The immensity of isolation stifled him, filling the black-and-brilliant desolation like sand, dragging at him, holding him back … as the isolation of his own making had cut him off from the truth all his life. He closed with her spiraling form slowly, agonizingly, centimeters every second … seeing in his mind a ruptured suit, a frozen corpse, her pale, staring face cursing him even in death for the hypocrisy of his wasted years. Yet wanting, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life, to close that gap between them, and see instead that it was not too late.…
And after a space as long as his life his gloved hand clamped over an ankle. He drew her toward him and used his guidance unit to stop their outward fall. He caught her helmet in his hands, felt her clutch him feebly as he searched behind the silent, red-fogged glass for a glimpse of her face. Repeating, wild with relief, “Betha … Betha … Betha, are you all right?”
Her shadowed face fell forward, peering out; her chin pressed the speaker bouton. “Eric … oh, Eric.” He heard her sob. “Don't let me go … I'll fall … don't let go, don't let go …” Her arms tightened convulsively, silence formed between them again. He stroked the tempered glass. “I won't … it's all right … I won't let you go.” The plane of the Discan rings blinded him with frigid glory, as immutable as death; he turned away from it, started them back toward the diminished ship, across the black sand desert of the night. She kept radio silence; he did not search for her face again behind the blood-reddened glass, granting her the privacy of her grief, feeling the ghosts of five human beings move with them. And at last he heard her voice say his own name, thanking him, and say it again.…
“What happened?”
“Is she all right?”
“Betha, are you all right?”
The voices of Shadow Jack and Bird Alyn clamored in his helmet as they met him, their hidden faces turned toward Betha, gloved hands reaching out.
“She's hurt. Help me get her inside.” She scarcely moved against his hold, silent as they made their way through the airlock.
They entered the control room, her hands still locked rigidly on his suit. He looked across the room at the panel, looking for Welkin; cleared his faceplate, suddenly aware that nothing moved. “Welkin?” He saw a hand, motionless above the chair arm, and his throat closed.
Betha raised her head as if she were listening, but he could not answer. She released her grip, pushing away from him. “Pappy?” Her voice quavered, she folded into a tight crescent in the air, her arms wrapped against her stomach. “Pappy … are you there?” He heard a small gasp as she tried to lift her hands. “Somebody … get this helmet off. I can't see. Pappy?”
“Betha—” Shadow Jack began, broke off.
Bird Alyn moved to release Betha's helmet, lifted it slowly, jerked back at the sight of her face filmed with blood.
But Betha had already turned away, shaking her head to clear her confusion, pulling distractedly at her gloves. She froze as she saw the old man's drifting hand. “Oh, Jesus.” Her own hand flew out, caught at Bird Alyn's suit, groping for purchase. Bird Alyn put an arm around her, helped her cross the room. Wadie followed.
“Pappy …” Her voice broke apart as she reached him.
Welkin opened his eyes as she touched his face, stared her into focus uncomprehendingly, his right hand pressing his chest. She laughed, or sobbed, squeezing his shoulder. “Thank God! Thank God … I thought … you're so cold …”
“Betha. Are you—?”
“I'm all right. I'm fine.” She put a trembling hand up to her face, glanced at her bloody fingertips. “Just a … nosebleed. What—what happened?”
“Pain … in my chest, like being crushed; down my arm … must be my heart. Was afraid to move. When I saw … what happened to you on the screen—”
“Don't. Don't think about it … it's over. We'll make it. Pappy. We'll make it yet. Close your eyes, don't move, don't worry, just rest. We'll take care of you.” She managed a smile, new blood blurring on her chin, her hand gently cupping his face.
“Should we get him to the infirmary?” Wadie hesitated near her shoulder, forcing himself to speak.
“No.” Welkin shook his head, eyes shut. “Not yet. Finish the job!”
“He's right. We shouldn't move him yet, anyway. Thank God we're in zero gee.…” Betha pulled a scarf out of a cubby under the panel, starting a small blizzard of papers drifting. She wiped her face and spat gingerly, wincing. Wadie saw her control slip again, saw pain show, and her body bend as she pushed out of Welkin's sight. Bird Alyn moved back to her side, mouth open; she frowned, straightening, shook her head. “All right. Pappy said it. We're going to finish the job. Nothing will stop us now! I'll start the winch. Bird Alyn, get back outside … and make sure the load is secured. Shadow Jack, you'll chart us a course for Lansing. Tell me what you need to know, I'll double- check you.… Abdhiamal—”
He met her eyes, bracing against what he expected to see. “Keep the hell out of your way?”
Expressionless, she said, “Go to the infirmary and get me a hypo of painkiller for Clewell. They're prefilled, with the first-aid supplies.” She caught hold of a chair back, shook her head. “Make it two hypos. And then”—her eyes changed, clung to him—“keep the hell out of my way, Abdhiamal!”
Grusinka-Maru (in transit, Demarchy to Discus)
+2.75 megaseconds
“… how you intend to explain what your man's done now, MacWong? He must've shown the Outsiders how to get that hydrogen. Now he's made certain we can't catch the starship before it leaves the system.” Esrom Tiriki moved incautiously in the overcrowded space of the ship's control room.
“He isn't ‘my man’ anymore, Demarch Tiriki. He was declared a traitor,” Lije MacWong repeated wearily. He
“But you said he would.”
“It was a reasonable assumption.” MacWong felt unaccustomed tension tightening the muscles in his neck —brought on by the discomfort of the ship's acceleration, and by the effect discomfort was having on everyone else, as well. He silently regretted the ill fortune that had made Tiriki Distillates a part owner of this fusion ship, and permitted Esrom Tiriki to be here as its representative. Tiriki—and his company—had suffered considerable embarrassment when their personal plans for the starship had been exposed; even Tiriki's two fellow representatives had begun to let their disapproval show as their tempers shortened. MacWong further regretted that Tiriki did not have the self-control to suffer in silence.
The Nchibe representative drew Tiriki's unwelcome attention again and MacWong drifted away past a yawning, fawning mediaman in Nchibe livery. They had picked up the Ringers' reply to the starship's threats, and it had been sent on to the Demarchy—as all crucial information was, and would be, during their pursuit. The people, the changeable god to whom he had offered up Wadie Abdhiamal and other sacrificial scapegoats, kept watch over him even here. But now for once the people kept their silence, because any response would have reached the starship too, and revealed their pursuit. For possibly the only time in his career he had a measure of freedom in his decision-making; he was not sure yet how much he could afford to enjoy it.
Because the next decision he would make now—and answer for later—was whether to continue pursuing the starship or to return to the Demarchy. And the decision was not as obvious as it seemed.… The starship had taken a thousand tons of hydrogen—far more than it needed to escape from the system, from what Osuna had told him. Enough fuel to critically cripple its speed and maneuverability. Had they done that for revenge, too? Somehow he doubted it. They had destroyed a ship before; this time they could have destroyed so much more … they could have destroyed the major distillery. But they hadn't. He experienced a curious mingling of fascination and relief.
But the starship had gone to Lansing when it first entered the system; there had been a Lansinger with the woman at Mecca. If its crew had made some sort of deal with Lansing, that could explain a lot of things. And it would mean that the starship would not be heading directly out of the system; that there was still a chance for
