Thistledown from the end of the Way and "cauterizing" it, sealing it closed so it would continue to exist, independently of the sixth chamber machinery. She decided not to ask him about that possibility. "It's fascinating," she said. "Gives me a lot to think about."

"Yes, well, I'm sure I've violated all the rules of etiquette, Patricia. You've been very kind to listen to me. Our time is quite limited, as you see, and you've brought an additional element into the equation. . . .”

"I'm sure we have," Patricia said. Perhaps more than you know. . . “I'd like to walk back now."

"Certainly. I'll accompany you."

She smiled at him, eyes still distant. Toller said very little as they retraced their steps up the beach to the resort buildings, and that suited Patricia.

She was already slipping into the state, her mind working, conjuring up her personal notation. Passing quickly through Lanier's room, she made a few excuses and retired to her own quarters, lying down on the bed and closing her eyes tightly.

Toller greeted the others and spoke with them for several minutes, explaining he had had a good conversation with Patricia concerning subjects of importance to all of them. After he left, Lanier knocked on Patricia's door, and received no answer.

"Patricia?" he called.

"Yes," she said softly, scrunching up her face.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm resting," she said. "I'll join you for dinner."

He looked at his watch; their second meal on the Frant World, ostensibly supper, would begin in an hour. He returned to his room.

"How is she?" Carrolson asked.

"Fine, she says. She's napping."

"Not likely," Farley said. "I wonder what Toller told her?"

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The meeting between the three men who had taken Mirsky's mantle of authority began and ended in half an hour. It was held in Pletnev's private cabin, with Annenkovsky standing guard outside to make sure nobody listened in.