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“Spi
Spi
“What was that?”
“Your kid sister. Painter-of-Faces. She asked why we aren’t seeing relativistic distortion.”
Spi
“We aren’t all hardened space pilots like you, Spi
There was no relativistic distortion — no starbow, no red or blue shift because the nightfighter wasn’t moving through the Universe. The ’fighter was hopping from point to point like a tree frog, Spi
So, no blue shift.
But the nightfighter was falling out of the Galaxy at an effective velocity of millions of times lightspeed. It was the frequency of the jumps which gave Spi
It was working out, just as pla
“We’re making it, Louise,” Spi
“Yes… But — ”
Spi
“Well, it’s true, Spi
The Galaxy contained two main classes of stars, Louise told Spi
By contrast, Population II stars had formed in regions where hydrogen fuel was in scarce supply: in the old regions close to the core, or in the clusters outside the main disc. The II stars were more uniform in size, and — by the era of the earliest human astronomy — had already been old, characterized by jostling herds of red giants.
“Look at that disc,” Louise snapped. “I don’t suppose the damn birds had to do much to the dull, stable Population IIs; those things were half-dead already. But look — oh, look at the spiral arms…”
Spi
“Those blisters are supernova remnants,” Louise said bitterly. “Spi
Spi
…We’re already forty thousand light-years below the disc, Spi
Spi
“What?”
“…Tell me what’s coming next, Louise.”
“All right. Spi
Spi
“Right,” Louise said. “They are Population II stars. And one particular cluster, called Omega Centauri, was one of the brightest clusters visible from old Earth.”
Spi
“Right.”
“You mean — ”
“We’re heading right for it. Keep your eyes tight shut, Spi
Spi
Beyond the fragile cage, giant stars ballooned at her, dazzling her with their billowing silence.
24
Upright on their zero-gee scooters, Lieserl and Milpitas descended into the deep loading bay at the base of the Northern’s lifedome. Above Lieserl the maintenance bulkhead at the base of Deck Fifteen spread out, an improbable tangle of ducts, cables and tree roots.
From the corner of her eye, Lieserl watched Milpitas curiously. He looked down at the drop beneath his feet with undisguised dread. Milpitas had been a starship traveler for a thousand years, but he was so obviously a gravity-well dweller. He visibly suffered in this zero-gee environment, his instincts quite unadapted to the fact that even if his scooter failed completely he’d simply drift through the air, perfectly safely.
Beneath the thick layer of dank, empty air into which she was descending, the base of the Northern’s lifedome had been turned transparent. The base appeared to Lieserl as a pool of cool darkness — and there, pi
The Pla
She suppressed a grin. Me? “Uncomfortable? Not really.” She clicked her fingers and her scooter disappeared. She smiled at Milpitas, feeling mischievous. She did a back flip in the air, rolling twice; the clear floor beneath her wheeled across her vision.
She finished up falling alongside Milpitas once more. “I don’t feel uncomfortable,” she said. “Just — well, a little foolish. Sometimes I feel these Virtual masks Mark sets up for me are a little forced.”
Milpitas had turned away from her antics, his face pale; he gripped the handles of his scooter so hard his knuckles were white.
Hastily she called subvocally for the return of her Virtual scooter. “I’m sorry,” she said, sincerely. “I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”
She saw how the sweat glistened on the patchwork scars of his brow, but he determinedly held himself erect on his scooter. “Don’t apologize,” he said primly. “We’re here on an inspection tour… to consider the disposition of the ship, not my well-being.”
So, after that brief moment of human frailty, Milpitas was back in his shell. She turned away, vaguely disappointed.
They were approaching the base of the loading bay, now. Lieserl could see the twin small jets of her scooter reflected in the clear floor; like attracting stars, she converged with her own image — in fact it was an image of an image, she thought wryly; the processors which sustained her were doing a good job with their Virtual reality creation today.
Milpitas, with a tense flick of his bony, scarred wrist, levelled off and began to sail parallel to the surface. Lieserl followed, a few feet behind.
Beneath the dome base, the Xeelee nightfighter spread its construction-material wings, huge, dormant.
“Good morning, Spi
Spi