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fluttered to the walkway. The two ribbons of the bow were twined around each
other, snarled into one.
Helion politely turned his back, and pretended to consult his pocketwatch.
"Isn't it more traditional for the man to kneel on occasions of this nature?"
he inquired of no one in particular.
Diomedes of Neptune and a mannequin representing Marshal Atkins came out from
a nearby railway terminal and began sliding along the surface of the walkway
toward them.
Helion walked toward the two men, using a mental command to nullify the action
of the surface substance of the walkway, which otherwise would have carried
him forward without effort. His love of discipline required that he avoid,
when he could, such artificial aids for walking.
Atkins saw what was taking place over Helion's shoulder, dug in his heel as a
signal to stop the walkway. Either through politeness or embarrassment, Atkins
cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back, and stepped to one side
of Helion, turning to face him, so that he was not looking at the source of
the moans, giggles, and murmurs beyond.
Atkins said to Helion, "I've examined your records. You'll be happy to know
that the previous Sophotechs working on this station were not destroyed
because of catastrophic failure of the energy environment, as you thought.
They committed suicide in order to stop the spread of the mental virus which
had taken control of them. They were gambling that your previous version would
be able to quell the storm without their aid. The good news there is that
means your present system looks secure. In order to drive the Phoenix Exultant
down toward the core, we need you to use your Array to
create a subduction current in the plasma, large enough and fast enough a
whirlpool, actually to suck the ship down into the location in the outer core
radiative zone where the enemy is waiting. Can you do it?"
"I can bring two equatorial currents into offset collision to create a vortex
whose core will have low density, creating a sunspot large enough to swallow
planets whole. How far down into the opaque deep of the sun I can drive the
vortex funnel, or what unprecedented storms and helmet streamers will result,
remains yet to be seen. Hello, Captain Atkins. It is good to see you. How do
you do? I am fine, thank you. I see the passing centuries have not altered
your ... ah ... refreshingly brusque manners."
Atkins's face was stony. "Some of us don't think polished formalities are the
most important thing in life, if you don't mind my saying so, sir. Not when
there is a war on."
Helion arched an eyebrow. "Indeed, sir? Those niceties which make us
civilized, in the opinion of many accomplished and profound thinkers, are of
more importance during emergencies than otherwise. And if not to protect
civilization, what justification does the mass slaughter called war ever
have?"
"Don't start with me, Mr. Rhadamanth. This is an emergency."
Diomedes, meanwhile, was leaning to look behind Helion, staring with open
fascination at the display Phaethon and Daphne made. "I have not seen
non-parthenogenic bioforms before. Are they going to copulate?"
Atkins and Helion looked at him, then looked at each other. A glance of
understanding passed between them.
Atkins put his hand on Diomedes's elbow, and pulled him back in front of
Helion. "Perhaps not at this time," Atkins said, straight-faced.
"They are young and in love," explained Helion, stepping so as to block
Diomedes's view. "So perhaps the excesses and, ah, exuberance of their, ah,
greeting, can be overlooked this once."
Diomedes craned his neck, trying to peer past Helion. "There's nothing like
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that on Neptune."
Helion murmured, "Perhaps certain peculiarities of the Neptunian character are
thereby clarified, hmm ... ?"
"It looks very old-fashioned," said Diomedes.
Helion said, "It is that most ancient and most precious romantic character of
mankind which impels all great men to their greatness."
Atkins said, "It's what young men do before they go to war."
Diomedes said, "It is not the way Cerebellines or Compositions or
Hermaphrodites or Neptunians arrange these matters. I'm not sure I see the
value of it. But it looks interesting. Do all Silver-Gray get to do that? I
wonder if Phaethon would mind if I helped him."
"He'd mind." Atkins interrupted curtly. "Really. He'd mind."
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