"They've made people change a lot since they got to Earth," Moishe Russie said. "They're just starting to find out how much they've changed, too. As far as they're concerned, changing us is fine. But they don't like it so well when the shoe is on the other foot. n.o.body does."

"If they could stamp out ginger, they'd do it in a minute," Reuven said.

"If we could stamp out alcohol and opium and a lot of other things, a lot of us would do it, too," his father said. "We've never managed it. I don't think they'll have an easy time getting rid of ginger, either."

"You're probably right, especially since we use it so much in food," Reuven answered. "One of these days, though, they may try-try seriously, I mean. That will be interesting."

"There's one word for it." Moishe Russie winked. "If these Lizards do get married, who'd give the bride away?"

Before Reuven could reply, the ordinary telephone rang. He went over and picked it up. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Dr. Russie?" A woman's voice, one with pain in it. "This is Deborah Radofsky. I'm sorry to bother you, but I just kicked the wall by accident, and I'm afraid I've broken my toe."

Reuven started to tell her that a doctor couldn't do much for a broken toe no matter what-news that always delighted his patients. He started to tell her to come to the office in the morning if she really wanted to get it examined. Instead, he heard himself saying, "Remind me of your address, and I'll come over and have a look at it." His father blinked.

"Are you sure?" the widow Radofsky asked. Reuven nodded, a useless thing to do over a phone without a video attachment. After he gave her a.s.surances she could hear, she gave him an address. It wasn't more than fifteen minutes' walk away; Jerusalem was an important city, but not on account of its size.

"A house call?" Moishe Russie asked when Reuven hung up. "I admire your energy, but you don't do that very often."

"It's Mrs. Radofsky," Reuven answered. "She thinks she's broken her toe."

"Even if she has, you won't be able to give her much help, and you know it perfectly well," his father said. "I don't see why you didn't just tell her to come to the office tomorrow morn..." His voice trailed off as he made the pieces fit together. "Oh. Mrs. Radofsky. The widow Radofsky. Well, go on, then."

After grabbing his doctor's bag, Reuven was glad to get out of the house. His father didn't mind his paying a professional call on a nice-looking widow. His mother probably wouldn't mind when his father told her, either. What the twins would say-no, he didn't want to contemplate that. At romantic fifteen, they thought he was a fool for not having gone to Canada with Jane Archibald. About three days a week, he thought he was a fool, too.

He had no trouble finding the widow Radofsky's little house. When he knocked on the door, he had to wait a bit before she opened it. The way she limped after he came inside showed why. "Sit down," he told her. "Let me have a look at that."

She did, in an overstuffed chair under a lamp, and held up her right foot. She winced when he slid the slipper off it. Her fourth toe was swollen up to twice its size, and purple from base to tip. She hissed when he touched it, and hissed again and shook her head when he asked her if she could move it. "I have broken it, haven't I?" she said.

"I'm afraid so," Reuven answered. "I can put a splint on it, or I can leave it alone. It'll heal the same either way."

"Oh," she said unhappily. "It's like that, is it?"

"I'm afraid so," he repeated, and tried to make her think about something besides his inability to help: "What's your daughter doing?"

"She's gone to sleep," the widow Radofsky answered. She wasn't easily distracted. "Why did you bother coming here, if you knew you wouldn't be able to do much? You could have told me to wait till morning."

"It's all right-it might have been just a nasty bruise. It's not, but it might have been." Reuven hesitated, then added, "And-I hope you don't mind my saying so-I was glad for the chance to see you, too."

"Were you?" After a pause of her own, she said, "No, I don't mind."

.13.

"Scooter calling Columbus. Columbus. Scooter calling Scooter calling Columbus," Columbus," Glen Johnson radioed as he approached the second American constant-acceleration s.p.a.ceship to reach the asteroid belt. "Come in, Glen Johnson radioed as he approached the second American constant-acceleration s.p.a.ceship to reach the asteroid belt. "Come in, Columbus." Columbus."

