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Picking up the phone, Forester punched for Facilities Engineering. As he waited for an answer, he glanced once more at the impassive, deformed face in Twenty-Seven's monitor. The old stomach-churning feeling returned... but now, more than ever, he knew he would be staying with the Project. The ante had been raised, both for his conscience and for the Spoonbenders themselves. He had no illusions as to his power to change things, but if he never was able to do anything else for them but keep them alive, he would be satisfied. Other men had lived out their lives without accomplishing more.
The phone in his hand came to life. Putting his thoughts aside, Forester began giving orders.
—
I lie quietly, doing my work as best I can, enjoying the contentment that it brings me. I am happy with my work, and will not neglect it again. But it does not take all of my attention, and I can still reach out and learn about other things. This is good, for I would not be happy if I could no longer learn.
The persons in the large space ("control room") seem to be happy again, too, and this also brings me contentment. I do not understand why holding this particular needle in place pleases them, but it seems to do so and that is what is important. There is yet so much I do not understand.
But I will learn.
The Price of Survival
"That's it, Shipmaster," Pliij said from his helmboard with obvious relief. "Target star dead ahead; relative motion and atmospheric density established, and vector computed. Final course change in nine aarns."
Final course change. There were times in the long voyage, Shipmaster Orofan reflected, that he had thought he would never live to hear those words, that he would be called prematurely to sit among the ancestors and another would guide his beloved Dawnsent to her final resting place. But he knew now that he would live to see the new world that the Farseers back home had found for them. "Very good, Pilot," he responded formally to Pliij's a
"Almost there, Orofan," Pliij said, gazing out the forward viewport. "Almost there."
"Yes, my friend." Orofan touched the viewport gently with one of his two long tentacles, feeling the vibration of the fusion drive and a slight tingle from the huge magnetic scoop spread hundreds of pha ahead of them. Nothing was visible; the viewport was left uncovered only for tradition's sake. "Do you suppose the sleepers will believe us when we tell them we carried them hundreds of star-paths without seeing any stars?"
Pliij chuckled, his short tentacles rippling with the gesture. "The rainbow effect through the side viewports is nice, but I'm looking forward to seeing the sky go back to normal."
"Yes." Orofan gazed into the emptiness for a moment, then shook himself. Back to business. "So. The course change is programmed. Are the scoop and condensers prepared?"
"All set. Thistas is ru
"Good." Nine aarns to go. Six of those would make for a good rest. "I'll be in my quarters. Call me if I'm not back here two aarns before insertion."
"Right. Sleep well."
"I certainly will." Orofan smiled and left the bridge.
—
It was, General Sanford Carey thought, probably the first time in history that representatives from the Executor's office, the Solar Assembly, the Chiron Institute, and the Peacekeepers had ever met together on less than a week's notice. Even the Urgent-One order he'd called them with shouldn't have generated such a fast response, and he wondered privately how many of them had their own sources at the Peacekeeper field where the tachship had landed not three hours ago.
Across the room a Security lieutenant closed the door and activated the conference room's spy-seal. He nodded, and Carey stepped to the lectern to face his small audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here this afternoon," he said in a smooth, melodious voice—a voice, he'd been told, which contrasted violently with his craggy appearance. "Approximately three hours ago we learned that there is a large unidentified object rapidly approaching the solar system."
Only a third of the nine men and women present kept tine impassive—if tense—expressions that betrayed prior knowledge. The rest displayed a kaleidoscope of shock, wonderment, and uneasiness as Carey's words sank in.
He continued before the murmurings had quite died down. "The object is traveling a hair below lightspeed, at about point nine nine nine cee, using an extremely hot fusion drive of some kind and what seems to be an electromagnetic ramscoop arrangement. He's about eight light-days out—under fourteen hundred A.U.—and while we haven't got his exact course down yet, he'll definitely pass through the System."
" 'Through,' General?" asked Evelyn Woodcock, chief assistant to the Executor. "It's not going to stop here?"
"No, his drive's still pointing backwards," Carey told her. "Decelerating to a stop now would take hundreds of gees."
From their expressions it was clear they weren't sure whether to be relieved or insulted by the Intruder's disinterest. "Then why is it coming here?" Assembly-Prime Wu-sin asked.
"Reco
"Unlikely," Dr. Louis Du Bellay of the Chiron Institute murmured. "I would guess they've done this before."
"Agreed, Doctor," Carey nodded. "It's a very remote possibility. Well. The Intruder, then, is not likely to be of great danger to us, provided we keep local traffic out of his way. By the same token, he's not likely to advance our store of knowledge significantly, either. With one exception: we now know we're not alone in the universe. You'll appreciate, I'm sure, the importance of not springing this revelation on the System and colonies without some careful thought on the part of all of us. Thank you for coming here; we'll keep you informed."
Carey stepped from the lectern and headed toward the door as his audience came alive with a buzz of intense conversation. As Carey passed him, Dr. Du Bellay rose and fell into step. "Would you mind if I tagged along with you back to the Situation Room, General?" he asked. "I'd like to keep close tabs on this event."
Carey nodded. "I rather expected you'd want to. I've already had you cleared for entry." He raised his hand warningly as the Security man reached for the spy-seal control. "No talking about this, Doctor, until we're past the i
It was only a short walk to the central section of Peacekeeper Headquarters, and the two men filled the time by discussing Du Bellay's latest trip to the ancient ruins at Van Maanen's Star. "I heard about that," Carey said. "I understand it was your first solo tachship run."
"Yes. The Directorate at Chiron's been encouraging everyone to learn to fly—it's cheaper than always having to hire a pilot along with a tachship. Fortunately, they haven't yet suggested I do all my own digging as well."
Carey chuckled. "That's what students are for. Are those ruins really as extensive as people say?"
"Even more so. We've barely scratched the surface, and there's at least one more civilization under the one we're working on."
They passed the security shield to the clickings of invisible security systems, and the topic abruptly changed. "How in blazes did a tachship stumble across something moving that fast?" Du Bellay asked.