“I don’t think that’s possible. Anyhow, I think he was asking on Snowbird’s behalf. She wasn’t sure what would be polite.”

“And he doesn’t care.”

“Well, he approached me in Japanese, with an apology. But that was for interrupting my work, not for asking about my wife’s extramarital affairs. Still, politeness.”

“I don’t suppose you told him it was none of his business.”

“Slapped him with a glove and said ‘lasers at dawn.’ It’s not personal with him, of course.”

“I know. So why didn’t he just ask me?”

“You don’t speak Japanese.” I set down the balalaika and picked up the wine. “I think he likes me. Or likes talking to me. Maybe being oldest male has something to do with it.”

“Did you tell him any gory details?”

“I don’t have any, dear. I’m not that close to Moonboy, and you haven’t shown me the feelie yet. Did he know something I don’t?”

She shrugged. “All men do. Have something no other man has. And I’m saving the feelie for our old age.”

“In case we have one?”

She nodded, silent for a few moments, looking at the floor. Then she knuckled her eyes. “Could you play me that silly love song? The first, the first time . . .”

“Sure.” I picked up the instrument and tuned up the flatted E strings, then plucked out the simple melody. “Shteyt a bocher, shteyt un tracht . . . tracht un tracht a gantze nacht . . .”

It’s a song about a man finding a smart woman to marry.

Chapter 11 - HEROES

11

HEROES

Paul had always questioned the necessity for radio silence between Earth and ad Astra. It assumed the Others were so inattentive and stupid that they wouldn’t know we were on our way. Of course, our presence would be obvious after turnaround, with a gazillion- horsepower matter-annihilation engine blasting in their direction. The little probe that preceded us would deal with that by sending a warning and a message of peace well before we turned around and started blasting, decelerating.

What if they destroyed the probe before it delivered the message?

What if it delivered the message, and the Others destroyed us anyway?

What if they weren’t on a Wolf 25 planet after all?

We went along with the order and were resigned to not hearing from anyone on Earth for another 3.4 years. Paul kept the radio on, though, in case things changed.

On July 10, 2088, things did. A fifty-two-second message came from Earth. He called us all together in the lounge, Martians and humans, and played it back for us.

“This is Lazlo Motkin, just elected president of the world. One reason I was elected was that I wanted to change your mission and make it more in line with what the Earth’s people really want.