"Go ahead, Scooter," the radio operator aboard Columbus Columbus said. "We have you on our radar. You're cleared to approach airlock number two. The lights will guide you." said. "We have you on our radar. You're cleared to approach airlock number two. The lights will guide you."

"Thanks, Columbus. Columbus. Will do. Out." The lights aboard the s.p.a.ceship had been guiding him for a little while now. He'd hardly needed the chatter. But the Will do. Out." The lights aboard the s.p.a.ceship had been guiding him for a little while now. He'd hardly needed the chatter. But the Columbus' Columbus' radio operator on duty was a woman with a nice, friendly voice. He enjoyed listening to her, and so talked more than he might have otherwise. radio operator on duty was a woman with a nice, friendly voice. He enjoyed listening to her, and so talked more than he might have otherwise.

He had no idea whether he would enjoy looking at her; they'd never met in person. He knew he enjoyed looking at the Columbus. That's doing things right, Columbus. That's doing things right, he thought. The he thought. The Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark had started out as a s.p.a.ce station, and had had to be expanded and revised before leaving Earth orbit. It had reached the vicinity of Ceres, yes, and done what it was supposed to do once it got here, but that didn't mean it wasn't the s.p.a.cegoing equivalent of a garbage scow. had started out as a s.p.a.ce station, and had had to be expanded and revised before leaving Earth orbit. It had reached the vicinity of Ceres, yes, and done what it was supposed to do once it got here, but that didn't mean it wasn't the s.p.a.cegoing equivalent of a garbage scow.

By contrast, the Columbus Columbus had been designed and built as an interplanetary s.p.a.cecraft from the inside out. It wasn't quite so elegant a piece of engineering as a Lizard starship, but it was on the right track. It was a series of spheres: one for the crew, then a boom, another sphere for the reaction ma.s.s, then a second boom, and finally, in lonely splendor, the nuclear engine that heated and discharged the ma.s.s. It was a better job in just about every way than the had been designed and built as an interplanetary s.p.a.cecraft from the inside out. It wasn't quite so elegant a piece of engineering as a Lizard starship, but it was on the right track. It was a series of spheres: one for the crew, then a boom, another sphere for the reaction ma.s.s, then a second boom, and finally, in lonely splendor, the nuclear engine that heated and discharged the ma.s.s. It was a better job in just about every way than the Lewis and Clark. Lewis and Clark. And the s.p.a.ceship that came after the And the s.p.a.ceship that came after the Columbus Columbus would be better still. Human technology wasn't static, the way the Race's was. would be better still. Human technology wasn't static, the way the Race's was.

Using eyeb.a.l.l.s and the scooter's radar, Johnson killed almost all of his velocity relative to the Columbus Columbus and drifted forward at a rate better measured in inches per second than in feet. He made further minute adjustments with his little maneuvering rockets as he slid into airlock number two, which was big enough to accommodate the scooter. and drifted forward at a rate better measured in inches per second than in feet. He made further minute adjustments with his little maneuvering rockets as he slid into airlock number two, which was big enough to accommodate the scooter. "Columbus, "Columbus, I'm all the way inside," he reported. "Velocity... zero." I'm all the way inside," he reported. "Velocity... zero."

"Roger that." It wasn't the radio operator who answered, but the airlock officer, a man. The outer door slid shut behind the scooter. Once it had securely closed, the inner door slid open. The airlock officer said, "We have pressure for you, Lieutenant Colonel Johnson. You can open the top and come out for a bit."

"Thanks," Glen said. "Don't mind if I do." He had to equalize pressure before the canopy would come off; the Columbus Columbus kept its internal pressure a little higher than either the kept its internal pressure a little higher than either the Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark or the scooter. When Johnson did emerge, he was wearing a grin. "Always good to see an unfamiliar face." or the scooter. When Johnson did emerge, he was wearing a grin. "Always good to see an unfamiliar face."

"I believe that," the airlock officer said. "h.e.l.l, it's good for me to see you, and I've only been stuck aboard this madhouse for a few months."

"You don't know what a madhouse is," Johnson said, loyally slandering his own shipmates.

