And as he walked away, down the long line of empty spacesuits hanging like medieval arrays of armor with their helmets racked above them, he thought that after dinner with her he'd return and finish the job here.

Stavenger's going to go outside sooner or later, and when he does, a malfunction in his suit is going to kill him.

Later that day Doug was in Jinny Anson's office, meeting with the base director and the heads of the mining, transportation and research divisions.

Anson had rearranged the furniture so that the oblong conference table now butted against the desk like the vertical leg of a letter T.

Kris Cardenas was also sitting at the table, across from Zoltan Kadar, the astronomer. No one had invited the Hungarian to this strategy meeting; he had shown up with the others and grabbed a chair before anyone could shoo him away. His precious survey satellite to Farside had been launched the day before, so Doug wondered what he wanted now.

And sitting silently on the couch along the far wall of the office was Bam Gordette, silently watching, listening. He's become like my shadow, Doug thought. Everywhere I go, he goes. He doesn't say anything, but he takes in everything with those dark brown eyes, like a detective looking over a crime scene. Then a new thought struck Doug: Maybe Bam thinks he's my bodyguard. He sure acts like one. The thought made him smile to himself. I don't need a bodyguard here, not in Moonbase. But it made him feel almost grateful to Gordette for caring enough to act as one.

Doug took the chair at the foot of the table, facing Anson, who sat behind her desk.

"I've asked you here—most of you, anyway," he added, with a wry grin in Kadar's direction,'to talk over the chances of developing defenses against the next Peacekeeper assault."

"You think they'll be back, then," said Deborah Paine. Head of the research division, she had a frizzy blonde hairdo and an hourglass figure that had driven many men to distraction. She happened to be a very serious biologist, a topflight science administrator, and a cheerful lesbian.

"They'll be back," Doug said. "Faure's delaying any negotiations as much as he can. He's going to try to take us by force before agreeing to any compromise."

"We don't want any compromise, either," Anson snapped. "It's independence or bust."

Harry Clemens, the transportation division chief, clasped both hands behind his bald head and tilted his chair so far back Doug was afraid it would fall over. "So we've got to be prepared to defend ourselves, then?"

"That's right," said Doug.

"Against what?"

"More Peacekeeper troops," said Vince Falcone, head of the mining division.

"Worse than that," Clemens said in his mild, soft way.

"Like what?" Falcone asked.

"One modest nuclear warhead exploded a few hundred meters above the crater floor could knock out all our solar farms."

Doug countered, "But we've still got the nuclear backup. It's buried-"