"Cosmic rays?" She looked alarmed.
"Nothing to worry about."
"They're not dangerous?"
"Not as dangerous as living in Manhattan."
Linda spent a moment thinking that over. Then, "The reactor's going to power Star Wars stuff, isn't it?"
"We call it SDI: Strategic Defense Initiative."
"But that's what it's for, isn't it?"
His shrug would have lifted him off the floor if his cleated shoes hadn't been wedged into the grillwork. "Could be."
"So your brave new world is involved in war."
"Defensive systems like SDI won't kill anybody," he said. "Their purpose is to prevent nuclear war from happen- ing."
"But this is a military station."
"Unarmed. Two things this brave new world doesn't have yet: death and love."
"People have died in space."
"Never in orbit. Three Russian cosmonauts died during re-entry. People have been killed in ground or flying acci- dents. But no one's ever died up here. And no one's made love, either."
Despite herself, it seemed to Kinsman, she smiled. "Have there been any chances for it?"
"Not among NASA's astronauts, not in the shuttle. And the Russians have had a couple of women cosmonauts, but you know how puritanical they are."
Linda thought it over for a swift moment. "This isn't exactly the bridal suite at the Waldorf. I've seen better motel rooms along the Jersey Turnpike."
"Pioneers have to rough it."
"I'm a photographer, Chet, not a pioneer."
Kinsman spread his hands helplessly. "Strike three; I'm out."
