Heavy snowfall and the silence it brought laid an air of solemnity on the meeting room. Colors and ornaments seemed unreal.

Nansen took stance before the semicircle of chairs. His gaze ranged briefly over his crew. He had come to know them as well as he had known parents and siblings on the estancia, who were dust these five thousand years; but how well does one human being ever really know another?

Kilbirnie met the glance and joy flamed up in hers. A quieter happiness wrapped Yu and Sundaram like a shared cloak. Mokoena and Zeyd were as content as ever. Dayan and Ruszek were — well, friendly, anyhow, he perhaps more than that.

Grim Brent and haggard young Cleland remained. Poor devils. Maybe things would have been simpler if two of the persons who applied and qualified for berths, so long ago, had chanced to be homosexual. Or maybe not.

"The meeting will please come to order," Nansen said. He insisted on formal procedure at gatherings like this, for the same reason he insisted on proper attire whenever they ate supper together. Ritual was a bulwark against chaos in the spirit.

And obviousness could soothe, thereby helping clear the mind to think about what might not be obvious. "It may seem absurdly unnecessary. Haven't we talked and disputed enough? But I repeat what I have often said before, we must present our positions in an orderly manner, both for the record and because it is prudent. I trust those of you who wish to speak have prepared their words with care. Furthermore, some new and important information has come to my attention, which you should all hear.

"After our discussion we'll take a preliminary, nonbinding vote on whether to return to Earth at the end of this terrestrial year, if not a little sooner, or set our contract aside — as it provides we may — and first make an expedition to the black hole. You know I personally favor the expedition —"

"Cheers, skipper!" Kilbirnie shouted. "What've we come this weary way for, if not to explore?"

Nansen frowned fondly at her. "Order, please. I'll be as impartial a chairman as I can. To begin with, for the log, let us declare our opinions, though there will be no surprises. Will those in favor of a black hole venture please raise their hands?"

Kilbirnie's shot up. Dayan's was nearly as quick. Sundaram's came after in more deliberate fashion. Then Yu's and Ruszek's rose. Reluctant, those two, Nansen understood, but loyal to their lovers.

"Opposed?" Brent and Cleland responded at once, Mokoena and Zeyd slowly. "Thank you. A well-reasoned presentation may change somebody's view. Dr. Sundaram, I believe you wish to speak." For the record, the database, the history that perhaps no historian on Earth will get to write.

The linguist nodded, smiling at first, soon gaining a fervor they had rarely seen in him. "As you say, Captain, what can I say that has not been said among us a lakh of times? This is an incredible opportunity. The physics of black holes is Hanny's department, and conceivably humans will have observed several in person when we return. Or conceivably not. The apparent limitations and mortality of interstellar connection do suggest that they will not have done so. But in all events, the life, the intelligence at this one may well be unique. From it we may receive a revelation as profound as any that our species has ever been vouchsafed. I feel more than curiosity, I feel a moral obligation to learn what we can."

"Hear, hear!" sang out Kilbirnie.

"Dr. Dayan, you have something to add, don't you?" Nansen prompted.

The physicist nodded. "Yes. It concerns the possibility that a zero-zero drive, borrowing substrate energy, may kick the universe out of its metastable state and set off an expanding sphere of annihilation. The probability is exceedingly small. I can't give you a number, because I'm still at work trying to acquire the theory. The Tahirians seem to have developed a concept of probability that denies it can ever be zero. There is always a minimal chance of an event, finite though tiny. I think of it as the Planck probability."

"Get to the point, will you?" Brent grumbled. Nansen frowned, but before he could reprove, Dayan continued.

"Well," she said, "inframinuscule though the chance of any given voyage bringing on destruction is — the likelihood of a quantum gate malfunction wrecking just a single ship is immensely greater — nevertheless, a few of you, like some Tahirians, question whether anyone should make any trips. Is our duty not to go straight home, hearing this news, and do what we can to end human starfaring, too?"

