Pirius actually saw the fatal shell incoming. It was like a meteor, streaking down from the barrage that flew over his head. On the comm loops he heard officers yelling warnings. But for those directly under the path of the shell, no warning could help.

It was the triplets, Pirius saw, recognizing their customized uniforms. For a last instant, they clung to each other. The shell landed directly over them. There was a soundless flash of light, another giant’s footstep, a fountain of dirt.

Pirius ran to the site of the impact. A perfectly pristine crater had been dug into the asteroid.

Tili One had somehow escaped unharmed. Three had lost a hand, but was conscious, though distressed. Of Two there was no sign. Her very substance had been torn apart, Pirius thought, her very atoms dissociated.

Over the heads of the little group, the monopole barrage was dying, as if apologetically.

Marta, Cohl, Burden were all here, standing gravely as the surviving sisters wailed and clung to each other. “At least it was quick.” Captain Marta said gruffly. “There can have been no pain.”

One of the Tilis turned on the officer. “What comfort is that? It was a stupid accident.”

Burden stepped forward. He placed a big hand on each of the Tilis’ skinsuit helmets. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “None of this matters. There will be a better time, a better place, where you will be reunited with your sister, when all of this is wiped clean. . . .” And so on. Gradually his words were comforting the girls. They bent their heads to his chest, and he held them as they wept wretchedly.

This was too much for Cohl. She turned on Captain Marta. “What happened to the Doctrines? If you let him spout words like these, what did she die for?”

Marta eyed her coldly, the human half of her reconstructed face as still and expressionless as the metallized side. “His words are useful,” she said simply.

And so they were, Pirius saw now, just as Burden himself had said, and that was why they were tolerated. It didn’t matter whether anybody believed in Michael Poole and the rest or not. Everything here was dedicated to the purposes of the war: even the tolerance of a faith which undermined the war’s very justification. Just as long as its adherents were prepared to march off to die.

The Captain snapped, “Clean up here.” She turned and walked away.

Pirius and the triplets’ other friends helped the surviving sisters get back to the barracks. Pirius had never seen anything like their grief.

But there was no time for consolation. The very next day new orders came: Pirius’s company was to be thrown into the Front.

For their final preparation Pirius and Cohl were taken to a sick bay.