Chindi

“That I have an obligation to try. He says engines are big and they’re at the rear and how could I miss? Hutch—”

“—It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“Whatever. I have no plans to cut wires on this thing.”

“That’s prudent, Tor.”

“Any idea yet where I’m headed?”

“Yes, actually. If it goes where we think it will, it’ll be about a three-day flight. When it arrives, we’ll be right behind it and scoop you off.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m counting on you.”

Still, why was the chindi so far off course? Ninety-seven A.U.’s out from the sun. That was twice as far out as Pluto was. And then some.

“HUTCH, I HAVE calculated its jump point, assuming common Hazeltine architecture and adjusting for mass.”

“When?” she asked.

“Eight hours, seventeen minutes from now.”

“Okay, Bill. Thanks.”

“Do you wish to coordinate our own transition with theirs?”

She thought about it, and decided there was nothing to lose. “Yes. Sure. We want to get this over as quickly as we can.”

“Very good.”

“Keep us in cruise for now.” It would be accelerating away from them at a substantial rate but there was no help for that. They’d be okay as long as they could keep it within sensor range. She signaled Nick. “You have the co

“Me? What do I do if something happens?”

“Tell Bill to run.”

She went down to her quarters and began composing a message to the Academy reporting George’s death.

TOR SAT IN the dome and resisted calling the Memphis. He wanted very much to hear a human voice, but if he called over there, Hutch would answer up, and he wanted her to believe he was doing fine, didn’t need any help to get through this, wasn’t at all affected by the vast emptiness around him.

He left one lamp on. He’d tried sitting in the dark, anything to conserve energy, and decided he’d lose his mind if he couldn’t see. He was still trying to come to terms with the loss of George when the commlink sounded.

“How you doing?” Hutch’s voice, bright and optimistic. Almost. She wasn’t quite actress enough to carry it off.

“I’m good. Can’t beat the accommodations here.” Outside his windows the chamber was of course pitch black. Darker than he remembered. “I keep thinking about George.”

“Me too.” Her voice caught. She took a moment. “I hope he thought it was worth it.”

He couldn’t miss the bitterness. She was blaming him. But he let it go. “If he hadn’t come aboard, hadn’t made the effort, Hutch, he’d have spent the rest of his life regretting it.” He thought about what he wanted to say next, hesitated, and continued: “He died doing what he wanted to do. It’s probably as much as anybody can ask.”

“I hope,” she said. “But I’m getting to a point where too many people are dying doing what they want.”

“Hutch, I’m sorry. For him. For you. For all of us.”

“I know.” Her voice was softer.

“The only thing I’m not sorry about is that I came. I’m glad to have been here for all this.”

“Experience of a lifetime.”

“Yes. And it’s been good to see you again.”

“Thanks, Tor.”

She was having trouble keeping her voice steady. Priscilla Hutchins wasn’t such a tough babe after all. “I wish things could have turned out differently, though.”

“Me too,” she said. “I have to go. Got a few things to take care of.”

“Okay.”

“Once you make the jump, you should be in hyperspace a little less than three days. Assuming the same technology. You know all that.”

“Yes. I know.”

“It’ll be easier to get around, because you won’t have to deal with the acceleration. But once you get where you’re going, expect some maneuvering.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t be able to talk to you while you’re in the sack.”

“The sack?”

“In hyperspace.” She never missed a beat. “After you come out on the other side, it’ll probably take us a while to find you.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe a couple of days. Maybe even a little longer. Solar systems tend to be big.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anyplace.”

“You’re a sweetheart, Tor.” And she signed off.

You’re a sweetheart. It was the best he seemed able to get.

HE REFILLED HIS air tanks and went for a walk, leaning against the acceleration. He knew the routine on superluminals. They accelerated for forty minutes or so, then the second set of engines would come on. You could always tell them because they had a whiny sound that you could hear throughout the ship. This thing had been ru

He went down a passageway he hadn’t seen before, and he didn’t bother to give it a designation. He opened several empty chambers before finding himself in another hologram. He was on a strip of beach, with sunlight bright on the surf. But everything was frozen. Unlike the images he’d seen elsewhere on the ship, this was a still.

The usual observers’ chairs were there, six to a side. He lowered himself into one.

A vaguely humanoid creature was seated on the sand. It wore no clothing that he could see, but it held a book open in long bronze triple-jointed fingers. Its eyes were gold, and it appeared to be distracted by the volume. It had perhaps just begun to grasp something. Some salient point.

Mountains rose off to his left, and a large structure with towers and catwalks, the whole lined with flags. It looked like the sort of place you took the kids when you were in a resort. Well out, on the horizon, a ship of uncertain design was passing.

He had no idea what significance to draw from the scene. But he watched, glad to be in such peaceful surroundings. When he closed his eyes, he imagined he could hear the surf.

Chapter 28

“TOR?”

Hutch fed the signal into the console, waited for Bill to enhance.

“Sorry,” he said. “There’s not enough.”

She nodded and sank back into her chair.

“He can probably still hear you, though.”

“Tor,” she said, “we’re not receiving you anymore. The range has opened up too much.” The chindi moved smoothly across the overhead screen, a flattened asteroid with a long fiery jet at its rear. “You’ll be losing our signal, too, shortly, if you haven’t already. Just get through the next few days. We’ll be on the other side as quickly as we can.”

“That thing can really gallop,” said Bill. “It’s still pulling ahead of us.”

Even though it was hauling so much mass. “Any change in trajectory?”

“No. It is apparently headed for 97.”

RK335197 was a white class-F, about the dimensions of Procyon. No one had ever been there. It was known to have a planetary system with at least two gas giants, one roughly thirty times the mass of Jupiter. No pictures of either were on file. Seen from Gemini, it was an ordinary star, almost lost in those glittering skies.

“Hutch, the chindi is projecting a gravity field in front.”

“Maybe that explains how you get all that mass moving forward without burning unconscionable amounts of fuel.”

“Yes. It’s falling.”

“What’s the strength of the gravity field?”

“I would estimate it at.7 Earth standard.”

“It’s enough.” Experimenters at home had worked with similar technology. But it was a solution without a problem. Ordinary fusion engines had proved themselves quite capable of reaching jump mode.

Hutch remained on the bridge and watched the range between the two vessels widen. Alyx was sleeping off her painkillers, but Nick stayed with her, holding up both ends of the conversation with his customary reassuring tone. When you were with Nick, you always knew things would turn out okay.