She looked around. "My word today — so far I've only told the captain — is that the Tahirian theorem doesn't feel quite right to me. I don't grasp the mathematics fully enough yet to identify a mistake, and perhaps there is none. Call this a hunch, and remember that hunches are wrong more often than not. However, the fact is that the theorem is based on things the Tahirians learned at the black hole. They did not go back there more than twice. I suspect, and Captain Nansen agrees, this was in part because they were so horrified. They never established more than rudimentary communication with the aliens. Therefore, it's possible that the math is correct but a premise or two are false, that the Tahirians misunderstood something or obtained poor data, and the danger does not exist.

"We can only find out by conducting our own investigation. I may add that Colin, who's a physicist enself, is afire to go."

Dayan gestured to signify that she was done. Ruszek patted her back. She smiled at him and laid a hand on his thigh.

Yes, they are doing well together, Nansen thought. As well, at least, as two such different souls can. Or so I suppose. Maybe the well-being is what let her go through that mathematics as fast and brilliantly as she did.

However that is, the exchange of mates with Mam seems to have worked for them. Outright promiscuity might help others  —  No, it's not in most of these natures. Certainly not in mine. I still have to resist resenting, just a little, what happened before Jean and I —

He quelled that recollection and responded to Dayan's speech. "A number of Tahirians are. If anything, we'll have a problem choosing among them. But let us hear from the opposition. Mr. Brent?"

The second engineer jumped up, stepped to the front, and stood like a military officer addressing his troops. His tone, though, flowed now angry, now patient, now amiable, now rising with controlled passion. He was much the best public speaker of the ten.

"Oh, you've heard it. What I can't figure out is why you don't see it. Look, we've found plenty here, biology, planetology, a whole civilized race and a lot about another, and why a civilization that spans the stars is too damn likely to decay. Plus wonderful technology, the field drive, moon-sculpting ion beams focused by a giant planet's magnetic field, geological forces put to work — and what we got at the star cluster — all those powers that our race could make such use of. Yes, maybe people at home have invented everything for themselves. But maybe they haven't, and that's my guess. Certainly they know nothing about Tahir. That knowledge might well show them how to keep their interstellar travel alive.

"Dr. Dayan has just told us that this business about ships threatening the whole vast universe isn't proven. That's a service to humankind." Odd, bow grudging his praise sounds, Nansen thought. "It bears out my gut feeling. I believe that what the universe is about is not self-destruction, but destiny.

"However, be that as it may, I must disagree with your proposal, Dr. Dayan. We can't risk losing what we've gained, everything we've got to give our race, on a crazily dangerous jaunt for no guaranteed prize whatsoever. Our duty is to bring the treasures back, including some hard-won wisdom."

A point, Nansen conceded. Although I think he sees himself as coming to Earth like Moses down from Mount Sinai, prophet and leader.

"It — it is full of danger, the mission," Cleland croaked. "Everything we know about b-black holes says so. And how much don't we know? And we're tired, we've been n-nearly six of our years gone, we're not . . . not fit to deal with it. For God's sake, let's go home! The damned black hole can wait another ten thousand years."

Brent nodded approval and returned to his seat. I know why you want an end to our voyage, Tim, Nansen thought with pity. Mokoena raised her hand. He recognized her.

"Everybody knows Selim and I would personally prefer to start directly homeward," the biologist said. "The black hole sounds fascinating, even to a physical-science layman like me. The risks are real. But I think if we decide to go there, we will be able to cope —"

"As well as God allows," Zeyd murmured.

" — and this is a fantastic chance, which may well never come again. Ten thousand years are insignificant cosmically, but historically it's a very long span. Yes, biologically, too. Whole new species have evolved in shorter periods. Here we are. Who knows what they will be like on Earth when we tell them?"

"What Mam means," said Zeyd, "is that she and I are persuadable in either direction."

