d her special contribution to the
blue cloud in the room after she sat down.

"Excuse me," she said. "I couldn't help that. Please go on." Which I
hope relieves you of any fear that she's an Unforgettable Character.
Oh, yes, she's old as Satan now; her toil and guts and conniving make
up half the biography of the Sword; she manned a gun turret at Ceres,
and was mate of the _Tyrfing_ on some of the earliest Saturn runs when
men took their lives between their teeth because they needed both
hands free; her sons and grandsons fill the Belt with their brawling
ventures; she can drink any ordinary man to the deck; she's one of the
three women ever admitted to the Club. But she's also one of the few
genuine ladies I've known in my life.

"Uh, well," Lindgren grinned at her. "I was saying, Missy, the germ of
the revolution was when the Stations armed themselves. You see, that
meant more than police powers. It implied a degree of sovereignty.
Over the years, the implication grew."

"Correct." Orloff nodded his bald head. "I remember how the Governing
Commission squalled when the Station managers first demanded the
right. They foresaw trouble. But if the Stations belonging to one
country put in space weapons, what else could the others do?"

"They should have stuck together and all been firm about refusing to
allow it," Amspaugh said. "From the standpoint of their own best
interests, I mean."

"They tried to," Orloff replied. "I hate to think how many
communications we sent home from our own office, and the others must
have done the same. But Earth was a long way off. The Station bosses
were close. Inverse square law of political pressure."

"I grant you, arming each new little settlement proved important,"
Amspaugh said. "But really, it expressed nothing more than the first
inchoate stirrings of asteroid nationalism. And the origins of that
are much more subtle and complex. For instance ... er...."

"You've got to have a key event somewhere," Lindgren insisted. "I say
that this was it."

A silence fell, as will happen in conversation. I came back from the
bar and settled myself beside Missy. She looked for a while into her
drink, and then out to the stars. The slow spin of our rock had now
brought the Dippers into view. Her faded eyes sought the Pole
Star--but it's Earth's, not our own any more--and I wondered what
memories they were sharing. She shook herself the least bit and said:

"I don't know about the sociologi