by Janet Morris
But Keebler thought South was talking to him.
"Somebody's lookin' for a speedin' ticket, or lookin' to outrun the guy tryin' to give 'im one. Betcha there's a pursuit ship back there, sonny. Better stay on your present course."
South said, "Rear scan for pursuit."
Birdy wasn't made to do that. He wasn't made to do that. But up flashed the rear scan with a fast-moving blip coming their way, on exactly the same heading as the one disappearing ahead.
"You're right, Keebler." South hunched forward and then sat back, saying, "They're going to a different spacedock than we are. We can get across to where we need to be before the pursuit ship crosses our path." He used his armchair handpad to key in some micro changes.
Then he asked Birdy for a closeup of Spacedock Seven.
And there it was, up ahead, centered in STARBIRD's large forward viewer on high magnification.
South stopped breathing. He just stared. All this time, the artifact had been a tiny blip with a set of coordinates beside it. He'd never expected it to be anything like . . . this.
Even in the viewscreen, it was weird. His eyes seemed to tickle when they fixed on it.
It was silver. Then it was gold. Then it was red, and pink, and at last it was lavender, and violet.
The colors raced across it and South wanted desperately to close his eyes. But what difference would that make?
The ball looked, from this distance, exactly like the planet he hadn't visited, but remembered as if he had. His X-3 flyby memories unfurled their wings and began flapping around his face, so that he actually brushed at his eyes with his hands.
Then the shifting colors stopped. The ball was silver, like a three-quarter moon seen from a Kansas field.
And he heard himself say in a choked voice, "Did you see the way that thing changed colors?"
"I didn't see nothing strange. Just m' ball, sonny. Just m' ball, lookin' like "it always does."
South couldn't believe that Keebler would deny something that obvious. Maybe he hadn't seen it. Craning his neck, South twisted in his seat to look at the old guy.
"Like I was tellin' y', sonny, there's lots o' things in the universe that we can't usually see, because we're stuck on the outside o' that sea sponge, livin' on a surface that's just plain outta sight of most o' creation. Iff en we were to keep on expanding until we was everywhere, we wouldn't be so damned sure about what we think we know, because we'd find out we don't know squat, the way we did when we first got outta the inner system and realized that complex gravity wells had skewed all our science 'cause we'd been livin' our whole evolution inside a special case."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Means that there," Keebler's sinewy chin jutted, "is a gen-u-ine alien artifact from a superior civ'lization, sonny. Gonna change ever'thin'. Gonna make me—an' you—rich 'n' famous. And y' know damn well I ain't lyin', don't y', Cap'n Explorer?"
"Go get stuffed. I don't want to see or hear a word from you until I've parked beside that thing." And South slapped his visor down.
Better than earmuffs. Better than nothing. For some reason, Joe South remembered a soapstone carving his father had gotten in Indochina—three seated monkeys, joined at the hips, one with hands over its eyes, another covering its ears, the third holding its hands to its mouth: See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.
Seemed like a real good piece of advice, just then. He was going to fly his ship, stay out of the way of cops chasing speeders, and generally watch where the hell he and Birdy were going.
If he hadn't promised Riva Lowe that he wouldn't let the scavenger out of the ship, he'd have let the old fool EVA and left him out there with the black box Sling was so sure wouldn't work.
That box better not work. The very thought of opening that ball was sending chills throughout South's body that neither his suit's climate-control system or his physiology kit could defeat.
For a reason he didn't understand, or didn't want to look at too closely, Joe South decided this was as good a time as any to test out Sling's torque-boost.
If Birdy and he had extra power, with all these other ships out here, maybe they should know about it. And pretty soon, he'd be in slow zones.
So while he had the chance, he might as well try it. The worst that could happen was a quick and clean death as STARBIRD came apart under the strain.
He and Birdy watched together, once he asked for the power, as STARBIRD passed her old redline and the indicator kept climbing.
When they were still alive and going twice as fast as he'd have figured X-99A could survive, Birdy and he fixed a new redline based on engine temperature and pressure. But he was only guessing.
He'd run out of space, not power.
Spacedock Seven's slow zone, and the artifact parked there, were directly ahead.
If, when this mission was over, Joe South still couldn't get comfortable with Threshold society, Sling had made a suicide option into a real option.
Now, if he wanted, he and Birdy could decide that it was Earth or bust, or break for parts unknown, and give anybody chasing them a run for their money.
STARBIRD was one hell of a machine, in anybody's spacetime, thanks to Sling. If Keebler hadn't been around, South would have been crowing out loud and dancing around, congratulating every part of the ship he could reach.
But Keebler was around, and Birdy was running a damage assessment program, just to be sure that STARBIRD was as good as she felt.
If any little thing at all was wrong, maybe another trip to see Sling would fix it. But nothing Birdy could test was reading as if it were damaged. South hadn't really been worried about that—not at this point. When you bought it in an x-craft, it was always quick, and fiery, and unequivocal.
What he was worried about was that ball of Keebler's. They were headed right toward it and he was going to have to park beside it and sit there while Keebler did what Keebler wanted to do, no matter how weird that ball made Joe South feel.