"These are factors for us to take into account," Nansen agreed. "As you are aware, but for the record, there is another. The Tahirians. We would need some of them along, for their special knowledge and their intuitive grasp of quantum mechanics. It could make a critical difference."

Kilbirnie laughed. "We've already noted we'll have no dearth of volunteers. They think their world has been stagnating quite long enough."

"I wouldn't call it stagnant," Cleland argued. "I'd call it, uh, stable. That's how most of them see it."

"How the reactionaries among them do," Dayan snapped.

"Please, no swear words," Yu said gently. "Let us call them the conservatives."

"Exactly," Brent declared. "We shouldn't make more trouble for these people than we already have. Let's go and leave them in their peace. We're human. Starfaring is in our nature, not theirs. It's a birthright we've got to secure for our race."

"I wonder about that," Yu said. "How many cultures in Earth's history ever actually bred explorers?"

"Order, order," Nansen called. "We're drifting from the issue. Dr. Sundaram, do I see your hand?"

The linguist spoke with his wonted care. "The question is not irrelevant, Captain. The Tahirians face the basic problem of balancing an instinct for the hierarchy that challenge evokes against the threat to hierarchy that radical change poses. They have solved the problem by creating a remarkable combination of incentive and dynamism, especially in the arts and entertainment, with a system of negative feedbacks that keeps society, population, and global ecology in equilibrium. But although it has endured for centuries, that equilibrium is vulnerable. I think this was a strong factor in their decision to terminate interstellar travel. Certainly many of them fear that a revival of it, with all the input that will entail, may undermine this society their ancestors built."

"And many just don't want to be bothered with new ideas," Kilbirnie snapped. "I'll wager that's predisposed them to suppose starships are a menace to everything."

"Jean, that is unfair," Yu said. "Most are sincere, I'm sure. And we know a growing number welcome us and actually want a future that will be different from the past."

"Isn't this another side issue?" Zeyd asked.

"Not really," Nansen replied. "I have news of my own for this meeting. We've all formed our impressions of what the Tahirian attitudes are. Probably the impressions are biased because, in the nature of the case, we've mainly been with those who are glad of our presence. I have been 'talking' more systematically, these past several weeks. Meanwhile, Tahirians have been making decisions of their own.

"The conservatives — let's use that word, and never mind now whether they're a majority or a minority or such concepts mean anything to them — the conservatives demand, if we go to the black hole, we take representatives of theirs along, as Envoy did to the pulsar."

"Yeah, I knew that," Brent said. "I've been 'talking' around, too. Your friends Colin and Fernando, my friends Leo and Peter. But we aren't going if I can help it."

"Can you help it, Al?" Kilbirnie purred.

Nansen lifted his palm. "No bickering, please. The fact is, spokes-people for the conservatives have been quite frank with us. They won't allow us and the, um, adventurers of their race to set out for the black hole unless several of them do, too. They can enforce this. We do need Tahirians with us, and not even the boldest will defy the, hm, moral suasion. This is a consensus society, after all, and they have to live in it after they return."

"The requirement is not unreasonable," Sundaram said. "Their group is entitled to full information about events, to use in arguing their case for the status quo."

"I didn't mean it's unreasonable," Nansen answered. "I only meant it's another factor to take into account."

"But — Jesus Christ," Cleland choked, "isn't anybody taking th-the extra time into account? Five hundred light-years to there, five hundred back to leave the Tahirians off — if we survive the . . . the damned escapade  —  another thousand years before we see Earth!"

An added two and a half months of voyage, for us, Nansen thought. Worse is the time we'll spend at the black hole, doubtless at least a year, probably more. All the while, Tim, you will see Jean every day, and cannot have her again.

I wonder if you hate me.

Kilbirnie was laughing, "What difference does that make by now?" while Zeyd mused, "Set beside the discoveries we can hope for —" Nansen foreknew what the final tally of votes would be.