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included an eidetic memory that allowed him to keep track of not only any bet he made, for how much and with whom and what odds, but every parcel, package, crate, and canister in his keeping. Desi Arthied, his second-in-command, often found his superior’s levity a trial, but he respected Lilienkamp’s abilities. It would be Desi’s job to shift the cargo that Joel designated to the loading decks and on board the shuttles.
    “Civilians? Who don’t know you very well, do they?” Paul asked dryly, taking his seat and smiling noncommittally at Avril Bitra, who had been in charge of the simulation exercises. Ambition had hardened her. He wished that he had not spent so much of his waking time during the voyage involved with the sultry brunette, but she
was
stunning. Soon they would all be too busy for personal relationships. More and more attractive young women were appearing in the corridors. He wanted one of them to want to marry Paul Benden, not “the admiral.” Just then, the two screens lit up, the right-hand one displaying Ezra Keroon’s saturnine countenance, with his distinctive fringe of gray hair, and the left showing Jim Tillek, his square face wearing his usual cheerful expression.
    “G’day, Paul,” he said, just ahead of Ezra’s more formal salute.
    “Admiral,” Ezra said solemnly. “I beg to report that we have maintained our programmed course to the minute. Estimated arrival to parking orbit is now forty-six hours, thirty-three minutes, and twenty seconds. No deviations anticipated at this point in time.”
    “Very good, Captain,” Paul said, returning the salute. “Any problems?”
    Both captains reported that their revival programs were continuing without incident and that their shuttles were ready for launch once orbit had been achieved.
    “Now that we know when, the matter of where is open for discussion,” Paul said, leaning back in his chair to signal that comment was invited.
    “So, tell us, Paul,” Joel Lilienkamp said with his usual disregard for protocol, “where’re we landing?” All through the Nathi War, Joel’s impertinence had amused Paul Benden at a time when amusement was scarce, and he had consistently proved himself a near miraculous scavenger. His impudence caused Ezra Keroon to frown, but Jim Tillek chuckled.
    “What are the odds, Lili?” he asked, his expression sly.
    “Let us discuss the matter without prejudice,” Paul suggested wryly. “The three sites recommended by the EEC team have now all been probed. If you will refer to the chart, the sites are at thirty south by thirteen point thirty, forty-five south by eleven, and forty-seven south by four point seven five.”
    “There’s really only one, Admiral, from my point of view,” Drake Bonneau interrupted excitedly, jabbing his finger at Paul’s own choice, the strato site. “Scuttlebug scans say it’s almost as level as if it had been graded for us, and broad enough to accommodate all six shuttles. The site at forty-five south eleven is waterlogged right now, and the western one is too far from the ocean. Temperature readings are near freezing.”
    Paul saw Kenjo’s nod of agreement. He glanced at the two screens. Ezra’s growing bald spot was evident as he bent to consult his notes; unconsciously, Paul smoothed back his own thick hair.
    “That thirty south is nearer sea for me,” Jim Tillek remarked amiably. “Good harbor about fifty klicks away. River’s navigable, too.” Tillek’s interest in sailing vessels was exceeded only by his love of dolphins. Accessibility to open water would be a high factor in his choice.
    “Good heights for observatory and met stations all right,” Ezra replied, “though we’ve no real criterion from those reports about climatology. Don’t fancy settling that close to volcanoes myself.”
    “A point, Ezra, but—” Paul paused to screen the relevant data for a quick scan. “No seismic readings were recorded, so I don’t see volcanic activity as an