He drew strength from looking at Cesca Peroni, beautiful in the companion chair next to the old Speaker. She looked coolly formal, a work of art, but Jess knew the fires inside her, the passions and the strength that she now directed toward protecting and managing the Roamer people. And Jess would not let his personal feelings endanger the future of the clans. Neither he nor Cesca could afford the slightest distraction now.

“We resolve nothing by shouting at each other,” Jhy Okiah said from the center of the chamber, voice dry but strong.

“We resolve nothing by sitting here and talking!” Del Kellum shouted back. His starship-construction yards in the rings of Osquivel were close enough to a brooding gas planet that he felt threatened. “Shizz, Roamers were not meant to meekly accept our fates.” Other clan representatives stomped their booted feet on the metal floors.

Jhy Okiah let them blow off steam. “Of course not. But doing the wrong thing might be worse than doing nothing. We will follow the Guiding Star, but first we must set our course. At present, we have no information about our enemies or their reasons for attacking us. We’re like a ship without a navigator flying at full speed through an asteroid field.”

Cesca moved to the Speaker’s side, her dark eyes flashing. She addressed Del Kellum directly. “Do you intend to shut down your shipyards? Are you suggesting that we withdraw all skymines from every gas giant, just to be safe? When have Roamers ever been safe?”

Grumbling, fists clenched, Kellum sat back down. “In truth, I don’t know what to do, by damn—not even what to suggest. But we’ve lost four skymines already—another one just days ago at Welyr! A thousand people dead, maybe more.” The middle-aged man’s chest heaved as he wrestled with his anguish. Jess knew that Kellum had spent years courting Shareen Pasternak, Chief of the recently destroyed facility on Welyr.

“Yes,” the Speaker said coldly, “and my grandson Berndt was one of the casualties at Erphano. Just like your Shareen at Welyr, Del Kellum. Don’t try to convince me of the cost.”

Jess watched the discussion. Everyone at the clan gathering felt as much horror and uneasiness as he did. Everyone wanted to take direct and effective action … but no one knew what to do.

“Safe is one thing, foolhardy is another.” It was Crim Tylar, an ambitious blond-haired man who operated an old Ildiran skymine facility on the gas-giant Ptoro. “Perhaps we should call a temporary moratorium on ekti harvesting, pull our skymines out of the clouds until… until this is resolved.”

“Madness!” bellowed Cesca’s father, Denn Peroni. He owned a small merchant and cargo fleet of Roamer vessels. “Commerce in ekti is the lifeblood of Roamer civilization. Would you have us sell cometary dust?”