"I get it," Dan said. "You're in a hurry."

Fuchs turned red.

"I want to give the bride away," Dan said.

"Sure. Fine," said Pancho. "I'll set up the comm link." She headed back toward the bridge.

It took longer to make the arrangements than to perform the ceremony, even with a twelve-minute lag between the ship and Selene. Amanda and Fuchs stood by Dan's bunk with Pancho behind them. They had no flowers, no wedding attire except the coveralls they'd been wearing. The minister appeared on the wall screen opposite Dan's bunk. He was the pastor of Selene's interfaith chapel, a Lutheran: an ascetically thin young German with hair so blond it looked nearly white. Amanda could see that he was in his office, not the chapel itself. That didn't matter, she told herself. He conducted the brief rite in English and with great dignity, despite the time lag between them.

"Do each of you take the other for your lawful spouse?" the young minister asked.

"I do," said Fuchs immediately.

"I do," Amanda said.

They stood there feeling foolish and fidgety for the six minutes it took their response to reach the minister and the six additional minutes it took his words to reach them.

At last he said, "Then I p.r.o.nounce you husband and wife. Congratulations. You may kiss the bride."

Amanda turned to Fuchs and they embraced. Pancho thanked the minister and cut the electronic link. The wall screen went dark.

They turned to Dan, lying in his bunk.

"He's fallen asleep," Amanda whispered. But she stared at Dan's sweat-stained tee-shirt. His chest didn't seem to be moving.

Fuchs leaned over the bunk and pressed two fingers against Dan's carotid artery.

"I don't feel a pulse," he said.

Pancho grabbed Dan's wrist. "No pulse," she agreed.

"He's dead?" Amanda asked, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

Fuchs nodded solemnly.

LIFE.

Pancho's heart was thumping, and not merely from the heavier gravity of Earth. The quarterly meeting of Astro Corporation's board of directors was about to begin. Would they follow Dan's wishes and vote her onto the board? And what if they do? What do I know about directing a big corporation? she asked herself.

Not much, she admitted. But if Dan thought I could do it, then I gotta at least give it my best shot.

She stared at the other directors as they milled around the sideboard of the luxurious meeting room, pouring drinks for themselves and picking out delicate little sandwiches and stuff. They all looked old, and dignified, and wicked rich. Most of the women wore dresses, by jeeps, or suits with skirts. Expensive clothes. Lots of jewelry, too. Pancho felt shabby in her best pantsuit and no adornments except for a bracelet and pendant earrings of lunar aluminum.

They were ignoring her. They clumped together in twos and threes, talking to each other in low voices, not whispers exactly, but little buzzing heads-together conversations. n.o.body even looked her way, yet Pancho got the feeling that were all talking about her.

Not even the plump oriental woman in the bright red dress spoke to her. She must know what it's like to be an outsider, Pancho thought. But she's keeping her distance, just like all the others.

Martin Humphries strode into the board room, decked out in a sky-blue business suit. Pancho clenched her fists. If he's in mourning for Dan he sure ain't showing it, she thought. None of them are.

Humphries nodded here and there, saying h.e.l.lo and making small talk as he made his way past the sideboard toward Pancho. He glanced once out the long window above the sideboard and seemed almost to wince at the view of the sea out there. Then he turned and came toward Pancho. Stopping a meter or so in front of her, Humphries looked Pancho up and down, the expression on his face pretty close to a sneer.

"Do you honestly think we're going to allow a roughneck grease monkey to have a seat on this board?"

Suppressing an urge to punch him out, Pancho said tightly, "We'll see purty soon, won't we?"

"We certainly will."

He was wearing his lifts, Pancho saw; still, Humphries was several centimeters shorter than she.

"What puzzles me," she said looking down into his ice-gray eyes, "is how they can allow a convicted murderer t' stay on the board."

"I wasn't convicted of murder!" Humphries snapped, keeping his voice low.

Pancho made a small shrug. "They found you guilty of causin' Dan Randolph's death, didn't they?"

