"No, Frank."
"Yes! Dammit, man, open your eyes! If you let the Russians grab the ABM satellites they can nuke the hell out of America and stop any counterstrike we launch."
"Nobody's going to use those satellites except us," Kinsman said, his voice rising. "The people of Selene. And we'll use them against any and all missiles—Russian or American. Or Chinese or French or South African!"
"Bullshit!" Colt snapped. "You've been conned, man! Once the Russians get their hands on our satellites, you know they ain't gonna cooperate with you. They been sweet-talkin' you and you fell for it."
"We can trust Leonov."
"Like hell! Can't trust Reds. Not any of 'em."
Kinsman felt as if he'd run a thousand meters—no, a thousand kilometers. "Frank, you're scared of trusting any- one. You're scared of taking the risk. And I'm telling you that unless we trust Leonov and his people, unless we start trusting one another, the world's going to go up in flames."
Colt stubbornly shook his head.
"You're chicken, Frank. Scared of trying something new. 426
So you fall back on the regulations. When in doubt, follow the rules. Right?"
"Right!"
"Play it Murdock's way. Obey all orders blindly. Do what they tell you. Tote dat barge, lift dat bale . . ."
Colt punched him. A short savage right that came from the hip and clipped Kinsman squarely on the jaw. Kinsman actually felt himself lifting off his feet, flailing ridiculously in the low lunar gravity, and collapsing in a heap—ass, spine, shoulder, head—on the stone floor. His feet were the last to touch down.
Pat Kelly stared at him, frozen with surprise.
For a moment Kinsman lay there, tasting blood in his mouth. "That's the way, Frank. Kill and be killed."
A tangled skein of expressions worked across Colt's face. He said nothing.
"Frank," Kinsman said, still on his back, propping himself up on one elbow, "the black people of America, of Africa, of everywhere, are going to die. Before the month is out. Maybe before another week is out. Is that what you want?"
"And you're gonna save 'em by turning 'em over to the Reds?"
"I'm going to save them by making them free."
"Ahhh ..." Colt's face went sour. "You sound like a fucking dumb revolutionary. I been that route. It sucks."
