Probability Space by Nancy Kress Page B

would hear her, maybe even recognize her despite the short black hair … She must have been in all the news holo, like Daddy was. Someone would see …
    The “car” was a closed nuclear-energy transport that waited in the ship’s sealed cargo bay.
    “No,” Amanda said. “I’m not getting in it.”
    “Then we—I—will drug you,” Father Emil said.
    Then why hadn’t they done that already? Carried her still asleep from her bunk to the car … If they were going to kill her, they’d have done it already. So they weren’t going to kill her. It must be all right. Father Emil wouldn’t kill her. He’d stopped Salah from doing that!
    Father Emil wouldn’t kill her. But after he’d given her to these “leaders,” they might. And Father Emil would never know, not for sure. That would be his excuse to himself.
    “They’re going to kill me!” she cried. “To ‘solve the problem!’ After you leave me there with them!”
    “Nonsense, Amanda. They wouldn’t do that.”
    “You and Lucy and Captain Lewis wouldn’t. But Salah would, and what if the leaders are more like him than like you?” “She must just disappear … the life of one child does not outweigh the lives of the thousands…”
    “Nonsense,” Father Emil repeated, and didn’t meet her eyes, and it was all very, very wrong.
    She bolted, running toward a pile of strapped-in crates at the far end of the cargo bay. He caught her easily. She struggled, but even though Father Emil looked sick he was strong , and within a minute, straps bound her. She threw herself on the ground and kicked at him, and he fought to get straps around her ankles, too. His face was gray and purple veins stood out around his nose.
    “No, no, help!” she screamed, but there was no one inside the cargo bay. He got her into the lead-shielded car.
    “Vehicle, go. Cargo bay doors, open,” he gasped.
    Prerouted programming. Open comlinks with the outside. Amanda started screaming. Maybe the comlinks were two-way and somebody, anybody, would hear her on the other end.
    No one responded. The car glided forward. Amanda screamed until she was hoarse.
    She lay on the floor, Father Emil facing her on a small metal seat. His lips moved continuously in prayer. She jerked violently to try to kick him, and he leaned forward as if to move her. He slipped a piece of paper into her coverall pocket. His eyes said, Don’t say anything, don’t say anything, don’t say anything .
    She stopped screaming, panted hard, and watched him. He went on soundlessly praying.
    She felt the car stop and guessed they were at one of Lowell City’s airlocks. Usually all passengers’ identities were checked at this point—wouldn’t someone come to open the car?” Amanda wasn’t even sure whether she still had her “Jane Verghese” passport. Surely someone would check the car …
    No one did. Life Now must have found a way to cheat. The car started again and rolled on. That at least told Amanda something: Cars were only permitted in one of Lowell City’s three great domes, the one filled with factories and warehouses. East Sector. That’s where she must be.
    Every few seconds Father Emil glanced at his watch. Finally he said, “Vehicle, stop. Override programming. Password ‘Ghandi.’” The car stopped. “Vehicle, open door.” It did.
    In one swift moment he had freed her from the straps. “Amanda, run! Go with God, child—” He pushed her out the door.
    She didn’t completely have her legs back yet. She stumbled, fell. Father Emil watched her from the vehicle, which had erupted into sound from the comlink: “— traitor , afraid you couldn’t be trusted—” They had been monitored.
    She was in a temporarily deserted street between two windowless buildings. No street on Mars was ever deserted for long. Amanda staggered to her feet and tried to run, but her legs would only lurch forward in an uneven gait that made her afraid of falling. Father Emil stepped out of the car,