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for the recording devices, “That’s the wrong planet!”
    “Nothing to do but start over,” Kaufman said. “But, Marbet, it will take a while. We don’t need to waste funds on a hotel, do we? Do you think we can still move in with your friend Amy?”
    “Yes, she’ll be glad to have us,” Marbet said. “She told me just yesterday to come anytime. I’ll start packing.”
    Let the State Department, or whoever, spend time looking for “Amy.” Or looking for Lyle and Marbet, for that matter. They had wanted to do this legitimately, but had made contingency plans in case they couldn’t. There was, as the government endlessly reminded everyone, a war on.
    Every single war ever fought anywhere had spawned shadow battles between the warring governments and their own citizens. Black markets, war profiteering, blockade runners, quislings, conscientious objectors, organized crime and its less organized siblings. False government contracts, false traveling papers, false bills of lading, false passenger lists, and, for the really sophisticated, falsifying deebee programs. All it took were contacts and money.
    Marbet had money. Kaufman, the career soldier, had not wanted to go underground for their expedition. Kaufman, the decent man, hadn’t wanted to break the law. Kaufman, the ex-military attaché to the Solar Council in the war’s hub at Lowell City, of course knew the people who knew the contacts.
    There was no way Kaufman or Marbet could give practical help to Tom Capelo. They weren’t even close friends; neither Kaufman nor Marbet had seen the physicist in nearly two years, although Marbet chatted occasionally via comlink with Capelo’s daughter Amanda. She was a nice child, with a schoolgirl crush on Marbet. But Amanda had much closer ties, friends and family, in this awful crisis. When Kaufman thought of everything that had happened on World, it was no longer Thomas Capelo he thought of, but Dieter Gruber and Ann Sikorski. Left behind on World by his, Kaufman’s, decision, in the middle of a toppling civilization Kaufman had single handedly wrecked.
    Marbet pulled out her case to start packing.

FOUR
    LUNA CITY
    A manda couldn’t believe it. Marbet was gone.
    “Are you sure?” she said to Marbet’s neighbor, the fat, kind woman who lived in the next apartment in Marbet’s strange underground “building.”
    “I’m sure, honey,” the woman said, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She had a strange accent. Somewhere behind her a baby wailed. “She gave me the code to her place, in case there’s some sort of emergency. Went off to join her lover, she did.”
    Amanda folded her hands tightly together, a new habit. “Could I see inside her apartment?”
    The woman hesitated.
    “Please. I’m her niece. My stepfather and I weren’t told she was going anyplace.”
    The woman glanced from Amanda to Father Emil, standing several paces back in the curving corridor. Father Emil wore black pants and shirt, although both were cleaner than they had been at his mission. The woman shook her head.
    “I’m sorry, honey. Marbet didn’t say I could let anyone in. You look all right, but she didn’t say I could.”
    “But—”
    The woman’s kind eyes grew harder. Behind Amanda, Father Emil said, That’s enough, Jane. Come on, now. Thank you, ma’am.”
    The woman nodded, looking troubled. Amanda could see she wanted to help, but she also wanted to protect Marbet. That was nice; many people were too uncomfortable around Marbet to want to be friends. Amanda tried to smile at her before trudging back to Father Emil. Amanda had never thought beyond getting to Marbet. Now Marbet was on Mars, or so she’d told this neighbor, and what was Amanda going to do now?
    “I’m sorry, honey,” the woman called after her. “But I know you want your aunt to be happy. It wouldn’t surprise me if she married that Colonel Kaufman on this romantic trip they’re taking.”
    Amanda stopped walking. Marbet and Colonel