"I pleaded guilty to involuntary manslaughter. That was the deal my lawyers set up for me."

"Selene's court was way too easy on you. I would've hanged you. And not by the neck, either."

"They made me divest my holdings in Starpower!" he snarled. "Made me turn over my one-third to them!"

"And Astro," Pancho corrected. "You can still make money off Dan's dead body outta the profits Astro's gonna be pullin' in."

"And they exiled me! Threw me out of Selene. Forbade me from returning for twenty years." He glanced over his shoulder at the view of the sea through the long sweeping window like a man looking back at something chasing him.

"You got off light," said Pancho. "Dr. Cardenas got a life sentence. She'll never be allowed to work in her own nanolab again."

"She was just as responsible for his death as I was. And so are you, for that matter."

"Me?"

"You were the captain of the vessel. You could have turned back once you realized the radiation shield was failing."

"Thanks to you."

Humphries smirked at her. "If Randolph had brought a proper medical man aboard, if he hadn't taken the ship before the IAA approved the flight-"

"That's right," Pancho growled, "blame the victim for the crime."

"You didn't even freeze him once he died. You didn't even try to."

"Wouldn't have done any good," Pancho said. "We couldn't've got his core temperature down quick enough."

They had thought about it, she and Mandy and Fuchs. They had even considered putting Dan's body into a s.p.a.cesuit and dunking him into one of the fuel tanks. But a quick calculation showed the cryogenic fuel would be used up by the time they reached the Moon and Dan's body would thaw before they could transfer him to a proper dewar.

Humphries smiled slyly. "Or maybe you wanted wanted him dead, so you could inherit from him?" him dead, so you could inherit from him?"

Pancho had her right fist c.o.c.ked before she realized it. Humphries threw his hands up and scuttled several steps back from her. Everything stopped. The board room went absolutely quiet. All faces turned toward them.

With a deep, deliberate breath, Pancho put her hand down. Humphries straightened up, looking sheepish. The other directors turned back to their own conversations, trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

Scowling angrily, Humphries walked away from her. Pancho saw that most of the directors moved out of his way as he approached the sideboard. As if they didn't want to be close enough to touch him or even have him breathe on them.

"I think we'd better start the meeting," said a pet.i.te red-haired woman in a forest-green skirted suit.

The directors went to the long polished table in the middle of the room and began to take their chairs. Pancho watched uncertainly for a moment, then saw that two chairs were unoccupied: one at the head of the table and another at its foot. Remembering her childhood bible cla.s.ses, she took the lowest chair. The redhead sat to the right of the empty chair at the table's head; Humphries sat opposite her, his back to the window.

Everyone looked around, as if wondering what to do next. The redhead slowly got to her feet.

"For those of you who don't know me," she said, looking down the table toward Pancho, "my name is Harriet O'Banian. As vice-chair for the board, I guess I'll have to run this meeting until a new chairperson is elected."

They all nodded. Pancho saw that a small display screen was built into the gleaming surface of the table in front of each place. It showed an abbreviated agenda.

"I'm going to dispense with the usual formalities," O'Banian said, "and proceed directly to -"

"May I interrupt?" Humphries asked, holding up his hand like a schoolboy.

O'Banian murmured, "Of course."

Rising to his feet, Humphries said earnestly, "I wasn't able to attend the emergency meeting of the board that was called when news of Dan Randolph's unfortunate death was revealed."

Unfortunate? Pancho snarled inwardly.

"You all know that his death was partially my own fault. I played too rough, and I've seen the consequences. Please believe me, I never wanted to have Dan die."

The h.e.l.l you didn't, Pancho said to herself. Looking along the table, though, she was shocked at the sympathetic expressions on many of the directors' faces.

"My real crime," Humphries went on, "was wanting to run Astro Corporation. And I let that ambition override my common sense. I saw Dan driving this fine organization into bankruptcy, and I knew that I could do better."

He stopped, hung his head for a moment. Pancho thought, The sumb.i.t.c.h should've been an actor.

"I'm truly sorry that Dan is dead. I feel a great weight of responsibility for it, even though that is not what I intended. I'll pay the price for my mistake for the rest of my life."

