of his overriding obligation to carry the warning home. He'd have to conn the ship all by himself, leaving Dorcas behind for the kzinti. The thought was strangling. Tears stung. That was a relief, in the nullity everywhere around. Something he could feel, and taste the salt of on his lips. Was the tomb blackness thickening? No, couldn't be. How long had he lain buried? He brought his timepiece to his faceplate, but the hell-stuff blocked off luminosity. The blood in his ears hammered against a wall of stillness. Had a whine begun to modulate the rasping of his breath? Was he going crazy? Sensory deprivation did bring on illusions, weirdness’s, but he wouldn't have expected it this soon.
He made himself remember — sunlight, stars, Dorcas, a sail above blue water, fellowship among men, Dorcas, the tang of a cold beer, Dorcas, their plans for children — they'd banked gametes against the day they'd be ready for domesticity but maybe a little too old and battered in the DNA for direct begetting to be advisable—
Contact ripped him out of his dreams. He reached wildly and felt his gloves close on a solid object. They slid along it, along humanlike lineaments, a spacesuit, no, couldn't be! Laurinda slithered across him till she brought faceplate to faceplate. Through the black he recognized the voice that conduction carried: “Robert, thank God, I'd begun to be afraid I'd never find you, are you all right?”
“What the, the devil are you doing here?” he gasped.
Laughter crackled. “Fetching you. Yes, mutiny. Court-martial me later.” Soberness followed: “I have a cable around my waist, with the end free for you. Feel around till you find it. There's a lump at the end, a knot I made beforehand and covered with solder so the buckyballs can't get in and make it work loose. You can use that to make a hitch that will hold for yourself, can't you? Then I'll need your help. I have two geologist's hammers with me. Secured them by cords so they can't be lost. Wrapped tape around the handles in thick bands, to give a grip in spite of no friction. Used the pick ends to chip notches in the rock, and hauled myself along. But I'm exhausted now, and it's an uphill pull, even though gravity is weak. Take the hammers. Drag me along behind you. You have the strength.”
“The strength — oh, my God, you talk about my strength?” he cried.
The cable was actually heavy — gauge wire from the electrical parts locker, lengths of it spliced together till they reached. The far end was fastened around a great boulder beyond the treacherous part of the slope. Slipperiness had helped as well as hindered the ascent, but when he reached safety, Saxtorph allowed himself to collapse for a short spell. He returned to Laurinda's earnest tones: “I can't tell you how sorry I am. I should have guessed. But it didn't occur to me — such quantities gathered together like this — I simply thought 'nebular dust,' without stopping to estimate what substance would become dominant over many billions of years—”
He sat straight to look at her. In the level red light, her face was palely rosy, her eyes afire. “Why, how could you have foreseen, lass?” he answered. “I'd hate to tell you how often something in space has taken me by surprise, and that was in familiar parts. You did realize what the problem was, and figured out a solution. We needn't worry about your breaking orders. If you'd failed, you'd have been insubordinate; but you succeeded, so by definition you showed initiative.”
“Thank you.” Eagerness blazed. “And listen, I've had another idea—”
He lifted a palm. “Whoa! Look, in a couple of minutes we'd better hike back to Shep, you take your station again, I get a drive unit and fly across to Rover. But first will you please, please tell me what the mess was that I got myself into?”
“Buckyballs,” she said. “Or, formally, Buckminster fullerene. I didn't think the pitful of it that you'd slid down into could be very deep or the bottom very large. Its walls would surely slope inward. It's really just a… pothole, though surely the formation process was different, possibly it's a small astroblem—” She giggled. “My, the academic in me is really taking over, isn't it? Well, essentially, the material is frictionless. It will puddle in any hole, no matter how tiny, and it has just enough cohesion that a number of such puddles close together will form a film over the entire surface. But that film is only a few molecules thick, and you can't walk on it or anything. In this slight gravity, though — and the metal poor rock is friable — I could strike the sharp end of a hammerhead in with a single blow to act as a kind of… piton, is that the word?”
