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The faces crossing his field of vision seemed unconcerned with Danion's condition. They were exuberant. There was laughter. Little jokes flew.

"We've won!" motherly Clara told him. "Stars' End killed them."

Not all, Moyshe thought, though he said nothing. One or two had made hyper in time.

The Seiners had just moved up the Sangaree vendetta list, perhaps surpassing Jupp von Drachau.

"But we lost four harvestships," the younger half of his tech team told him. "Four harvestships." He was having a hard time believing that.

It was a victory day, all right, but one which left the Seiners little to celebrate.

Blessed darkness enfolded Moyshe. He fell into the blissful sleep of the needle, a sleep untroubled by fearful dreams.

Eighteen: 3049 AD

Operation Dragon, the Change

He ignored the shoulder-shaking as long as he could. Finally, sleep-slurred, he muttered, "Wha'd'ya wan'?"

"Get up, Moyshe. Time to go to work. There's a million things to do."

So. Amy, he thought. Altogether too businesslike for a girl who thought she should be a wife. He opened an eye, checked the time.

"Five hours? What the hell kind of rest is that?" he grumbled. "How the hell did I get here? I was in Contact."

"It's been eleven hours. The clock's unplugged. To save power. They brought you down on a stretcher. I thought you'd been mind-burned... " She threw herself on top of him, clinging with desperation. "Moyshe, I was so scared... "

"All right. All right. I survived," he grumbled. He still was not accustomed to the Seiner habit of showing emotion.

She reached under the sheet, tickled him. "Come on, Grump. There're things to do."

He threw his arms around her and rolled her over, his mouth seeking hers.

"Moyshe!"

He smothered her protest with a kiss. "It's been a week, lady."

"I know. But... "

"But me no buts, woman. The hump-backed crocodiles of entropy are gnawing at the underbellies of our allotted spans. I'm not going to waste an opportunity on tinkering with a piece of pipe."

"Moyshe! What kind of talk is that?"

"Shut up."

"Yes, Boss."

They dressed hurriedly afterward. Amy decided on a fresh coverall.

"Now, what's the hurry?" Moyshe demanded.

"You've got to get back to work. Moyshe... We really are desperate this time. We're in a decaying orbit around Stars' End. The mindsails went in the spillover from whatever killed the Sangaree. We'll hit the boundary in two days unless we get the drives working."

"Boundary?"

"Limit of approach. Stars' End starts shooting if a ship passes it."

"I wondered why we're alive."

"Only the Sangaree violated it. The machine is very literal. Anyway. We're due on shift in three hours, and Jarl needs you to take some tests first."

"Can't they wait?"

"He said today."

"Might as well. I'm awake now. Where's Mouse?"

"Hospital block. He's doing okay."

Hospital block was fifteen kilometers away. Maybe more if there were detours. Moyshe knew he had to move fast. "We'll go there first."

"Why?"

"To see Mouse."

"But the tests!"

"Damn the tests. I want to see Mouse. You coming?"

"Not anymore. Hey! Wait!"



They ran to a scooter, laughingly fought for the controls. Moyshe made a point of wi

He whipped down the passageway, scattering cursing pedestrians. The wind in his face exhilarated him—till he remembered what had happened. Memories of what he had done kept him quiet till he reached the hospital block.

Bluff and bluster got him past nurses who believed they were ru

They wandered the ward where Mouse was supposed to be confined, unable to find him.

Feminine laughter suddenly rippled through the passageway. "What do you think?" Moyshe asked.

"Wouldn't bet against it," Amy replied. Her good cheer had not faded.

Moyshe followed the laughter to a small private room where he found Mouse making friends with his nurse. BenRabi began to wonder why he had come. It did not look as if Mouse needed him. Then he understood. He had not come for any good, businesslike reason. He just wanted to see how Mouse was. And that was silly. Landsmen did not behave that way.

Mouse was fine, needless to say.

"What're you doing in here?" Moyshe asked, embarrassed because he was interrupting. "There's work to do."

Mouse gri

"Hello to my friend Moyshe."

"Isn't she something? Been trying to find out if those long lean legs are as fine as they promise to be. Those work outfits just don't do a thing for a woman."

"How are you, Mouse?" benRabi asked.

"Like the man said before they closed the coffin, as well as can be expected under the circumstances." He whipped his top sheet back. His arm and shoulder were heavily bandaged and in a partial cast. "They'll have me back on light duty in a couple of days. Unless I can blow in that dainty ear there and get somebody to keep me here."

Vickie giggled.

"Well, good. I just wanted to check. Sorry I interrupted. Behave."

"Don't I always?" Mouse chuckled. "Hey, Moyshe, go by my cabin and make sure nobody's run off with the silverware."

"All right."

"See you in a couple days."

"Yeah." BenRabi withdrew, Amy on his heels. "Damn!" he told her. "I feel silly."

"What? Why?"

He shook his head. He could not explain. Not to her. A Seiner would never understand what he meant when he said he and Mouse had passed a point of no return and become genuine friends. Amy did not have the background to comprehend what that could mean to a landsman.

She was worried. "Thinking about what Jarl is going to say when we show up late?" he asked.

"Uhm." She remained thoughtful as they stalked the sterile white corridors.

"What're the tests for?"

"I don't know. Just some tests."

He caught a whiff of untruth. He was not supposed to learn their purpose. He always hated that kind of test, though people were always taking them back home: IQ, emotional stability, prejudicial index, social responsiveness, survival index, environmental response, flexibility, adaptability, the government's euphemistically labeled Random Sample Report...

Bureau agents suffered bombardment with them during briefing and debriefing. They even had a test to test one's resistance to testing. His was strong. He did not like having people look inside him. He did too damned much of that himself.

"Wouldn't be the famous Warner test, would it?"

She did not respond. He tried a couple of different tacks, could not get a rise out of her, so gave up.

They had to make a detour returning to the scooter. Their pla

"It's bad, Moyshe," Amy said looking down that long hallway of stretchers. "They've been bringing people in since the shooting stopped. They may never get them all out of the wrecks. They're falling in toward Stars' End too."

"Where are they going to put them? We'll end up having to sleep standing up."

"We'll find something."

"Reminds me of my senior year midshipman cruise," he said. "There were war scares that summer too. The Shadowline War and the Sangaree. And somebody had found a McGraw world. The fleet was tied up. Academy contracted our shipboard astrogation training to private carriers."

Memories. That had been the summer he had ended it with Alyce...

"Tell me about it."

"Eh? Why?"

"Because I don't know anything about you. You never talk about yourself. I want to know who you are."

"Well, I got the worst billet on the list. Some people didn't like me. It was a raggedy-ass Freehauler on the Rim Run from Tregorgarth to The Big Rock Candy Mountain to Blackworld, then Carson's, Sierra, and The Broken Wings. Broomstick all the way, with crazy passengers. The Freehaulers carry some real weirdos. Between The Broken Wings and Carson's, coming back, we got jumped by McGraws. My first taste of action."