And nanomachines took carbon atoms from near-Earth asteroids and built Clipperships of pure diamond, Moonbase's newest export and already its principal source of cash flow. Diamond Clipperships were not only the world's best spacecraft; they were starting to take over the market for long-range commercial air flight on Earth.

The United Nations' nanotechnology treaty banned all nanotech operations, research and teaching in the nations that signed the treaty. Seven years earlier, when it became clear that the United States would sign the treaty—indeed, American nanoluddites had drafted the treaty—Masterson Corporation had set up a dummy company on the island nation of Kiribati and transferred Moonbase to the straw-man corporation. As long as Kiribati did not sign the treaty, Moonbase could legally continue using nanomachines, which were as vital to Moonbase as air.

But the day after Tamara Bonai, chief of the Kiribati council, reluctantly signed the nanotech treaty, the U.N.'s secretary general—Georges Faure—personally called Joanna Stavenger and told her that Moonbase had two weeks to shut down all nanotech operations, research and teaching.

Exactly two weeks later, to the very minute, all communications links from Earth to Moonbase were cut. And now a spacecraft carrying U.N. Peacekeeper troops had lifted from Corsica on a leisurely five-day course for Moonbase.

"You have no idea of how much pressure they put on us," Bonai said, her lovely face downcast. "They even stopped tourist flights from coming to our resorts. It was an economic blockade. They would have strangled us."

"I'm not blaming you for this," Doug said. "I only called to let you know that we're declaring our independence. As an independent nation that hasn't signed the nanotech treaty, we'll be able to keep on as we have been, despite Faure and his Peacekeepers."

She almost smiled. "Does that mean that you will continue to honor your contracts with Kiribati Corporation?"

Moonbase marketed its diamond Clipperships and other exports to transportation companies on Earth through Kiribati Corporation.

"Yes, certainly," Doug said. Then he added, "As soon as this situation is cleared up."

"I understand," she said. "We will certainly not object to your independence."

Doug smiled back at her. "Thanks, Tamara. I knew I could count on you."

The three seconds ticked. "Good luck, Doug," she said at last.

Thanks again. I think we're going to need all the luck we can get."

TOUCHDOWN MINUS 114 HOURS

Kind of a shame, the mercenary thought. They're pretty nice people, these guys I work with. The women, too. But I won't be hurting them. It's the leaders I'm after. The Brudnoys and Jinny Anson and the Stavenger kid.

Nodding as if reaffirming his mission, he went back to his work. Got to finish this job, he told himself. Can't leave anything undone. No loose ends; no mistakes.

The word spread through Moonbase's corridors with the speed of sound. In workshops and offices, in living quarters and laboratories, out at the spaceport, at the mass driver, even among the handful of spacesuited men and women working on the surface, the word flashed: We're at war. U.N. troops are on their way here.