More illumination flickered through the cloud.
She felt chilled. Wished Digger were there.
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, apparently sensing her disquiet, but not understanding the reason. “We’re going to be fine.” His eyes were hard, and a smile played at the corners of his lips. He’s enjoying this.
“I need you to sit down and belt in, David,” she said. “Maneuver coming up.”
He tapped the viewport as if, yes, everything was indeed under control, and resumed his seat.
She didn’t like being so close to the damned thing. She could very nearly have reached out the airlock and stuck an arm into one of the jets.
“Range approaching 250,” said Bill.
“Match velocity.”
The retros fired. The same technology that provided artificial gravity served to damp the effects of maneuvering. But they still existed, and for about twenty seconds her body pushed against the forward restraints. Then the pressure eased.
“Done,” said Bill.
The problem for Kellie was to find adequate operating space away from the plumes. He waited with studied patience while she did so.
“Bill,” she said, “begin relaying data to Jenkins.” Just in case. Bill confirmed, and she turned to Collingdale. “Dave, we are ready to launch the shuttle.”
THE LCYC PROJECTORS were industrial units with a variety of uses, ranging from entertainment to environmental and architectural planning. They were configured, when used in tandem, to create a larger, more clearly defined image than either could have done alone.
The shuttle left the ship and moved out to a range of seven hundred kilometers, where it assumed a parallel course with the Hawksbill.
“In position,” said Bill.
“Bill,” she said, “take direction from David.”
“Confirmed.”
“Bill,” said David, “start the program.”
The AI, looking about twenty-two, dashing and handsome, appeared near the viewport. He looked out and smiled. “ Program is initiated,” he said.
Midway between the Hawksbill and the shuttle, a giant hedgehog blinked into existence. It looked real. It looked like a piece of intricately carved rock. Gray hard spines rose out of it, and it turned slowly on its axis.
Beautiful.
“How big is it?” Kellie asked.
“Five hundred thirty kilometers diameter.”
“A little bit bigger than the original.”
“Oh, yes. We wanted to be sure the bastard didn’t miss it.”
It glittered in the sunlight, gray and cold. She’d never seen a hologram anywhere close to these dimensions before.
Collingdale smiled at the cloud. “Okay, you son of a bitch,” he said. “Come get it.”
More lightning off to port. They’d wandered too close to a jet. It was a flood, a gusher of mist and dust, streaming past. “At the rate the cloud’s coming apart,” she said, “maybe there won’t be anything left by the time it gets to Lookout.”
“Don’t count on it,” said Collingdale.
Another bolt rippled past. A big one. They both ducked. So did Bill. His image vanished.
Maybe they were drawing the dragon’s attention. “I think we should get started,” she said.
Collingdale nodded. “Yes. I was just savoring the moment.”
Right. She was glad somebody was enjoying it.
“Bill,” Collingdale said, “let’s go left three degrees.”
Bill complied. The Hawksbill, the shuttle, and the virtual hedgehog all turned to port. Images of the cloud played across four screens.
The bridge fell silent, save for the muffled chatter of electronics. Collingdale sat quietly, watching the monitors, calm, almost serene.
Off to starboard, the hedgehog sparkled in sunlight. From somewhere, lightning flickered, touched the image, passed through it.
“It’ll probably take a while,” said Collingdale, “for it to react. To start to turn away.”
She’d become aware of her heartbeat. “Probably.”
The shuttle was an RY2, lots of curves, no sharply drawn lines, nothing to attract the lightning. Only the oversize Hawksbill needed to worry about that. Target of the day. Maybe they should have ridden in the shuttle. Suddenly it struck her that they should have thought things out better. Of course they should be in the shuttle.
Collingdale’s gray eyes drifted toward the overhead.
Digger would have thought of it in a minute. Never ride in the target vehicle, he’d have said.
“Bill?” said Collingdale.
“Nothing yet.”
“Maybe we need to wiggle a little bit,” he said. “Do something to get its attention.”
“Maybe.” Why don’t you lean out the airlock and wave? “Bill,” she said, “down angle three degrees.”
“Complying,” said Bill.
The face of the cloud was torn by fissures and ridges. One dark slice ran jagged like a gaping wound across the length of the thing. Gradually, the cloud was retreating from the center of the screens as the Hawksbill continued to pull away from it.
THEY WAITED SIX hours. The Hawksbill and its shuttle and the virtual hedgehog drew steadily away from the cloud, which continued on course for Lookout. Collingdale’s mood had darkened. He sat smoldering in his seat. When he spoke at all, it was to the omega, calling its attention to the hedgehog. “Don’t you see it, you dumb son of a bitch?”
“Hey, you’re going the wrong way.”
“We’re here. Over here.”
For the most part, though, he watched in stricken silence. Finally, he literally threw himself out of the chair, a dangerous move in the low gravity of a superluminal. “Hell with this,” he said. He brought the AI up onscreen. “Bill, go to the next one.”
The hedgehog vanished. A city appeared in its place. It was on the same order of magnitude.
This was a city unlike any she’d seen, an unearthly place of crystal towers and globes and chess piece symmetry.
“It’s Moonlight,” said Collingdale. “We know the thing’ll go after this one.” He gazed at the omega’s image on the overhead.
But if the omega cared, or even noticed, there was no indication. Collingdale paced the bridge for hours, eyes blazing, his jaw clamped tight. He was talking to the cloud, cajoling it, challenging it, cursing it. And then apologizing to Kellie. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s goddam frustrating.” Somewhere he’d picked up a wrench and he stalked about with it gripped in one fist, as if he’d use it on the omega.
Kellie watched.
“Nobody’s afraid of you, you bastard.”
THEY WERE GETTING too far away from the cloud, so she cut the image, took the shuttle back on board, swung around behind the omega, and repeated her earlier maneuver, easing the Hawksbill down directly in its path again.
She also suggested they board the shuttle, and run the operation from there.
“No,” he said. “You go if you want. But the shuttle’s too small. Too much lightning out there. It gets hit once, and it’s over.”
She thought about ordering him to comply. She was, after all, the vessel’s captain. But they were running an operation, and that was his responsibility. His testosterone was involved, and she knew he’d resist, refuse, defy her. The last thing she needed at the moment was a confrontation. She relaunched and repositioned the vehicle, making a great show of it.
“I think it’s a mistake,” she said.
He shook his head. “Let’s just get the job done.”
“Have it your way. We’re ready to go.”
Collingdale stared hard at the navigation screen, on which an image of the shuttle floated. “Bill,” he said, “let’s have the cube.”
A box appeared. It was silver, and someone had added the legend BITE ME on one side. Its dimensions were similar to those of the hedgehog and the city.