"Well, maybe you're right," the other fellow admitted. "You folks even had a stowaway, didn't you? Somebody who wasn't supposed to be aboard, I mean."

"We sure did." Glen Johnson would have drawn himself up in pride, but didn't see much point in weightlessness. "As a matter of fact, you're looking at him."

"Oh," the airlock officer said. "I'm sorry. No offense."

"Don't worry about it," Johnson said easily. "After all the different things Brigadier General Healey has called me over the past couple of years, you'd have a hard time getting me mad." He pushed off against the scooter and grabbed the nearest handhold. The corridors of the Columbus, Columbus, like those of the like those of the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, were designed so that people could impersonate chimpanzees. were designed so that people could impersonate chimpanzees.

"Doctor Harper should be along any minute now," the airlock officer said.

"It's all right. I'm not in any big hurry," Johnson answered. "We don't have scheduled flights yet-that'll have to wait for a while. Not enough traffic that we have to worry about it, either. As soon as he gets here, I'll take him where he needs to go."

"She. Her," the fellow from the Columbus Columbus said. "Doctor Chris Harper is definitely of the female persuasion." said. "Doctor Chris Harper is definitely of the female persuasion."

"Okay. Better than okay, in fact," Johnson said. "I figured anybody who's a doctor of electrical engineering was odds-on to be a guy, even if Chris is one of those names that can go either way. Not sorry to find out I'm wrong, though."

"We brought along as even a mix as we could, same as the Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark did," the airlock officer replied. "It's not fifty-fifty-more like sixty-forty." did," the airlock officer replied. "It's not fifty-fifty-more like sixty-forty."

"That's better than our blend-we're closer to two to one," Johnson said. He wondered if the larger number of newly arrived women would change the social rules that had developed aboard the Lewis and Clark. Time will tell, Lewis and Clark. Time will tell, he thought with profound unoriginality. he thought with profound unoriginality.

From what the airlock officer had said, he'd expected Dr. Chris Harper to be a beautiful blonde who might have gone into the movies instead of electrical engineering. She wasn't; she had light brown hair, chopped off pretty short, and wasn't anywhere near beautiful. Cute Cute was the word that sprang to Johnson's mind: again, something less than original. "Pleased to meet you," he said, and stuck out the hand he wasn't using to hold on. was the word that sprang to Johnson's mind: again, something less than original. "Pleased to meet you," he said, and stuck out the hand he wasn't using to hold on.

"Same to you, I'm sure," she said. "You're supposed to take me to Dome 22, isn't that right?"

"Uh-huh," he said. "They're just about ready for you there. They probably could have gotten things going by themselves, but we'll be able to get twice as much done-maybe more than twice as much done-with more people doing it."

"That's the idea," Dr. Harper said. She pointed toward the scooter. "And what am I supposed to do here?"

"Get in, sit in the back seat, and fasten your belt," Johnson answered. "Fare is seventy-five cents, fare box is on the right-hand side. Because of company policy, your driver's not allowed to accept tips."

She snorted and grinned. "They kept telling us the people who came out on the Lewis and Clark Lewis and Clark were a little strange. I see they were right." were a little strange. I see they were right."

Before Johnson got the chance to deny everything with as much mock indignation as he could, the airlock officer pointed at him and said, "He's the stowaway."

Dr. Harper's eyes widened. "You mean there really was one? When we heard about that, I thought it was like a lefthanded monkey wrench or striped paint-something they pulled on the new people." She swung her attention back to Glen Johnson. "Why did you stow away? How How did you stow away?" did you stow away?"

"I didn't quite," he said, "I was flying orbital patrol, and I came aboard the Lewis and Clark- Lewis and Clark-the s.p.a.ce station, it still was then-when my main engine wouldn't ignite." He'd arranged the engine trouble himself, but he'd never told that to anybody, and didn't intend to start here. "I got there just before the ship was going to leave Earth orbit, and the commandant didn't want anybody who wasn't in on the secret going back down and saying something he shouldn't, letting the Lizards know what was up. So he kept me aboard, and I came along for the ride."

