“I don’t know either,” he said. “Back at Mars, you’d have been released to civilian life. But where we’re going, there is no civilian life. No human life at all. Do I turn you out to fend for yourself in the local food chain? Do I spend the time and resources it would take to send you back, and then back where? The forces that have taken control on Mars would see you as a traitor just the same as they would me. They’d throw you in the brig for life unless you cooperated with them. And if you were going to cooperate with them, then it wouldn’t make sense for me to send you back in the first place. Would it?”

“No, sir.” He could see understanding beginning to dawn in her eyes. Only beginning to, though. Humanity was so flawed. Not just her, but everyone. Half the population was below average intelligence. Half below average dedication. Average adherence to duty. The cruel law of statistics. It was astounding that as a race they’d managed as much as they had.

“Now that we are taking initiative,” he said, “it is more important than ever that we maintain strict discipline. We’re like the first long-haul missions back before anyone had an Epstein drive. Months, maybe years, as a community of warriors and explorers. There’s not room for outsiders when there is no outside. I know you’re upset that —”

“No, sir, I’m not —”

“I know you’re upset that I’m coming down on you for something as minor as a bracelet. It seems trivial, and it is. But if I wait until it’s not trivial, we come to matters of life and death very, very quickly. I don’t have the latitude to take a cavalier position.”

“I understand, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.”

He held out his hand, palm up. Babbage wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, and then dug in her pocket for a moment. When she put the bracelet in his hand, she paused, holding it for just a second longer. Whatever it meant to her, giving it over was a sacrifice. He closed his hand on the thin silver chain with its tiny sparrow-shaped pendant. He tried to make his smile gentle as he spoke.

“Dismissed.”

When she had closed the door behind her, he turned back to his system. A new message had come in from Cortázar. His flesh crawled a little. Duarte’s pet scientist had been sending more and more messages since the Belters had pulled the trigger. The man’s enthusiasm unnerved Sauveterre. The man’s personality was firmly in the uncanny valley, and his pleasure in the project they were undertaking at the new Laconia Station had a feeling of anticipation that was almost sexual.