“Okay. Splendid. Dorcas had better look to her standing as the most formidable woman in known space. Now tell me what the— the hell buckyballs are.”
“They're produced in the vicinity of supernovae. Carbon atoms link together and form a faceted spherical molecule around a single metal atom. Sixty carbons around one lanthanum is common, galactically speaking, but there are other forms, too. And with the molecule closed in on itself the way it is, it acts in the aggregate like a fluid. In fact, it's virtually a perfect lubricant, and if we didn't have things easier to use you'd see synthetic buckyballs on sale everywhere.” A vision rose in those ruby eyes. “It's thought they may have a basic role in the origin of life on planets—”
“Damn near did the opposite number today,” Saxtorph said. “But you saved my ass, and the rest of me as well. I don't suppose I can ever repay you.”
She got to her knees before him and seized his hands. “You can, Robert. You can fetch me back my man.”
Ponderously, Rover closed velocities with the iron asteroid. She couldn't quite match, because it was under boost, but thus far the acceleration was low.
Ominously aglow, the molten mass dwarfed the spacecraft that toiled meters ahead of it; yet Sun Defter, harnessed by her own forcefield, was a plowhorse dragging it bit by bit from its former path; and the dwarf sun was at work, and Secunda's gravity was beginning to have a real effect…
Arrived a little before the ship, the boat drifted at some distance, a needle in a haystack of stars. Laurinda was still aboard. The tug had no place to receive Shep, nor had the girl the skill to cross safely by herself in a spacesuit even though relative speeds were small. The autopilot kept her accompanying the others.
In Rovers command center, Saxtorph asked the image of Dorcas, more shakily than he had expected to, “How are you? How's everything?” She was haggard with weariness, but triumph rang: “Kam's got our gear packed to transfer over to you, and I– I've worked the bugs out of the program. Compatibility with kzin hardware was a stumbling block, but — well, it's been operating smoothly for the past several hours, and I've no reason to doubt it will continue doing what it's supposed to.”
He whistled. “Hey, quite a feat, lady! I really didn't think it would be possible, at least in the time available, when I put you up to trying it. What're you going to do next — square the circle, invent the perpetual motion machine, reform the tax laws, or what?”
Her voice grew steely. “I was motivated.” She regarded his face in her own screen. “How are you? Laurinda said something about your running into danger on the moon. Were you hurt?”
“Only in my pride. She can tell you all about it later. Right now we're in a hurry.” Saxtorph became intent. “Listen, there's been a change of plan. You and Kam both flit over to Shep. But don't you bring her in; lay her alongside. Kam can help Laurinda aboard Rover before he moves your stuff. I'd like you to join me in a job around Shep. Simple thing and shouldn't take but a couple hours, given the two of us working together. Though I'll bet even money you'll have a useful suggestion or three. Then you can line out for deep space.”
She sat a moment silent, her expression bleakened, before she said, “You're taking the boat to Prima while the rest of us ferry Rover away.”
“You catch on quick, sweetheart.”
“To rescue Juan and Carita.”
“What else? Laurinda's hatched a scheme I think could do the trick. Naturally, we'll agree in advance where you'll wait, and Shep will come join you there. If we don't dawdle, the odds are pretty good that the kzinti won't locate you first and force you to go hyperspatial.”
“What about them locating you?”
“Why should they expect anybody to go to Prima? They'll buzz around Secunda like angry hornets. They may well be engaged for a while in evacuating survivors from the warship; I suspect the shuttles aren't terribly efficient at that sort of thing. Afterward they'll have to work out a search doctrine, when Rover can have skitted in any old direction. And sometime along about then, they should have their minds taken off us. The kzinti will notice a nice big surprise bound their way, about which it is then too late to do anything whatsoever.”
“But you— How plausible is this idea of yours?”
“Plausible enough. Look, don't sit like that. Get cracking. I'll explain when we meet.”
“I can take Shep. I'm as good a pilot as you are.”
