Neptune Crossing
Page 36
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He dreamed of balls, EineySteiney balls. He dreamed of balls colliding and rebounding, tracing strange and impossible trajectories around a vast pool table, spinning past gravity wells and sliding, floating, never quite coming to rest. He felt that there was some strange and wonderful order in the way that they moved, some chaotic pattern that was not order as he knew it, but another kind of order . . .
He dreamed of planets and planetary bodies spinning in strange and impossible trajectories, in a chaotic dance of the spheres that only the most perceptive could fathom . . .
He dreamed of fire, consuming fire, the fire of a thousand suns . . .
Chapter 18
Just the Facts
HE WOKE GRADUALLY, with fantastic imagery passing before his eyes: moving fractals and spinning chaotic attractors. He knew what the images were, though he didn’t understand them. Some of them looked like exotic alien landscapes, and some like exploding crystals; he knew that they were neither, but rather mathematical representations. After a while, the images changed to color impressions that held no meaning for him whatever. He sensed that these were something from the quarx’s personal experience.
/// Are you awake? ///
the quarx asked tentatively.
He blinked his eyes open. For a moment, the images hung like transparent holograms in front of him; then they faded, and he was left with his own vision. /Yah—I’m awake./
/// Are you still . . . mad? ///
He sighed, remembering last night. /Yeah. I dunno. Are you making a peace offering?/
/// I guess . . . you could say that. ///
He thought of Julie.
/// I really am sorry, you know. ///
/Sorry enough to stay out of my way the next time I meet up with Julie?/
/// I’ll try. Very hard.
I’m not sure . . . I can promise to succeed. ///
/Mmm./ Bandicut decided that that was probably the best he could hope for. He sat up, banging his head on the bunk overhead. “OW! Damn it!”
/// Would you like me to stop you
when I see you getting ready to do that? ///
/I would appreciate that very much./ Bandicut sighed, thinking that as long as he and the quarx were together, then he was going to have to make the best of it.
Charlie cleared his throat.
/// About the mission . . . ///
/Yes? Are we going to get moving on that?/
/// Well, we still need to get
back to the translator,
to find out exactly what we have to do.
And the sooner the better. ///
Bandicut grunted. /I can’t control that./
/// I know. I don’t think any of us
anticipated the difficulty we would have in returning.
But until we do,
we can’t pinpoint the danger
that we have to stop. ///
Bandicut rubbed his eyebrows wearily. /So maybe it’s time we told somebody about the danger. Then they could look for it, and take care of it, and we could quit worrying./
/// I’m afraid that’s not a viable option.
The social turbulence factors are too great,
the time is too short.
And I know Charlie-One
didn’t trust your superiors. ///
/Yeah, well . . ./ Bandicut couldn’t argue with that. /Did he tell you all this in that little meeting we had?/
/// A lot of it.
And he helped me put together some pieces
that I already had.
But the important question is,
do you believe that we can’t go public—
at least not yet? ///
Bandicut pulled the privacy-curtain open and slid out of his bunk. His ankle ached fiercely. /All right—yes—you win./
/// You’re still mad, aren’t you? ///
the quarx asked softly.
/Yeah./ He stumped toward the lav. The dorm was deserted. He realized that he had slept past the start of the workday, and then he realized that it didn’t matter, because he was on the injured list. /I’ll get over it. So what do you suggest, if we can’t tell anyone?/
/// If you have nothing else to do . . . ///
/You already know I don’t./
/// Then may we do some library research? ///
/In the datanet?/ Bandicut blanched, thinking of the havoc the quarx had wreaked last night.
/// If it’s up, yes.
But I promise—no more meddling. ///
/All right. After we eat./ Bandicut dressed quickly. /But if you’re lying about meddling . . ./
/// Hm? ///
/I’m gonna cut your balls off./
/// Uh . . . okay . . . ///