"Oh," she said. "That's not as exciting as hiding in a washroom or something, is it?"

"Afraid not," Johnson answered. Now he pointed to the scooter. "Shall we get going?" He pushed off from the wall and glided toward the little c.o.c.kpit. Dr. Harper did the same. She was good in weightlessness, but she still didn't take it quite so much for granted as did the crewfolk of the Lewis and Clark. Lewis and Clark. She scrambled in behind him and strapped herself down. She scrambled in behind him and strapped herself down.

He sealed the canopy, double-checked to make sure it was was sealed, and waved to the airlock officer to show he was ready to go. The officer nodded and touched a b.u.t.ton. The inner door to the lock closed. Pumps pulled most of the air back into the sealed, and waved to the airlock officer to show he was ready to go. The officer nodded and touched a b.u.t.ton. The inner door to the lock closed. Pumps pulled most of the air back into the Columbus. Columbus. The outer door opened. Using tiny burns with his maneuvering jets, Johnson eased the scooter out of the airlock. The outer door closed behind him. The outer door opened. Using tiny burns with his maneuvering jets, Johnson eased the scooter out of the airlock. The outer door closed behind him.

"You're good at this," Chris Harper remarked.

"I'd better be," Johnson answered, swinging the scooter's nose in the direction of Dome 22. Once he'd done that, he decided he ought to elaborate a little more: "I was a fighter pilot when the Lizards got here, and then, like I said, I did a lot of orbital patrolling. And I've been out here a while now, too. So I've had more practice at this kind of thing than just about anybody."

"I always enjoy watching somebody who knows what he's doing, no matter what it is," she said. "You do. It shows."

"Glad you think so," he said. "Now I have to make extra sure not to let any little rocks bounce off us, or anything stupid like that."

Dome 22 had been set up on an asteroid about half a mile across at its thickest point. "This is the one they're going to use as a test, isn't that right?" Chris Harper asked as they drew near the drifting chunk of rock and metal.

"Yeah, I think so," he answered. "That's why you've come, isn't it? For a last look to make sure everything goes the way it should?"

"That's about the size of it," Dr. Harper agreed. "Do you suppose the Lizards will notice when we do test?"

"Everyone's a.s.suming they will, or at least that they'll notice the beginning," he said. "Of course, they may stop paying any attention to this asteroid once we shut down the dome and take everybody off. We're hoping that's what they do, but don't bet anything you can't afford to lose on it."

"Fair enough," she said briskly, and then, to his surprise, tapped him on the shoulder. "I know you said it was against the rules to tip the driver, but I've got something for you, if you want it."

He wondered what she had in mind. The c.o.c.kpit of a scooter wasn't the ideal place for some of the things that leaped into his his mind, especially not when they'd come so close to the dome. "Well, sure," he said in tones as neutral as he could make them. He might have been wrong, after all. mind, especially not when they'd come so close to the dome. "Well, sure," he said in tones as neutral as he could make them. He might have been wrong, after all.

And he was. She said, "Here, then," and handed him a couple of things. They were small enough for both of them to fit in the palm of his hand: a roll of Lifesavers and a pack of Wrigley's Spearmint gum. They weren't her reasonably fair white body, but he exclaimed, "Thank you!" just the same.

"You're welcome," Dr. Harper answered. "My guess was that you people had probably run out of things like that a while ago."

"And you're right, too," he said. "As far as teeth and such go, we're probably better off on account of it, but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy the h.e.l.l out of these. Cherry Lifesavers... Jesus."

He was close enough to the asteroid now to let him see all the construction that had gone on alongside of Dome 22. He clenched the candy and gum. In a way, that was what the construction was all about: so the USA could go right on making such frivolous things. He laughed at himself. If you don't sound like something out of a recruiting film, what does? If you don't sound like something out of a recruiting film, what does?

"Hydrogen, oxygen-who needs anything else?" he said, and then, as a concession to his pa.s.senger, "A little alien engineering doesn't hurt, either."

