reconnaissance?"

"Yes, toward Cantos."

"Deviate course. There is nothing there."

"Where should we go instead?"

Salnikov gave a set of coordinates: a straight line out from the
planet, directly opposed to its trajectory, as it sought to cross the
intersection of its figure-eight orbit, and begin to move around the
second sun.

"What should we look for?"

"An enormous station, over one hundred kilometers across. You won't
pick it up on laser or visual, but if you send someone out you will see
it clear enough."

"What is its function?"

"We don't know, and we are not about to go in and find out. But its
location is suspicious. That is all I can say."

".....okay. Thank you, Vladimir."

"Good luck, Nicholai. I think that you will need it." The screen went
blank.

"Leon. go down to the lower communication room and signal all bases. I
want everyone off---everyone. These domes won't hold forever. I'm
going to try and reach Percy."

Without further speech his son was gone. He leaned over the railing
and tried, and after twenty minutes finally succeeded, in reaching the
racing ship.

The planet had been evacuated. The heads of the geological and mining
crews, along with military, scientific and governmental heads from the
three colonies, were huddled together in a briefing room aboard the
space station 'Lynx'. Dobrynin stood behind the podium and signaled
for quiet, wanting desperately to get started. If only he could get
his hands to work at something. He tapped the quiet buzzer impatiently.

"Gentlemen, please. We haven't much time." Those still standing were
seated, and the last rustle of voices died away. All eyes went forward.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you the spot we're in," he began. "You
all know that ML One is in trouble. What you don't know is why. I
have just learned myself, and it is hard to believe. But it's true.
The orbit of Marcum-Lauries is being tampered with from outside. The
problem is man-made."

Expressions of shock and disbelief. TIMID FOOLS, thought Dobrynin,
THAT IS ALL FOR THE GOOD. THAT WE CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT. But there
were others who said nothing: the miners, the workers. They, too,
only wanted to know what could be done.

He dimmed the lights and switched a graphic onto the wall-screen behind
him: a binary system, the elliptical figure-eight of the planet's
orbit encircling two nearly identical suns. He pointed to the lower
ri