It's a bitch to walk into one of your dreams with your eyes open and have to pretend that you're not worried. At least when you're asleep, you can look forward to waking up.
CHAPTER 24
Escape Vector
Dini Forat was worried about the female Brow. The Brow was running around the freighter's cabin crazily, throwing things.
Rick had sent her back to comfort it, but it couldn't be comforted.
As a matter of fact, her presence seemed to make things worse.
She thought calm, happy thoughts at it. But it just jumped around more. Why wouldn't it listen to her?
"Come on. Come here." She knelt down and held out her hand.
The Brow humped up its back and hissed at her. The other two, who'd been curled up together in a corner, both got to their feet.
The one that had hissed started walking toward her sideways, its back arched, its tail lashing.
For the first time ever when with a Brow, Dini was afraid. She'd closed the door when she'd come in here, because the agitated Brow had been throwing things around the cabin.
Trying to appear confident, she got up and backed toward the door.
The female Brow kept coming toward her, hissing as it came.
The two Brows in back were now slinking up behind the female, their bellies low to the deck and their snouts extended. Their noses seemed longer and more squared off. She could see their nostrils quivering.
She backed away and nearly stumbled over an overturned water bowl. The female Brow jumped into the air and landed only a foot in front of her.
Then it sat up on its hind legs and seemed to reach toward her with its little black hands.
She was afraid to take it. There were claws at the ends of those fingers. She'd never been afraid of those claws before.
"Rick," she called, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't hear her with the door closed unless she manually engaged the intercom by the door.
So she added, "I'm going to see Rick," in what she hoped was a soothi
ng tone. "He'll know what's wrong with all of you. Is it that you don't like space travel? I don't really like it either, but it's safe. My father says it's safe." She closed her mouth and chewed on her lip.
Her father would never speak to her again. But at least he wouldn't have her killed.
She looked down at the female Brow, still on its hind legs with its arms upstretched like a baby.
Dini could almost hear it saying, Pick me up.
It was a wonderful creature. If it was frightened, that was her fault. It was feeling her fright. Rick would be furious if he knew she was so afraid that the Brows were upset. She was furious with herself.
"I'm sorry," she said, as she reached down, very slowly, to pick up the Brow. "It's me, isn't it? You're upset because I'm upset. Well, we mustn't be," she crooned softly now to the animal as she lifted it in her arms. "No, we mustn't be."
It scrambled so desperately for her shoulder that its hind claws raked her chest. She was sure she was bleeding, but there was no time to check.
The Brow was on her shoulder. Its tail was wrapped around her throat so tightly that she grabbed the tail with one hand.
Then she walked carefully to the door, not looking back, saying, "You two stay here and I'm going to take her up front with me so that she'll calm down. ..."
When she opened the door, the other two Brows streaked by her and out.
"Oh, no!" She stepped into the corridor, the one Brow still on her shoulder. "Rick! They got out! They're loose."
She thought she heard him call her from the flight deck. That was where the Brows must have gone.
They must have gone there, because there wasn't any other place they could have gone: every other bulkhead was shut tight.
She balanced the Brow carefully as she went forward. As she ducked her head to get through into the little control room, the Brow sprang from her shoulder into her empty chair.
Rick had called this craft a "dual-place with single pilot capability." But since that pilot could be an AI pilot and didn't have to be her husband, she'd never given it a second thought.
Now Rick had two Brows in his lap and they were jumping around frantically, onto the control panels, and off again.
"Dini, help get them off me! What are you doing, letting them loose like this? Did they get at those Leetles?"
Dini reached down and grabbed for one of the Brows clambering over Rick.
She caught it and it nearly bit her. It actually opened its jaws and then it stopped. Its intelligent, dark eyes blinked, and it reached for her like a baby.
"Oh, sweetie ..." She picked up the second Brow and cuddled it. "It's just frightened."
It was a good thing that her mocket was safe in their bunkroom. She had one Brow in her arms and was trying to convince the one on her acceleration couch to let her sit there when Rick finally convinced the third Brow to climb off his lap and up on his headrest.
"Uh-oh," said Rick.
"What?" She'd just reclaimed her seat. She had a lap full of Brow and both arms full of Brow. "What's uh-oh?"
"Oh, they punched some buttons, some presets, that's all. We're a little off course. It's nothing," said Rick, still trying to maneuver himself free of the Brow who, perched above his head on the seatback, was pulling at his hair.
"Ow! Dini, we can't have them up here. We've got to take them back, now. And we've got to figure out what's wrong with them. ..."
"But you said they punched some buttons!"
"The AI will take care of it. Come on, let's get them back where they belong."
"Easier said than done," she warned. "They know what we're talking about."
Her Brows didn't want to go anywhere. The one on her lap was standing on its hind legs, as if it wanted to look out of the forward viewscreen. Its tiny hands were digging into the bumper. Except for the ringed, lashing tail, which was so bushy at the moment, it looked like a person in a fur suit.
The one in her arms was trying to burrow into her armpit. It was making pathetic little noises.
"Come on, Dini! I can't have them up here!" Rick was standing, now, holding his squirming Brow with both hands.