"Thank you so much," Chris Harper said. They both laughed.

Stargard was one of the towns of northeastern Germany that the Wehrmacht Wehrmacht and the and the Volkssturm Volkssturm had defended to the last man and the last bullet. The Lizards hadn't expended an explosive-metal bomb on it; they'd smashed it with armor and with strikes from the air, and then gone on to larger, more important centers of resistance. Once the had defended to the last man and the last bullet. The Lizards hadn't expended an explosive-metal bomb on it; they'd smashed it with armor and with strikes from the air, and then gone on to larger, more important centers of resistance. Once the Reich Reich yielded, they hadn't bothered putting a garrison in the town between Greifswald and Neu Strelitz. yielded, they hadn't bothered putting a garrison in the town between Greifswald and Neu Strelitz.

Johannes Drucker didn't blame the Lizards for that. In their shoes, he wouldn't have garrisoned Stargard, either. What point to it? Before war rolled through the little city, it might have held forty or fifty thousand people-about as many as Greifswald. These days? These days, he would have been astonished if even a quarter of that number tried to scratch out a living here. He knew for a fact that ruins and empty houses far outnumbered inhabited ones.

All that made Stargard a perfect place for holdouts. Drucker wondered how many other smashed-up towns throughout the Reich Reich held company- to battalion-sized units of held company- to battalion-sized units of Wehrmacht Wehrmacht men or brigands-sometimes the line between them wasn't easy to draw-who would sometimes sneak out and do what they could against the occupiers of the men or brigands-sometimes the line between them wasn't easy to draw-who would sometimes sneak out and do what they could against the occupiers of the Reich. Reich.

He doubted he'd ever find out the answer to that. He did know Stargard held such a unit. And, at the moment, the holdouts were holding him. The Lizard who'd been driving him down to Neu Strelitz was no longer among the living. Had a couple of bullets from the machine-gun burst that wrecked the motorcar and killed the driver gone a few centimeters to the left or right of their actual courses, Drucker wouldn't have been among the living any more, either.

As things were, he remained unsure how long he'd stay among the living. The holdouts kept him in the cellar whose second story had taken a couple of direct hits from a landcruiser's cannon. It hadn't burned, but n.o.body would want to live up there, either.

With a screech of rusty hinges, the cellar door opened. Two guards came down the stairs. One carried a kerosene lamp to shed more light than the candles the holdouts gave Drucker. The other had an a.s.sault rifle. He pointed it at Drucker's midriff. "Come with us," he said.

"All right." Drucker got off the cot where he'd been lying. The alternative, plainly, was being shot on the spot. "Where are we going?" he asked. They'd taken him out for questioning a couple of times, which had let him see a little of Stargard, not that there was much worth seeing.

But the fellow with the lamp had a different answer today: "To the People's Court, that's where. They'll give you what you deserve, you lousy traitor."

"I'm not a traitor." Drucker had been saying the same thing ever since they captured him. Had the holdouts believed him, they would have let him go. Had they thoroughly disbelieved him, they would have shot him when they killed his driver. They almost had. "What do you mean, People's Court?" he asked as he approached the stairs.

The guards both backed up. They weren't about to let him get close enough to grab either the rifle or the lantern. The one holding the rifle said, "The People's Court, to give out justice for the Volk." Volk."

"To give collaborators what they deserve," the other fellow added.

Wearily, Drucker said, "I'm not a collaborator, either." He'd been saying that over and over, too. Had he just been saying it, it would have done him no good. But he'd also had in his wallet the telegram from Walter Dornberger. A personal message from the Fuhrer Fuhrer had given even the holdouts pause. had given even the holdouts pause.

When Drucker came out onto the street, he was surprised to see it was early morning. Down in the windowless cellar, he'd lost track of day and night. He'd lost track of which day it was, too. He thought he'd been a prisoner for a couple of weeks, but he could have been off by several days either way.

