The Braided World Read Free Page A

of Earth.
    Nick hastened to add, “Even if we have to run that ocean through a sieve.”
    The competition was heating up, the last thing she wanted. Especially since she'd already made up her mind.
    “Bailey,” Anton said. “May I say something?”
    “No fair,” Nick said, half joking. “No speeches.”
    He waved Nick off, looking at Bailey. Getting her permission, he said, “I never looked for this post, Bailey. Never thought in a million years that I'd be considered to captain the
Restoration.
I don't know why Commander Strahan isn't in here, but I assume you've given him the job. I figure that's fair. You don't need to explain. Maybe you shouldn't explain why you didn't pick us.” He smiled. “For our morale.”
    Nick looked at Bailey, in surprise. “Commander Strahan doesn't have the time in service that either one of us do. He might be older, but that doesn't make him a better officer.” He shifted uneasily in his chair.
    Bailey held up her hands. “Don't jump to conclusions.” She knew whom she would pick, but she dreaded making it final. Either one of them could take command. They'd been trained for command, an eventual one. They'd both served under an excellent officer, none better. Along with the entire crew, they had been studying the native language for two years, on the approach to Neshar, after the language program had cracked the translation and assembled a decent lexicon. They were both fluent. As model officers andgood crewmates, they had dispatched themselves with equal ability. She liked them both.
    But Anton was her favorite. He was not as decisive as Nick, nor as popular, though the crew liked him well enough. He kept himself the slightest bit apart. Of course, he was born to privilege, and it did show. She couldn't hold that against him, because in her classical singing career she had moved in wealthy circles. So, as for Anton's aristocratic bearing, Bailey thought she understood him. Nick, on the other hand, came from a humble background. He was book-smart if not wise, perhaps even impulsive. This quality made it easier for Nick to make a decision. So far, they'd all been good ones, but she'd only been watching him for three years.
    She had to admit her choice wasn't entirely logical. The whole mission, for God's sake, was flying in the face of the
facts
, in favor of intuition.
    “I've decided on Anton,” she said. She let that hang in the air.
    Anton swallowed, looking stuck to his chair.
    Nick closed his eyes. When he opened them, he turned to Anton and offered his hand. “Congratulations, Anton.” He smiled. “Captain.”
    “My God, Nick,” Anton said. He took the hand. “Thank you.” Turning to Bailey, he began, “But Strahan—”
    She held him off. “Commander Strahan is needed up here for the engineering side of things. He was never in the equation.” The other likely candidate, Lieutenant Brigid Dahlstrom, had succumbed to the virus two weeks ago.
    Nick said, “Can I ask what you based your decision on?”
    Bailey was grateful for the excuse that Anton had unwittingly provided. She said, “Perhaps
for the sake of morale
, I won't justify myself. Except to say this: Nick, you're the only anthropologist who isn't in the medical suite. You'll be on the ground mission, if the captain agrees.” Anton looked as though he
should
be in the medical suite.
    She went on, “You'll be busy, Nick. Whoever is downthere, whatever the nature of that culture, you'll be doing the analysis, making the interpretations. You'll be busy” Anton's specialty was astrophysics, a discipline not especially needed at this juncture. He could be spared to lead the most important endeavor in the history of the world.
    Anton turned to Bailey His dark eyes wavered. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him he was ready, although it wouldn't do to treat him like a grandson with a scraped knee. And she wasn't altogether sure he
was
ready, but the choices were few and time was wasting.
    Nick clapped a hand