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if time had no meaning for him. But Cochrane was about to be pulled back into the governor’s reception. Who knew when he would have five minutes to himself again?
    “Micah, the superimpeller has no military function, if that’s what you’re worried about. It can’t even be used out here by Saturn without getting twisted up with the sun’s gravity well. On Earth, it can’t function for more than a nanosecond without self-destructing. Remember Kashishowa?” Brack’s expression hardened. “I know it has no military function—the little ‘accident’ at Kashishowa Station notwith-standing. I would never have funded your work if I had thought otherwise. But no matter what the editorialists say over the months ahead, the superimpeller has no peacefid function, either.
    It*s technology, Zefram. Neutral. It’s only what humans make of it.” At last Cochrane saw the question to be asked. “And what should we make of it?” “An insurance policy.” Cochrane didn’t understand.
    “War won’t end, Zefram. The superimpeller won’t do it. Matter replication or teleportation won’t do it. Nothing on the thousand drawing boards I fund ever will. But what the superimpeller wi/[ do is make sure the next war won’t cause humanity’s extinction.” “There won’t be a ‘next’ war. The New United Nations—” “Are a joke. There will always be a next war. And each next war brings crueler weapons. And the more cruel the weapons, then the more cruel the person who uses them.” Brack stepped closer to Cochrane. Someone was in the open door of the governor’s home, waving her arm as if calling Cochrane in. “We’re ten years from World War Three, Zefram. Twenty at most. The New United Nations is destined to collapse like its predecessors. And a third world war fought with twenty-first-century technology is going to be something from which Earth might never recover.
    Cochrane frowned as he finally understood what Brack meant.
    “But Centauri B II will be far enough away not to get involved.” within the decade.
    Centaurl B II and a half-dozen others Perhaps twenty within the same number of years.” Cochrane gave his friend a skeptical look. “Not even you can afford to spend twenty billion Eurodollars on twenty extrasolar colonies.” “You’re right. But I can get four or five started. And when my competitors see me doing it, they’re going to think I see profit in it, so they’re going to try and beat me at my own game. They’ll :’ form consortlures. Sell shares. Attach superimpellors to every probe sled and impulse freighter in the system to flood the nearby systems with a wave of exploration u u u and I intend to give them the patents to do it.” Cochrane nearly choked. “Give them the patents? After what you spent to develop them?” Brack patted Cochrane on the back. “You’ve made space travel quick, now leave it to me to make it inexpensive. Trust me, my friend, by the time I’m finished with giving your invention away, they’ll be naming planets after you. And by the time any of my competitors figure out I’m just throwing my money away on colonies, with no hope for any kind of reasonable return, it will be too late. A whole industry based on interstellar exploration will have emerged.” Brack’s eyes narrowed as his most serious tone returned. “An industry that will be able to survive the collapse of Earth.” “You re telling me all of human history is a race, aren’t your” Cochrane asked. “That we’ve always been running away from our own worst instincts, and that we always will be.” Brack gave Cochrane a look the physicist knew too well. A surprise was coming, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. “Zefram, Colonel Adrik Thorsen left Earth two hours ago. He’s coming here. To see you.” Cochrane felt a chill that had nothing to do with the chill air of Titan. Thorsen was one of Colonel Green’s cadre. He was rumored to have quelled a ration demonstration in Stockholm by