Only a few people were out and about so early. None of them seemed to find the sight of a man marched along at gunpoint in any way remarkable. Drucker wondered what would happen if he shouted for help. Actually, he didn't wonder; he had a pretty good idea. n.o.body would do anything for him, and the youngster with the a.s.sault rifle would fill him full of holes. He kept quiet.

"In here," said the fellow with the lantern. In daylight, even the murky, cloudy daylight of Stargard, it was useless.

Here had been a tobacconist's. The plate-gla.s.s window at the front of the shop had been smashed. Drucker was morally certain not a gram of tobacco remained inside. He'd lost the craving up on the Lizards' starship, and had never had it too strongly-smoking in the upper stage of an A-45 while in Earth orbit was severely impractical. But for the shattered window, though, the tobacconist's looked pretty much intact. had been a tobacconist's. The plate-gla.s.s window at the front of the shop had been smashed. Drucker was morally certain not a gram of tobacco remained inside. He'd lost the craving up on the Lizards' starship, and had never had it too strongly-smoking in the upper stage of an A-45 while in Earth orbit was severely impractical. But for the shattered window, though, the tobacconist's looked pretty much intact.

The back room had probably kept the stock that wasn't on display. Now it held a table and eight or ten chairs that didn't match one another. Three men sat along one side of the table. Drucker had seen two of them before. They'd interrogated him. The third, who sat in the middle, wore a Wehrmacht Wehrmacht major's tunic. He was young, but had a face like a steel trap: all sharp edges and angles, without humor, without mercy. Drucker wondered why he hadn't served in the SS rather than the Army. Whatever the reason, he feared he wouldn't get much of a fair trial here. major's tunic. He was young, but had a face like a steel trap: all sharp edges and angles, without humor, without mercy. Drucker wondered why he hadn't served in the SS rather than the Army. Whatever the reason, he feared he wouldn't get much of a fair trial here.

"We, the Volk Volk of the of the Reich, Reich, bring the accused traitor, Johannes Drucker, before the bar of justice here," the major said. bring the accused traitor, Johannes Drucker, before the bar of justice here," the major said.

Drucker wasn't invited to sit down. He sat anyway. The guards growled. The major glowered, but didn't say anything. Drucker did: "All I've ever wanted to do was find my family. That's not treason. I haven't done anything that is treason, either."

One of his interrogators said, "A Lizard was doing you a favor. Why would the Lizards do you a favor if you weren't a traitor?"

"We've been over this before," Drucker said, as patiently as he could. "They knew who I am because I flew the upper stage of an A-45. They captured me in s.p.a.ce, and held me till the fighting was over. I suppose they were helping me because the Fuhrer Fuhrer was my old commandant at Peenemunde. He was generous enough to send me that wire. I heard some of my family might be down in Neu Strelitz, so I asked the Lizards for a lift. I'd walked from Nuremberg to Greifswald. If I didn't have to walk again, I didn't want to. That's all. It's simple, really." was my old commandant at Peenemunde. He was generous enough to send me that wire. I heard some of my family might be down in Neu Strelitz, so I asked the Lizards for a lift. I'd walked from Nuremberg to Greifswald. If I didn't have to walk again, I didn't want to. That's all. It's simple, really."

It wasn't so simple. He said not a word about Mordechai Anielewicz. If the holdouts learned he'd consorted with a Jew, he was was a dead man. a dead man.

By the hard-faced young major's eyes, he was liable to be a dead man any which way. The officer-evidently the leader of this band of holdouts-said, "You were consorting with the enemy. No proper citizen of the Reich Reich should have anything to do with the Lizards under any circ.u.mstances." should have anything to do with the Lizards under any circ.u.mstances."

Drucker glared at him. "Oh, for Christ's sake," he said, not so patiently any more. Maybe losing his temper was a mistake, but he couldn't help it. "I started out in the Wehrmacht Wehrmacht when you were in short pants. I was a panzer driver. If I hadn't been shooting up Lizard landcruisers then, you wouldn't be here to call me a traitor now." when you were in short pants. I was a panzer driver. If I hadn't been shooting up Lizard landcruisers then, you wouldn't be here to call me a traitor now."