And she knew she would follow John if he went.
There was a backward timeshift and then they were fucking in the flower-spangled waste out beyond the Mackenzie, on a solar blanket nestled in a hollow beneath the foothills of the glacier-carved mountains. Beth was on top, undulating her torso and carefully expelling and engulfing the hard thing that rode on John's hips. It was a position she never really liked, and here, without springs or liquid, it was even worse John resumed his insistent prodding, his face unreadable. She had assumed at the time that he was being moved by those irresistible forces that bring us to orgasm, but now she could see that he had simply been going through the motions of that which had so recently given him joy, watching her face and waiting for the groans that signaled success.
She was looking at him now/then, wondering what perverse universe would have them groveling like this, each trying to appease the hungry ego in the other, only to see that what was really happening was the ultimate Magianic Gift, a folding in upon itself of mechanical, altruistic ineptitude. Still, somehow, she had reached out and stroked his chest when it was over, when he had finished at last. She had been all right. Sore and . . . happy. How could she have been so blind? And what could she give to become blind again?
John experienced the growing emotions in Beth with a sense of relief. It was coming out finally, all that had beensubmerged for so long. The truth. And the truth would bring him, them, back from the void. Or was truth the void itself? Beth wondered.
Polariscame over the horizon, not yet braking from the transfer ellipse that had carried it from Aello. The dim white pinpoint sped ten degrees across the mystery of stars called Berenice's Hair and intruded upon the starkly bright dipper of the Great Bear. Slowly, it became a real thing: a tiny burst of light and it began to fall. Then, a few kilometers up, it began braking in earnest, spearing down as it grew until every detail could be made out. The silent, translucent flame quickly used up delta-v, modifying the ship's velocity so that it nearly matched that of the Ocypetan surface. About half a kilometer up, the flame died and the ship began to fall, as if through pitch. When it was only a few tens of meters up, the engine vented an invisible mist of cold hydrogen gas which swept the ice viciously. No flame would disturb the fragile solidity of the landing area. The ship slowed, stopped dead, and then drifted down, bouncing once in slow motion.
Sealock and Krzakwa strode into the central room of the CM, exhaustion lining their faces, and looked about at the inhabitants and their varieties of boredom. Cornwell, who also looked tired but resolute, stopped them with a peremptory gesture. Brendan stared down at him, eyes glittering, unreadable.
'All right,' said John. 'You've had your little gadabout. In the time you've been gone we've put the DR
software to good use, and I've come to some conclusions about myself and the nature of our effort here.'
'That's fine,' said Brendan. A few lines etched themselves at the corners of his mouth, evidence of a sudden tension in the muscles of his face.
'I want you to know that I am not going to be intimidated by your violence anymore.'
'John—' Tem began, but he was waved off by Sealock.
'Go on,' said Brendan.
'That's all I have to say,' said Cornwell.
'Anyone else?' asked Brendan. He glanced around the chamber. Demogorgon was coming out of his room. 'Brendan,' he said, 'we have to talk. Alone.' Sealock grinned, giving a little laugh that sounded more like a cough or small sneeze than anything else.
'Don't sweat it,' he said. 'We will . . . not right now, though.' He shook his head slowly, grin broadening and becoming softer. 'Tem, why don't you tell them what's going on?' Krzakwa shrugged, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, looking puzzled. 'I, uh . . .' He stopped, cleared his throat, and went on: 'This is going to be hard to accept. We found something on Aello ...'
Jana, too, had come out of her compartment and was staring at the two travelers, wondering just what it was that she sensed in their demeanor. 'What? What did you find?' He smiled faintly and spread his hands before her, palms up. 'Well ... It was a ... thing ... an artifact.' There was a moment of silence, a nonreaction that made Krzakwa wonder if they'd heard him, if his statement had somehow failed to penetrate their consciousness. Finally, from his position in the corner, Prynne said, 'Huh?'
'What do you mean?' asked Ariane. She hadn't moved and both her face and voice had remained bland, as if she were asking for the time of day.
'Artifact is an understatement, Ari. . . .' He looked at her and thought, Jesus. How the fuck am I going to put this? He tried to come up with a way and realized that, whatever he said, it was going to be outre .
. . . They were going to be talking about something not only outside of human experience but outside of expectability as well. 'Hell, why don't I just say it: we found a God damned enormous alien spaceship stuck inside the moon. . . .' He looked at their faces and saw the beginning of incredulity. 'I'm not kidding.... It was kilometers across, under the ice of Sayyarrin . . . .' If air could be called dumbstruck, it was this air, now. Jana stood up straight, rising a little into the air. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, then gagged and closed her eyes. She swayed in the air and drifted slowly to the floor.
Demogorgon went to where she had fallen and propped her torso up, saying, 'Jana . . . Hey! Jana?' Her eyes
