Oakes had been turning toward the holo projection and its com-console at his side. He hesitated, glanced at Thomas without turning his head. The gesture said: You still here? But there was more in his eyes. His interest had been caught.

“Well?”

“You bear a striking physical resemblance to Morgan Hempstead and I couldn’t help but notice that you have the same first name.”

“Who was Morgan Hempstead?”

“We often wondered if the Moonbase director had allowed a clone of himself. Are you that clone?”

“I’m not a clone! And what the hell is Moonbase?”

Thomas broke off, recalling what Ship had told him. These replay survivors had been picked up at a different stage in human development. The resemblance, even the name, could be coincidence. Did they come from a time before space travel? Was Ship their first experience in the many dimensions of the universe?

“I asked you a question!” Oakes was angry and not bothering to conceal it.

“Moonbase was the project center which created Ship.”

“On Earth’s moon? My Earth?” Oakes touched his breast with a thumb. And he thought about this revelation.

“Didn’t you ever wonder where Ship originated?” Thomas asked.

“Many times. But I never thought we did this thing to ourselves.”

Thomas remembered more of Ship’s recital now and drew on it. “Some people had to be saved. The sun was going nova. It required a herculean effort.”

“So we were told,” Oakes said, “but that was later. I am considerably more interested in how a Moonbase was kept secret.”

“If there’s only one lifeboat, do you tell everyone where it is?”

Thomas felt rather proud of this creative lie. It was just the kind of thing Oakes might believe.

Oakes nodded to himself. “Yes . . . of course.” He glanced at the com-console, then twisted himself more comfortably into the divan. Thomas was lying, obviously. Interesting lie, though. Everyone knew that the ship had landed in Aegypt. Could there be two ships? Perhaps . . . and there could have been many landings.

Thomas stood. “Where do I find transportation down to Pandora?”

“You don’t. Not until you’ve told me more about Moonbase. Make yourself comfortable.” He indicated the seat which Thomas had vacated.

There was no avoiding the threat. Thomas sank back. What a tangled web we weave, he thought. Truth is easier. But Oakes could not be told the truth . . . no, not yet. The proper moment and place had to be found for laying Ship’s command upon him. Shipmen were far gone in the puny play of WorShip. They would have to be shaken out of that before they could even contemplate Ship’s real demand.

Thomas closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then opened his eyes and began recounting the physical facts of Moonbase as he knew them. The account was barbered only to the extent needed for illusion that Moonbase had been a project kept secret from Oakes’ Earth.