shrinking under its own weight until density reached tons per cubic
centimeter and spin was measured in seconds. Feebler and feebler did it
shine, white dwarf, black dwarf, neutron star–
Compressed down near the ultimate that nature’s law permitted, the atoms
(if they could still be called that) went into their final transitions.
Photons spurted forth, were pumped through the weirdly distorted
space-time within and around the core, at last won freedom to flee at
light speed. Strangely regular were those bursts, though slowly their
frequencies, amplitudes, and rate declined back toward extinction–dying
gasps.
Pulsar breath.
Djana stared as if hypnotized into the forward screen. Tiny but waxing
among the stars went that red blink … blink … blink. She did not
recall having ever seen a sight more lonely. The cabin’s warmth and glow
made blacker the emptiness outside; engine throb and ventilator murmur
deepened the eternal silence of those infinite spaces.
She laid a hand on Flandry’s arm. “Nicky–”
“Quiet.” His eyes never left the board before him; his fingers walked
back and forth across computer keys.
“Nicky, we can die any minute, and you’ve said hardly a word to me.”
“Stop bothering me or we will for sure die.”
She retreated into her chair. Be strong, be strong.
He had bound her in place for most of the hours during which the boat
flew. She didn’t resent that; he couldn’t trust her, and he must clean
himself and snatch some sleep. Afterward he brought sandwiches to his
captives–she might have slipped a drug into his–and released her. But
at once he was nailed to instrument and calculations. He showed no sign
of feeling the wishes she thrust at him; his will to liberty overrode
them.
Now he crouched above the pilot panel. He’d not been able to cut his
hair; the mane denied shaven countenance, prim coverall,
machine-controlling hands, and declared him a male animal who hunted.
And was hunted. Four Merseian ships bayed on his heels. He’d told her
about them before he went to rest, estimating they would close the gap
in 25 light-years. From Siekh to the pulsar was 17.
Blink … blink … blink … once in 1.3275 second.
Numbers emerged on a plate set into the console. Flandry nodded. He took
the robotic helm. Stars wheeled with his shift of course.
In time he said, maybe to himself: “Yes. They’re decelerating. They
don’t dare come in this fast.”
“What?” Djana whispered.
“The pursuit. They spot us aiming nearly straight on for that
lighthouse. Get too close–easy to do at hyper-speed–and the gravity
gradient will pluck you apart. Why share the risk we have to take? If we
don’t make it, Ydwyr will’ve been more expendable than a whole ship and
crew. If we do survive, they can catch us later.”
And match phase, and lay alongside, and force a way in to rescue Ydwyr
… and her … but Nicky, Nicky they would haul off to burn his brain
out.
Should it matter? I’ll be sorry, we both will be sorry for you, but
Merseia–”
He turned his head. His grin and gray eyes broke across her like
morning. “That’s what they think,” he said.
I only care because you’re a man, the one man in all this wasteland, and
do I care for any man? Only my body does, my sinful body. She struggled
to raise Ydwyr’s face.
Flandry leaned over and cupped her chin in his right hand. “I’m sorry
to’ve been rude,” he smiled. “Sorrier to play games with your life. I
should have insisted you stay on Talwin. When you wanted to come, with
everything else on my mind I sort of assumed you’d decided you preferred
freedom.”
“I was free,” she said frantically. “I followed my master.”
“Odd juxtaposition, that.” A buzzer sounded. ” ‘Scuse, I got work. We go
primary in half a shake. I’ve programmed the autopilot, but in
conditions this tricky I want to ride herd on it.”
“Primary?” Dismay washed through her. “They’ll catch you right away!”
That’s good. Isn’t it?
The engine note changed. Star images vanished till the screens
readapted. At true speed, limited by light’s, the boat plunged on. Power
chanted abaft the cabin; she was changing her kinetic velocity at