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of living quarters, headquarters, spacedock admin, and supply, it was large enough and had the life-support infrastructure to house ten thousand people. A couple of USNA heavy cruisers, the San Francisco and the Memphis, had secured themselves to the structure to assist in station-keeping, and work to rejoin the structure to other parts ofthe military base was continuing.

“That’s going to take a while. I understand Moscow is already demanding that we release both the crew and the ship.”

“An interesting diplomatic situation, Admiral. The Russian Defense Minister is calling you a pirate.”

“At least the Navy’s sending up Marines to take over while the diplomats wrangle over who owns that ship.”

“And if that doesn’t start a new war,” Mackey said with wry, hangman’s humor, “I don’t know what will.”

Gray reconnected the data feed. “Hey, Mack?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“Take a look at this one target—one-one-five-niner.”

“I see it.”

“What is it?”

“Russian,” Mackey said. “Light freighter Tomsk. Launched ten minutes ago from the carrier Vladivostok, at SupraSingapore. Four-man crew . . . 15,000 tons.

“On a lunar insertion.”

Mackey shrugged. “Resupply for the Russian base? Manifest says she’s carrying food, carbon rawmat, precision tool parts, andmedical supplies.”

“Plenty of rawmat on the moon already.”

“Maybe their replicators are down.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” True. The Russians had several bases on the moon, actually, on both the near and the far sides. “Have Combattag that one, though, okay?”

“Yes, sir. You have a feeling?”

“Let’s just say I’m not the trusting sort. Three alien planetoid ships in orbit around the moon a day after Earth nearly getsfried . . . and the Russkies were playing games with the Nungies? I want to keep an eye on that ship.”

“You got it, Admiral.”

Gray decided that he needed to discuss things with Konstantin.

 

Gregory

The Godstream

1612 hours, FST

They floated together in wonder. . . .

Don Gregory clung to Julia, the frenetic urgency of their lovemaking now past, the afterglow warm and comfortable. That urgencyhad driven them both as Julia had awakened him, and neither had paid any attention at all to their surroundings.

Now, however . . .

“Where are we?” Gregory asked. The two of them seemed to be adrift in infinite light, hanging suspended among rainbow-huedclouds edged with silver and gold. Gregory couldn’t see a light source; the light seemed to be everywhere. Gravity was absent.The air was fresh, smelled of roses, and felt pleasantly cool on his naked skin. Obviously this was some sort of virtual reality,but he couldn’t tell where it was or why the two of them were here.

“Where are we?” he asked Julia. “I remember being in my Starblade, making a pass over the planetoid . . .”

“We’re in heaven, obviously.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. The Singularist Church of Humankind has its very own heaven, and this is it.”

Gregory looked out at the enfolding sweep of clouds and colored light. “Very pretty. But doesn’t the view get pretty boringafter the first million years or so?” He then remembered himself and looked into her eyes. “Except for the part with you, of course.”

She laughed. “You were pretty muddled for a while. How are you feeling? What do you remember?”

“Okay. I think I was in my fighter. Then I was . . . I don’t know, kind of warm and fuzzy. I opened my eyes and you were there.I didn’t . . . I didn’t question it. I just . . . I just . . .”

Her smile was radiant. “Yes, you certainly did.”

“But how—”

“Your brain, your mind, was wired into your ship and connected to the Godstream, okay? We don’t understand how all of this works, but the short story is that your mind slipped through into the Godstream.”

“I uploaded?”

“Pretty much. The same thing is happening all over. Hundreds of millions of people. You took some time to pull yourself together—kindof like being in a deep, deep dream state. I came in to help you . . . reconnect.”

“I’m glad you did. That was one hell of a way to reconnect!”

“I liked it.”

“This . . . this feels like a real body.”

“It should. It’s based on your brain’s understanding of your real body, and frankly, your brain can’t tell the difference,right?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a neuroscientist. But still, there’s more to how the body acts and responds than just the brain, right?Hormones and peptides and all the stuff going on in your blood . . .”

“Like I said, we don’t understand all of it yet. But apparently the human brain can do a pretty good job of extrapolating.”She reached down between his thighs and very gently squeezed. “Good enough that you knew what to do before you were fullyawake.”

Gregory frowned. “So . . . am I dead?” He had a sudden mental image of his fighter slamming into the surface of that alienasteroid.

Her expression changed, became . . . not sadder, exactly, but more pensive. “Your physical body is still alive, Don. It’sjust . . .”

“Just what?”

“You’re missing your legs.”

Gregory looked down at his bare legs, entwined with Julia’s. Her hand caressed his thigh, and he felt the touch with a shiveringthrill. “They feel okay.”

“Because your brain is creating the image, using the Godstream. The meditechs don’t know if they can grow new legs from what’s left . . . or download you into an artificial body. Or you could simply continue to exist here, like this.”

“Floating in the clouds?”

“You can be anywhere, Don, be anything . . .” She closed her eyes, there was a blur, a brief sensation of rapid motion, and they stood together on a grassy hillside overlookinga lake. A choir somewhere in the background toned unintelligible beauty. “All it takes is a thought.”

“Hello, there,” a new voice said.

Gregory turned and saw a brightly glowing figure approaching. It was certainly humanoid, but it was hard to make out detailsthrough the light. It didn’t appear to be walking so much as floating.

“Hello. Uh . . . what are you?”

He couldn’t see the being’s face, but he felt the smile. “Name’s Barry Wizewski,” the figure said. “Welcome to heaven! Oneversion of it, anyway.”

Wizewski, the glowing figure explained, was a retired Marine who’d once been a member of a Christian fundamentalist group,the Rapturist Church of Humankind. His particular sect, the Purists, had renounced all artificial means to enhance or extendhuman life. After all, with Christ about to return soon, He would want His people to be fully human when He