But the instant had passed, and Burden’s smiling control returned. “I think you know I will accept.”

Pila snorted her disgust. But she turned another box in her checklist from red to green.

As Burden made to leave, he turned back. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“There have been rumors—”

“Rumors?”

“That you brought a Silver Ghost with you from Earth. A live Ghost.”

Pirius glanced at Pila, who rolled her eyes; they had had little cooperation from the Quin commanders over security. He said, “I can’t comment on that. And I don’t understand your interest anyhow.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Burden.

Pirius sensed it actually mattered a great deal. There was much he didn’t understand about Burden, he thought—perhaps a lot Burden didn’t even understand about himself.

But there was no time to think about it now, because he had to face a still more difficult interview.

Pirius Blue was arrogant, cocky.

His face, of course, was Pirius Red’s own. But Red was shocked by how old he had become, even compared to his memory from the trial seven months ago, as if far more than a couple of years now separated them. And the infantry-standard silvered discs that replaced his pupils were eerie, glinting.

“Let me get this straight,” Blue said. “You want me to fly in your kiddie squadron. You want me to report to you.”

Red worked hard to keep his temper under control. “It isn’t unprecedented.” That was true; he had had Pila look out the records. “There have been many instances of temporal twins serving together.”

“Yes, but not with one under the command of another.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m you,” said Blue. “Or rather, I’m what you wish you were. I’m the older, wiser, more experienced, better-looking you.” He actually leered at Pila, trying to put her off. Red felt obscurely proud of the contemptuous loathing she projected back.

In his brief few days as a squadron leader, Red had begun to learn the elements of command. Now he summoned all that up. “Get this straight,” he snapped, and Blue looked surprised at his tone. “I don’t like this situation any more than you do. But I’m stuck with it. I’ve got a mission, I’ve got my duty, and I intend to perform it.”

“Don’t lecture me, you . . . you—”

“What?” Pirius stood up and leaned over the table. “What? What do you think I am? I’m not your clone. I’m not a cadre sibling, or a brother, or even a twin. I’m not some failed copy of you. I’m you. Maybe you resent my existence. But believe me, I resent yours far more. I’m here,” he said. “So are you. Get over it.”

Blue shook his head. “If you’re drafting me—”

“I’ve drafted nobody. I’m looking for volunteers.” That seemed to surprise Blue. “I know you can do the job,” Red said. “Because I know myself that well.”

“So you want me to volunteer.”