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The Downer wine was opened, nullstopped and passed hand to hand in celebration. Music poured from Lindy’s comsystem. There was food in the freezer, water in the tanks, and a start to the fortunes of the Murray-Gaineses, a respectable number of credits logged on the orehauler Ajax, from what they had delivered and a share of what others had brought in with their beeper tags. They were bathed, shaved and fresh-scented from a docking and sleepover on Ajax. Even Lindyherself had a mint-new antiseptic tang to her air from the purging she had gotten during the hours of her stay.
“None of them,” Jillan said, drifting free, “none of them believed we could have come in filled that fast. No savvy at all, these so-named miners.”
“Baths,” Paul Gaines murmured, and took the wine in both hands for his turn, smug bliss on his square face when he had drunk. “We’re civilized again.”
“Drink to that,” Rafe agreed. “Here’s to the next load. How long’s it going to take us?”
“Under two months,” Jillan proposed. “Thirty tags and a full sling.”
“We can do it.” Rafe was extravagant. He felt a surge of warmth, thinking on an Ajaxwoman who had opened her cabin to him in his onship time. He was feeling at ease with everything and everyone. He gave a quirk of a smile at Jillan and Paul, whose privacy was one of the storage pods when they were down on supplies, but they were full stocked now, with solid credit to their account, stock bought in Endeavor itself. “Someday,” he said, “when we’re very old we can tell this to our kids and they won’t believe it.”
“Drink to someday,” Paul said, hugging Jillan with one arm, the bottle in the other. The motion started a drift and spin. Rafe snagged the bottle from Paul’s hand as they passed, laughing at them as the hug became a tumble, the two of them lost in each other and not needing that bottle in the least.
I love them,Rafe thought with an unaccustomed pang, with tears in his eyes he had no shame for. His sister and his best friend. His whole life was neatly knitted up together; and maybe next year they could build old Lindya little larger. Jillan could look to family-getting then, lie up on Ajaxfor the first baby; be with them thereafter—close quarters, but merchanter youngsters learned touch and not-touch, scramble and take-hold before they were steady on their feet.
And even for himself—for his own comfort—Endeavor was a haven for the orphaned, the displaced of the War, people like themselves, taking a last-ditch chance. There might be some woman someday, somehow, willing to take the kind of risk they posed.
Someone rare, like Paul.
“Drink up,” Jillan insisted, drifting down with Paul. The embrace opened ... a little frown had crossed Jillan’s face at the sight of his; and Paul’s expression mirrored the same concern. For that, for a thousand, thousand things, he loved them.
He gri
10/9/55
Trishanamarandu-keptawas in pursuit of delicate reckonings, had chased plottings round and round and busily gathered data in observation of the region. <> might have missed the ship entirely otherwise.
<> detected it in the Between, a meeting of which the ship might or might not be aware. It was small and slow, a bare ripple of presence.
It too was a consequence of that ancient stardeath ... or came here because of it. Weak as it seemed, it might well use mass like that which <> had recently visited as an anchor, a navigation fix when the distance between stars was too great for it. <> diverted <>’s self from <>’s previous heading and followed the ship, eager and intent, coming downat another such pockmark in the continuum, where <>’s small quarry had surfaced and paused.
(!), <> sent at once, in pulses along the whole range of <>’s transmitters. (!!!) (!!!!!)It was an ancient pattern, useful where there was no possibility of linguistic similarity and no reasonable guarantee of a similar range of perceptions. <> waited for response on any wavelength.
Waited.
Waited.
Even delays in response were informational. This might be recovery time, for senses severely disorganized by jumpspace. Some species were particularly affected by the experience. It might be slow consideration of the pulse message. The length of time to decide on reply, the ma
The small ship remained some time at residual velocity, though headed toward the hazard of the dark mass by which it steered. Presumably it was aware of the danger of its course.
<> remained wary, having seen many variations on such meetings, some proceeding to sudden attack; some to approach; some to headlong flight; some even to suicide, which might be what was in progress as a result of that unchecked velocity.
Or possibly, remotely, the ship had suffered some malfunction. <> retained corresponding velocity and kept the same interval, confident in <>’s own agility and wondering whether the ship under observation could still escape.
<> observed, which was <>’s only present interest.
The little ship suddenly flicked out again into jump. <> followed, ignoring the babble from the passengers, which had been building and now broke into chaos.
Quiet,<> wished them all, afire with the passion of a new interest in existence.
The pursuit came downagain as <> had hoped, at a star teeming with activity on a broad range of wavelengths.
Life.
A whole spacefaring civilization.
It was like rain after ages-long drought; repletion after famine. <> stretched, enlivened capacities dormant for centuries, power like a great silent shout going through <>’s body.
Withdraw,some of the passengers wished <>. You’ll get us all killed.
There was humor in that. <> laughed. <> could, after <>’s fashion.
Attack,others raved, that being their natures.
Hush,<> said. Just watch.
We trusted you,<^> mourned.
<> ignored all the voices and stayed on course.
1/12/56
The intruder and its quarry went u
Ships closer to that arrival point picked up the situation and started relaying the signal as they moved in panic.
Three hours after arrival, Central longscan picked up a blip just above the ecliptic and beeped, routinely calling a human operator’s attention to that seldom active screen, which might register an arrival once or twice a month.
But not headed into central system plane, where no incoming ship belonged, vectored at jumpship velocities toward the precise area of the belt that was worked by Endeavor miners. Comp plotted a colored fan of possible courses, and someone swore, with feeling.
A second beep an instant later froze the several techs in their seats; and “Lord!”a scan tech breathed, because that second blip was closeto the first one.
“Check your pickup,” the supervisor said, walking near that station in the general murmur of dismay.
That had nearly been collision out there three lightbound hours ago. The odds against two unscheduled merchanters coinciding in Endeavor’s vast untrafficked space, illegally in system plane, were out of all reason.
“Tandem jump?” the tech wondered, pushing buttons to reset. Tandem jumping was a military maneuver. It required hairbreadth accuracy. No merchanter risked it as routine.
“Pirate,” a second tech surmised, which they were all thinking by now. There were still war troubles left, from the bad days. “Mazia