There were wisps of gray at his temples now, although Lisa’s midnight-black mane was as lustrous as ever. She could feel her whole body stiffen; the moment of challenge, the moment she had known would inevitably arise, had come at last.

“No, Doug,” she said softly. “I won’t let you go. You’re too important to me here.”

They were sitting facing each other across the tiny dining table of their new, enlarged, three-room suite. As chairman of the council, Douglas had been forced to accept the first of the bigger apartments. It included a sitting room where five or six people could be squeezed in for informal meetings, a dining area with its own cooking unit, and an indecently large bedroom.

He reached across the tiny stone table and grasped her slim hand in his. “Lisa, there’s no way around it. I’ve got to go. No one else can handle the job. It’s my responsibility.”

“You have responsibilities here,” she said.

“None of them mean a damned thing if the nuclear generators run out of fuel.”

“There are others who can lead a team Earthside.”

With a dogged shake of his head, “It’s my responsibility, Lisa. I’ve got to do it.”

She looked into his ice-blue eyes for long moments and saw that there was no way to talk him out of his resolve. Except one. Lisa knew she had one final card to play, one unbeatable trump that would bend him to her will.

“Doug... it’s not just for me,” she said, her voice light, almost girlish. “I... well, I’m with child, as they say.”

“You’re pregnant?”

She nodded slowly, and let a happy smile spread across her lips.

He grinned back at her. “Really?”

“I had a checkup with Catherine this morning.”

“A son,” he said, gripping her hand tighter than ever. “Do you think it’ll be a boy?”

She laughed. “I hope so.”

“A son.” He was beaming. “Even if it’s a girl, that’ll be okay. I won’t mind.”

Not much, she said to herself. How transparent you are, Douglas. How malleable.

Lisa had feared that just the mention of pregnancy might trigger memories of nearly six years ago and the moment they had come so close to tearing each other apart. Her cheek still stung from his hand every time she thought about it. But she had spent the years being faithful to him, being the model wife for the leader of the community, never allowing the slightest hint of a rumor to spring up in this hothouse settlement where gossip flew along the corridors faster than a pistol shot. For nearly six years now she had done everything in her considerable power to keep him happy. And for nearly six years he had jumped through hoops for her in unsuspecting gratitude. Douglas Morgan was chairman of the council. Lisa Ducharme Morgan ran it.

“I... Doug,” she stammered, “do you think... well, could you... postpone the expedition Earthside? Until after the baby is born?”

“Nine months?” The grin on his face slowly dissipated, replaced by an introspective frown. “Nine months,” he repeated, almost to himself. “I’ll have to check. That’s slicing it very thin.”

But she knew he would wait. And after the baby was born she would find other ways to keep him by her side. Especially if it was a son.

But she reckoned without Martin Kobol.

Five months passed without incident. Douglas chafed, but kept postponing the Earthside expedition. Kobol watched and waited as the nuclear generators’ supply of fuel rods slowly dwindled.

“At this rate,” he told Douglas, “we’ll be eating into the emergency reserves before the year’s out.”

They were standing in the cubbyhole office just off the control room of the nuclear powerplant. Through the leaded window Douglas could see the broad sweep of the control board, with its array of dials and switches. Two bored, sleepy-looking technicians sat there. Beyond the massive leadline doors across the chamber from them was the nuclear generator itself, silently converting the energy of splitting uranium atoms to electricity.

Douglas nodded unhappily. “I know. We’ve got to bring up more fissionables from Earthside.”

“And we can’t wait much longer,” Kobol pointed out, tapping the computer screen that showed the fuel supply numbers.

“A few more months...” Douglas muttered.

Kobol sat on the edge of the desk to ease his aching hip. “We should have gone three months ago, in the spring. It’s high summer now. In a few more months it’ll be winter.”

“I know the seasons!” Douglas snapped.

Kobol closed his eyes momentarily. He looked almost as if he were praying. “It’s Lisa, isn’t it? She’s making you wait until the baby’s born.”

“I want to wait until he’s born,” Douglas corrected.

“While we run out of fuel.”

“We won’t run out, Martin. Don’t try to pressure me.”

“Doug, this is a serious matter. If you won’t act, I’m going to have to bring it before the council.”

“Do that,” Douglas snapped. “Do anything you damned well please. Lead the expedition Earthside yourself. You tried that once and it didn’t work out so goddamned well, did it?”

His voice had risen to a room-filling roar, he suddenly realized. Both the technicians on the other side of the thick window had turned in their chairs to stare at him.

Kobol said nothing.

With a self-exasperated sigh, Douglas went over to Kobol and grabbed his bony shoulders. “Marty, I’m sorry. You’re right, we should have gone at least three months ago. It’s just that... Lisa lost her first baby, and the radiation dose she got—well, I just want to be here and make sure this one’s okay.”

Kobol pulled free of him and walked, one leg slightly stiff, toward the door. Without looking back at Douglas he said, “Why should this one be so special? She’s aborted three or four others.”

It was such a strange thing to say, such an incredible statement, that Douglas did not believe he had heard the man correctly.

“What did you say?” He heard a weird halfchuckle in his own voice.

Kobol put one hand on the doorknob, then halfturned toward Douglas. “She’s keeping this baby to hold onto you. You’re the puppet; the baby’s the string.”

Douglas could feel his blood turning to ice. “What did you say about three of four others?” His voice was deadly calm.

Shrugging, Kobol replied, “Nothing. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s none of my business.”

“But it’s my business, Marty.” Without being consciously aware of it, Douglas was advancing on Kobol, fists clenched.

“It’s just... something I heard.” Kobol’s voice quavered. “Ask Catherine Demain about it. She knows.”

He yanked the door open and rushed through it and out into the corridor, leaving Douglas standing there alone.