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A.J. stared at her incredulously. "You wouldn't dare!"



"That's not a bluff, A.J. Ask the captain."



"She's got the authority, A.J. And if you go ahead, she can probably charge you with some kind of federal crime that'll land you in prison for a while."



Hathaway's voice was cold, as were his eyes looking at Madeline. Then he turned his head and bestowed the same cold gaze on A.J., who was staring at him in disbelief. "A.J., you'll have to let her decide what gets sent and what doesn't."



"The hell I will!" The blond imaging expert whirled on her, reaching out. "You listen to me, you—"



Her body was already in motion. She had been practicing moves both in microgravity and in one-third gravity, using both the Nike's ring and hub, every day since the voyage began. Not that the outcome was ever in doubt, despite the fact that A.J. outmassed her almost two to one.



Arms met, one deflecting the other, catching, turning, pulling—



A.J. smashed hard against the wall. The grunt he gave was audible throughout the room. Then, to her surprise, A.J. chuckled, albeit with some rather pained overtones. "Jesus H. Particular Christ on a pogo stick. You've been playing the game that deep?"



"I'm sorry. Really, I didn't want to do that. Or any of this."



"Then why are you, Madeline?" Joe asked gently, as she released A.J., who was dabbing at a cut lip. She tentatively handed the information expert a tissue, which he accepted without comment. Then she looked at Joe.



"Because not everyone is an angel, Joe, or even a decent imitation of a saint."



"Except our blessed government, of course."



"It tries, at least!" she said, keeping a tight leash on her voice. "As technology advances, Joe, it becomes easier and easier for smaller and smaller groups to become threats. There are software/hardware packages out there now allowing people to prototype new gadgets in their home for a few thousand dollars. And there's not a damn way to control what they make, despite all the tricks people have tried to build into the hardware and software. No matter how smart your security people are, the hackers and crackers are always just a little smarter. Hand them the blueprints and they make it. Do you think psychopaths and terrorists won't use anything they can get their hands on? Do you think every government out there is happy with ours? Have you studied history, or are you ready to repeat it? Create a new weapon, someone will use it eventually. Create a new technology, and one of the first things someone will do is figure out how it can be used to kill people. Of course our government isn't perfect, but your choice is to just let information run free. Well, information is a weapon. Perhaps the most powerful weapon of mass destruction ever invented. And I'm trying to keep those weapons out of the wrong hands for as long as I can. Because I know all about the 'wrong hands,' Joe."



Silently, she cursed herself. The last line showed her just how very personally involved she had gotten, how precariously weak her objectivity had become. She hadn't meant to refer to that at all, not even in private, let alone here. Only Joe would understand the reference, in the first place. It wasn't the sort of thing a professional should ever let slip. She hadn't made mistakes like that for years.



"You know this is going to break down the very minute shuttle service starts, right?" A.J. said finally, after a long silence.



She nodded. "Yes, I know. But a year or so lead will be much better than nothing."



A.J. glanced at Joe. She suddenly realized that A.J. trusted Joe's instincts more than his own—which meant he was in some ways a lot wiser than she'd given him credit for.



Joe looked over at Captain Hathaway, who was grimly silent, then tilted his head in a reluctant half-nod.



A.J. turned to Barbara. "Barb, we're going to all have to get together on this." Madeline tensed. "The situation sucks—and you can bet we'll all have something to say about it when we get home. But we can't afford to turn Phobos and Nike into war zones, and that's about what we'd have to do in order to stop her."



The glance he gave Madeline was half-angry and half-admiring. "She's good. I didn't realize until just now how very good she is. I guess we should feel kinda flattered, seeing as how they sent the female equivalent of James Bond out to watch us. She's been hiding a lot of what she can do, just to make sure she had a lot of reserves. What are we gonna do, shove her out the airlock? If she was crazy or something, well, we could lock her up, but she's just doing her job. If we fight her, yeah, we'll win. Here. But we've got to go home someday, and while you might just walk away, we won't."