Sheen, Jame the barman, Decker… He knew that Pallis and Sheen had decided to live out their remaining shifts together; now, eyes fixed on that distant blur, Rees sent out a silent prayer that they — and all the others who had sacrificed so much to get him this far — were safe and well.
Rees and Gord lifted Nead bodily through the open Port. His legs swinging as if carved from wood, the injured Scientist shoved himself off in the direction of a jet mounting. Rees and Gord waited in the open doorway, the securing rope in their hands.
Nead slowed a few feet short of the jet mount. Rees watched anxiously as Nead scrabbled at the frictionless surface of the hull. Then the mount came within reach and he grabbed at it gratefully, locking his fingers around small irregularities in the iron surface.
He hauled on his ropes. Gord and Rees bundled the first steam jet out of the port and shoved it toward the young Scientist. They judged it well, the package of machinery stopping a few feet short of Nead. With fast but precise motions Nead dragged at his rope and fielded the machine. Now the Scientist had to align the jet, at least roughly, with the Bridge's axis, and he spent long seconds struggling with the old device's bulk.
At last it was correct. From a chest pocket Nead dragged out adhesive pads and slapped them against the mount; then, the strain showing on his face, he hauled the machine into place over the pads. Finally he untied the rope from the secured jet and cast it free.
Nead had worked fast and well, but already some thirty seconds had passed. The bulk of the work had still to be performed, and the pain in Rees's chest was reaching a hollow crescendo.
Now Nead scrambled toward the next mount, over the curve of the hull and out of sight. After unbearably long seconds there was a tugging on one rope. Rees and the mine engineer threw the second steam jet through the hatch. The bulky machine bumped around the hull.
It was impossible to gauge the passage of time. Had only seconds passed since they had launched the machine?
Without reference points time was an elastic thing… Blackness closed around Rees's vision.
There was a flurry of motion to his right. He turned, his chest burning. Gord had begun to haul on the rope, his face blue now and his eyes protruding. Rees joined him. The rope moved disturbingly easily, sliding unimpeded over the frictionless surface.
A sense of dread blossomed alongside Rees's pain.
The end of the rope came rushing around the curve of the hull. The line had been neatly cut.
Gord fell back, eyes closing, the effort he had expended apparently pushing him over the brink into unconsciousness. Rees, his vision failing, placed his palm over the door's control panel.
And waited.
Gord slumped against the door frame. Rees's lungs were a jelly of pain, and his throat tore at the empty air…
A blur before him, hands gripping the rim of the door frame, a face contorted around blue lips, a stiff body with strapped legs… Nead, he realized dully; Nead had returned, and there was something he had to do.
His arm, as if independent of his will, spasmed against the port's control panel. The port slid shut. Then the inner door opened and he was pulled backwards into the thickening air.
Later Nead explained, his voice a rasp: 'I could feel I was running out of time, and I still wasn't finished. So I cut the rope and kept going. I'm sorry.'
'You're a bloody fool,' Rees whispered. He struggled for a while to raise his head from his pallet; then he gave up, slumped back, and drifted back to sleep.
With Nead's jets they guided the ship into a wide, elliptical orbit around a hot yellow star deeper inside the new nebula. The great doors were hurled open and men crawled around the hull attaching climbing ropes and fixing fresh steam jets. Thin, bright air suffused the musty interior of the ship; the stink of recycled and tanked air was dispelled at last and a mood of celebration spread among the passengers.
Even the ration queues seemed good-humored.
The bodies of those who had not survived the crossing were lifted from the ship, wrapped in rags and dropped into the air. Rees glanced around the knot of mourners gathered at the port. He observed suddenly what a mix of people they were now: there were Raft folk like Jaen and Grye, alongside Gord and other miners; and there was Quid and his party of Boneys. They all mingled quite unselfconsciously, united by grief and pride. The old divisions meant nothing, Rees realized; in this new place there were only humans…
Eventually the Bridge would move on from this star but these bodies would remain here in orbit for many shifts, marking man's arrival in the new world, before air friction finally carried them into the flames of the star.
Despite the influx of fresh air Hollerbach continued to weaken steadily. At length he took to a pallet fixed before the Bridge's window-like hull. Rees joined the old Scientist; together they gazed out into the new starlight.
Hollerbach fell into a fit of coughing. Rees rested his hand on the old man's head, and at last Hol-lerbach's breathing steadied. 'I told you you should have left me behind,' he wheezed.
Rees ignored that and leant forward. 'You should have seen the release of the young trees,' he said. 'We just opened the cages and out they flew… They've spread out around this star as if they were born here.'
'Perhaps they were,' Hollerbach observed drily. 'Pallis would have liked that.'
'I don't think any of us younger folk realized how green leaves could be. And the trees seem to be growing already. Soon we'll have a forest big enough to harvest, and we'll be able to move out: find whales, perhaps, fresh sources of food…'
Now Hollerbach began to fumble beneath his pallet; with Rees's help he retrieved a small package wrapped in grubby cloth.
'What's this?'
'Take it.'
Rees unwrapped the cloth to expose a finely tooled machine the size of his cupped hands; at its heart a silver orb gleamed, and around the orb multicolored beads followed wire circles. 'Your orrery,' Rees said.
'I brought it in my personal effects.'
Rees fingered the familiar gadget. Embarrassed, he said: 'Do you want me to have it when you're gone?'
'No, damn it!' Hollerbach coughed indignantly. 'Rees, your streak of sentimentality disturbs me. No, I wish now I'd left the bloody thing behind. Lad, I want you to destroy it. When you throw me out of that door send it after me.'
Rees was shocked. 'But why? It's the only orrery in the universe… literally irreplaceable.'
'It means nothing!' The old eyes glittered. 'Rees, the thing is a symbol of a lost past, a past we must disregard. We have clung to such tokens for far too long. Now we are creatures of this universe.'
With sudden intensity the old man grabbed Rees's sleeve and seemed to be trying to pull himself upright. Rees, frowning, laid a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back. 'Try to rest—'
'Bugger that,' Hollerbach rasped. 'I haven't time to waste on resting… You have to tell them—'
'What?'
'To spread. Fan out through this nebula. We've got to fill every niche we can find here; we can't rely on relics of an alien past any more. If we're to prosper we must become natives of this place, find ways to live here, using our own ingenuity and resources…' Another coughing jag broke up his words. 'I want that population explosion we spoke of. We can't ever again risk the future of the race in a single ship, or even a single nebula. We have to fill this damn cloud, and go on to the other nebulae and fill them as well. I want not just thousands but millions of humans in this damn place, talking and squabbling and learning.
'And ships… we'll need new ships. I see trade between the inhabited nebulae, as if they were the legendary cities of old Earth. I see us finding a way even to visit the realms of the gravitic creatures…
'And I see us one day building a ship that will fly us back through Holder's Ring, the gateway to man's home universe. We'll return and tell our cousins there what became of us…' At last Hollerbach's energy was exhausted; the gray head slumped back against its rag pillow, eyes closing slowly.
When it was over Rees carried him to the port, the orrery wrapped in the stilled fingers. Silently he launched the body into the crisp air and watched it drift away until it was lost against the background of the falling stars; then, as Hollerbach had wished, he hurled the orrery into the sky. Within seconds it had vanished.
