The charges around the perimeter of the seventh chamber were set. Engineers had gone throughout the Thistledown, making final structural checks and testing the sixth chamber machinery. When the asteroid was blown from the beginning of the Way, the sixth chamber machinery would face an enormous strain—the end of its duties as stabilizer of the Way, and a sudden and violent increase in its policing of destructive forces inside the chambers.

The precincts of Axes Thoreau and Euclid had been moved north a hundred thousand kilometers from the seventh chamber. Within the twin cylinders, the confusion was enormous. Most of the Axis citizens—the Naderites, orthodox and otherwise, and a surprising number of homorph Geshels—had been reassigned to new quarters; few were completely familiar with their new precincts. There was a sense of holiday, of triumph, and also a heavy air of anxiety.

By the hundreds, the Earth people filled the processing halls, tended by Geshel doctors and watched over by advocates.

A male homorph—Hoffman noted the word and added it to her rapidly growing vocabulary—took skin samples from his group of twenty Earth people. She was seventh in line. For each he had a smile and a few well-chosen words of encouragement. He was handsome, but not to her taste—a little too finely honed, his characteristics not noticeably different from those of a dozen other homorphs. Or perhaps her senses weren't sophisticated; she was used to the broad varieties of physiognomy from her time, when unavoidable defects—misshapen noses, corpulence, dental misalignments—produced a medieval carnival of features.

When the samples had been stored, he produced a face-shaped cup from his floating toolbox. "This performs a number of medical analyses," he told them. "These tests are also voluntary—but your cooperation will be most helpful."

They all cooperated, peering into the cup and watching a series of complex patterns for several seconds.

Throughout the proceedings, she felt a sense not of coming misery or servitude, but of camaraderie. So many of the attendants proudly flew projected flags over their left shoulders. Flags of India, Australia, China, the United States, Japan, the USSR, and other nations. All were willing—eager, even—to speak to their charges in native tongues.

When the medical exams were completed, they were led off to a series of elevators opening on one side of the hall. Ann Blakely, Lanier's secretary and now Hoffman's, crossed over from another group. With her was Doreen Cunningham, former head of security in the science compound.

"Everybody's so tense," Cunningham whispered to Hoffman.

"Not me," Hoffman said. "I feel like I'm on some kind of holiday. The big folks are taking over now. Oh, Lord." She had just peered into their elevator. It didn't have any floor. Even with explanations and a demonstration from the attendants, it took some coaxing to get them to move forward.