Dim dots near each star. Close-ups revealed rocky spheres, or gas giants, or bleak, Venuslike cloud worlds. “No Earths,” Carlotta noted.
“With so many planets around each star,” Nikka said, “the odds for favorable life sites somewhere nearby are good.”
“So goes the gospel,” Nigel said.
Carlotta said, “There’s a lot of analysis behind it. Data, too.”
“Yes. Perfectly plausible data.”
“Come off it,” Carlotta said. “You want to explain everything, using a couple of minutes of garbled talk with the Snark, none of it verified—”
“Unverified, yes, for want of trying. Ted won’t allocate the resources to interpret the EM language. We could learn a hell of a—”
“God, the computer memory needed to hold all that and process it—I did the study, I should know. Using shipboard systems, we wouldn’t have space left to store a lunch menu.”
Nikka said mildly, “I expect the Earthside teams will—”
“Ha!” Nigel exploded. “They’re busy with Swarmer and Skimmer studies. Banging their heads against the same sort of wall that’s between us and the dolphins. Pointless!”
“Look,” Carlotta said, “Ted worked over my projections real carefully, he conferred with everybody concerned, it was a good decision. They heard you out, they really gave you every consideration. You keep up this cranky griping, everybody’ll start believing what Ted said the other … .” She stopped.
“Ah, yes. Ted’s always hard on people who’ve left the room.”
“And you aren’t?” Carlotta said sourly.
“Can’t stand close-mindedness, is all.”
“You’re more close-minded than Ted, for gossakes!”
Nikka said firmly, “No, he’s not!”
Nigel smiled wanly. “Maybe reality isn’t my strong suit.”
“Ted has to balance pressures,” Carlotta said. “You’re respected, that goes without saying, and if you’d just give him some public support—”
Nigel boomed out in a pompous voice, “Speak into the microphone, just say you’re happy, Ivan, in spite of some regrettable things you’ve done, and we’ll take care of the publicity.”
Carlotta sniffed. “You’re missing the point.”
“Probably. Been off my feed lately. This rack of bones could use a tune-up.”
Nikka said carefully, “Meaning?”
“Look at my last job rating. I’m sure Ted’s memorized it.”
Nikka said, “You’re exaggerating. Ted hasn’t got time—”
“No, he’s right,” Carlotta said. “Ted’s probably ‘building a file,’ as the administrators say.”
Nikka said, “But health problems aren’t grounds for—”
“If a majority of our esteemed crewmates think it is, then it is, period.” Nigel said. His face sagged with an inward-looking fatigue.
Nikka said softly, “They might put you in the Slots, then?”
“Slotting might bring you back up to specs for a manual job,” Carlotta said thoughtfully.
Nigel sighed and shrugged.
“Look.” Carlotta leaned forward. “At a minimum, it’ll make you live longer.”
“And miss most of the voyage to Ross 128.”
“Small price,” Carlotta said. “I don’t think you have to do it, though. You’ve got lots of sentiment behind you. They may all not agree with your theories, but the crew remembers all this started ’way back with the Snark and Mare Marginis and—”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t want to win by pinning on my medals and parading round the ship.”
“You want to convince them, right?” Carlotta said sharply. “Only they see things different. Well—”
“Stop, you two,” Nikka said, lean and lithe and distant on the grass. “Nigel, if you go into the Slots, I’m going with you.”
“What!” Carlotta jumped up.
“I could use some repair myself.”
“That’s not it.” Carlotta’s voice rose. “You want to stay with him even if he’s asleep!”
“My medmon index isn’t very high, either,” Nikka said neutrally.
