The computers monitored the drive feeds, the accelerations, and all the balance of the Sections. On this trip, we had three units without operating drive units: Section Two, where Yifter’s guards were housed, just behind the Control Stage; Section Seven, where McAndrew had taken the kernel out of commission for his usual endless and mysterious experiments; and of course, the Control Stage itself. I had made the mistake of asking McAndrew what experiments he was planning for this trip. He looked at me with his innocent blue eyes and scribbled an answer full of twistor diagrams and spinor notation — knowing damn well that I wouldn’t be able to follow it. He didn’t like to talk about his work “halfcooked,” as he put it.

* * *

I had been more worried than I wanted to admit about dinner on that first ship-evening. I knew we would all be itching to ask Yifter about the Lucies, but there was no easy way to introduce the subject into the conversation. How could we do it? “By the way, I hear that you killed a billion people a few months ago. I wonder if you would like to say a few words on the subject? It would liven up the table-talk at dinner.” I could foresee that our conversation might be a little strained.

As it turned out, my worries were unnecessary. The first impression that I’d had of Yifter, of a mild and amiable man, strengthened on longer exposure. It was Bryson, during dinner, who caused the first tricky moment.

“Most of Earth’s problems are caused by the United Space Federation’s influence,” he said as the robo-server, always on best form at the beginning of the trip, rolled in the courses. “If it weren’t for the USF, there wouldn’t be as much discontent and rioting on Earth. It’s all relative, living space and living standards, and the USF sets a bad example. We can’t compete.”

According to Bryson, three million people were causing all the problems for ten billion — eleven, before Yifter’s handiwork. It was sheer nonsense, and as a USF citizen, I should have been the one to bridle; but it was McAndrew who made a growling noise of disapproval, down in his throat; and it was Yifter, of all people, who sensed the atmosphere quickest, and deftly steered the conversation to another subject.