Pancho could barely keep herself from throwing something at him. But the other directors seemed calm, accepting.

Humphries wasn't through. "I know we can pull Astro through its current crisis. Despite Dan's unfortunate death, the mission to the Asteroid Belt was actually a success. Starpower Limited now has rights to two asteroids that are worth several trillion international dollars on today's commodities markets. And Astro, of course, owns one third of Starpower."

"One half," Pancho snapped.

Humphries stared at her for a long, speechless moment. "One half," he admitted at last. "That's right. Astro now owns half of Starpower."

"And Selene owns the other half," said Pancho.

Humphries bristled. Pancho grinned at him, thinking, I hope you choke on the money you'll be makin'.

Hattie O'Banian broke the tension-filled silence. "Thank you, Mr. Humphries. At this time, before we go on to the regular agenda, I would like to welcome Ms. Priscilla Lane to the board."

Pancho watched Humphries raise an eyebrow. Immediately, the oriental woman, sitting across the table from him, said, "Ms. Lane hasn't yet been elected to the board."

"I'm sure we can do that by acclamation," O'Banian said. "After all, Dan specifically-"

"It's customary to vote on a new member," said a florid-faced man with a full gray beard sitting a few chairs down from Humphries. "After all, a position on the board isn't hereditary," the florid man grumbled. He reminded Pancho of Santa Claus, except that he was nowhere near being jolly. "You can't inherit board membership just because a dying man willed it to you."

Pancho understood the implication. Cripes, they think I was sleepin' with Dan and that's why he named me to the board.

O'Banian looked displeased. "Very well, then. In that case, I believe we should allow Ms. Lane to say a few words about herself."

All faces turned toward Pancho. Thinking furiously, she got slowly to her feet.

In her mind she heard Dan telling her, My personnel people think you're a flake, Pancho. The rap on you is that you're not serious. personnel people think you're a flake, Pancho. The rap on you is that you're not serious. She knew that each member of the board had seen her personnel file. Okay, Pancho, she said to herself, time to grow up and start bein' serious. You're in the big leagues now. You gotta show them your best. She knew that each member of the board had seen her personnel file. Okay, Pancho, she said to herself, time to grow up and start bein' serious. You're in the big leagues now. You gotta show them your best.

She took a deep breath, then started, "I was just as surprised as any of you when Dan Randolph said he wanted me to take his place on this board. I'm an engineer and pilot, not a banker or a lawyer. But Dan said the board needed some fresh blood, and he picked me. So here I am."

Surveying the men and women watching her, Pancho went on, "I think I know why Dan wanted me here-and it wasn't for my good looks, either."

A few chuckles. O'Banian smiled broadly.

"With all due respect to you, I think this board could use somebody who has some practical experience in Astro's activities. Dan sure did, but I don't think any of you have been involved in the company's actual operations. I've been flyin' Astro s.p.a.cecraft for nearly seven years now. I've been out to the Belt and back. That's where our best chance of makin' real profits lies: out in the Belt. I know what it takes to get the job done. I think I can help this board to make the right decisions as we start to tap the resources of all those asteroids. Thank you."

She sat down. No one applauded. Humphries gave her a hard stare, then swept his eyes along the table, trying to fathom the opinions of the other directors.

"Oh, one more thing," Pancho said, without getting up from her chair. "If you do elect me to the board, I intend to vote for Ms. O'Banian as the new chairman."

Now Humphries scowled openly.

O'Banian said, "Very well. Let's vote, shall we? All in favor of Ms. Lane, raise your hands."

Two hours later, as the meeting broke up, Humphries accosted Pancho.

"Well, now you're a board member," he said "By the margin of two votes."

"And Ms. O'Banian is the chairman of the board."

Humphries scoffed, "Do you think that's going to stop me from taking control of Astro?"

"It won't stop you from tryin', I know that."

"I'll get Astro," he said firmly. "And Starpower, too, eventually."

"Maybe," said Pancho. "And maybe not."