"Well, fine," she said. "You take that one back, then come up here again and we'll each take one of these. We can't get the three of them back there if they don't want to go, and you know it!"
What she said was true, but she was surprised at her own vehemence. The Brows didn't want to go. They wanted to stay. She could feel it, and she could feel their distress. She'd never realized that the Brows could broadcast their feelings so strongly.
She couldn't bring herself to grab them by the scruffs of their necks, the way Rick had his, and drag them off to that windowless prison when, up here, they had company and they could see what was going on.
She knew the Brows wanted to stay with her. She just knew they felt better now. They wanted to look out the window. ...
"They just want to look out the window, Rick. ..."
"Dini! Damn you, all right!"
Rick stamped away with his Brow under his arm. She could hear it mewling in a soft, almost human voice.
Her male Brow was still standing on his hind legs, looking out the windscreen at the stars. Then he scrambled up on the console and the female Brow took her head out of Dini's armpit for just a moment and peered up into her eyes.
The ship seemed to veer slightly.
When Dini looked up again, the male Brow was climbing carefully down into her lap again.
When he got there, he circled around and she stroked his fur. It came out in clumps. It stuck to her hand. She sneezed and rubbed her eyes.
And when she looked up again, the male Brow was once more trying to stand on his hind legs and look where they were going.
But now the view wasn't of a starscape, but of a spacedock. Or at least she thought it was a spacedock.
She almost called Rick, but she remembered the AI pilot. It would know what to do.
By the spacedock was a big metal ball with multicolored lights running across it.
The standing Brow, seeing the spectacle, started to purr. The female Brow pulled her head out of Dini's armpit long enough to make a noise, which the male answered.
"Ssh," Dini told the female Brow, who was shivering. "It's all right. It's all right. We won't let anything happen to you. Just because he's brave enough to look out the window doesn't mean you have to look. ..."
Then Dini herself looked up, past the male Brow, and saw something she didn't understand.
The ball was growing at an alarming rate, and changing colors too rapidly for the effect to be simply reflections from their approaching ship.
And between them and the ball, space itself was growing agitated.
Dini had never seen such a thing before. Space was always clear. This was like a dust devil. Then it was like a tornado, a video she'd once seen of what it would be like if you looked down its funnel.
The tornado was between them and the spacedock. She couldn't see the dock at all anymore. She couldn't see the colored ball. She could only see the spinning strangeness in front of her.
She screamed, "Rick! Rick!"
The male Brow, frightened by what it saw or her scream, jumped off her legs onto the floor and started growling. In her arms, the female Brow answered and it was suddenly scrabbling to get free of her.
"All right! Go! I'm not holding you!"
She put up both hands and then someone grabbed them.
She nearly died of fright.
"Oh! Rick, you scared me. It was so strange."
"What? I had a bitch of a time getting that Brow to let me go. We've got to—"
He glanced at the windscreen, which was black and opaque. "Good. You turned that viewscreen off. Let's get these two into the back—"
"I didn't."
"You didn't what?"
"Turn it off. The wind—viewscreen. I didn't know you could. ..."
"You didn't turn it off? Then the AI did. That's fine." He was reaching for one Brow. It did
n't fight or hiss. It came tractably into his arms. "Whatever was wrong, it's over now," he said. He held the Brow out to Dini: "See? Calm as can be."
She reached down and the female Brow took her finger in its hand. "Come on." She patted her lap. "Come on. Up!"
The Brow jumped into her lap. It still was covered with loose hair. She lifted it and got out of her seat to follow Rick aft.
"Now, Dini, when I open this door, let's just put them in quickly, in case the whole thing starts up again," said her beloved as they stood before the Brows' cabin.
"All right," said Dini, "but I don't see why this one has to go in there. She's so scared. When the ball started changing colors and then the whole starfield spun like that, she just shivered."
"Starscape? Spun? Ball? What are you talking about?" Rick, still holding one Brow, froze with the door open.
The Brow jumped out of his arms. Hers wiggled, and she let it go in the doorway. "Go on, go in there."
Rick grabbed her roughly. "What did you say?"
"Close the door or they'll get out again."
"To hell with them. . . . Never mind." And Rick nearly ran up the corridor, forgetting to lock the Brows inside.
Dini's feelings were hurt, and the female Brow was sitting in the door's track. "Fine. Run about if you must," she said, and went forward, leaving the Brows free to come and go as they pleased.
When she got to the flight deck, Rick was sitting in his padded chair with an arm crooked over his eyes. The chair was canted back and he didn't acknowledge her, although he surely had heard her come up—at least felt her leg brush his arm as she took her place.
So she didn't say anything either. Let him be that way. What did she care? She had given up everything for him, and now he was treating her as if she were some sort of inferior person.
She settled back, prepared for a long silence.
Almost immediately, he said from under his arm, "Do you know what that spinning you saw was?"
"No. I said I didn't."
"That was a spongehole."
"A what?"
"A spongehole. Either the Brows touched off an emergency punch-out sequence, or there was some kind of disturbance in the continuum. Whatever, we're in it and we're lost in it, out of communication, until we come out of it. Wherever that will be."