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Buckman shook his head vigorously. "It's wobbling back and forth! The new star must be pulsing. It's traversing the arc. Half a million kilometers of sweep. More. We could conceivably Jump while it passes us, if it was anything like stable yet."

"I'll tell the other ships."

"It's strong enough that even Navy instruments should pick up, but go ahead." Buckman went back to his console.

Blaine used the lounge intercom. "Kevin. Buckman says this it. I'll alert Agamemnon."

"Agamemnon this is Sinbad. Alderson event detected in our vicinity. Buckman data attached to this message. Suggest you converge on probable Alderson point location. I am also sending this message to Atropos. Blaine."

They waited. Two minutes later the answer came. "Sinbad this is Agamemnon. We are under way at three gee, I say again, three standard gravities. We'll move toward you, but I will remain between the I-point and the exit to New Cal."

"Doesn't take him long to make decisions," Renner said. "He's about twenty light-seconds behind us, but he's not going where we are. He can get to the New Cal Jump point in"-he typed rapidly-about five hours, starting now. And Atropos is ahead of us. I don't know the best tactics."

"Depends too much on what comes through," Chris Blaine said crisply.

"What is it? What's happening?" Joyce eeled out of her cabin, hurriedly adjusting her clothing. "Moties? They've come through?"

"Not yet," Blaine said. "They will."

"Yeah," Renner said. "Dr. Buckman, have things stabilized at all?"

"Beginning to, yes, Kevin. Do you see how the I-point comes fast toward us along the arc and slow going back? I expect we're seeing irregular pulses on the protostar."

"Yeah. Boom and it settles down, boom and it settles down, boom. When the protostar stops flaring..."

"Well, for the next hundred thousand years it won't quite."

"Eases off, then. The I-point will be ahead of us, won't it? Closer to Atropos than us, and still wobbling a bit."

"At a guess, Kevin. This is a first in every way. The collapse of Buckman's Protostar into Buckman's Star."

"It's all guesses, but give Atropos about four and a half hours. At one gee we'll take about eight."

"But you and Buckman don't think we have four hours," Blaine said.

Renner said, "I know, can't push much more than a gee without killing Bury."

"Do not worry about me," Bury said from behind him. "I will be in my water bed. Nabil is bringing it to the lounge now."

"One and a half, then. No more," Renner said. "Okay, as soon as you get in it-

"Stabilized!" Buckman shouted.

"How do you know?"

"A ship came through. There's another! A light-second or two apart."

Renner brought the images up on his screen. "About three light-seconds ahead of us. Closer to us than Atropos-three ships." Renner's fingers were dancing. An alarm wheeped; Renner slapped the volume down. Secure for acceleration. "Four ships. Five."

Sinbad's motor lit. Objects drifted aft.

"They're well separated. The star must be still flaring, the I-point's still drifting."

"Mercy of Allah," Bury muttered. "Quickly, Nabil, get me into my water bed."

"I must secure it to the deck," Nabil said calmly. The little old assassin moved easily under what had become half a gee of pull.

"Six. Seven," Renner said. "Seven so far. Blaine, you'd better get Atropos on line."

"Roger. Doing it."

"What's happening?" Joyce Mei-Ling demanded from the lounge

"Secure for acceleration, dammit!" Renner shouted. "All hands, secure. Nabil, let me know when it's safe!'

"The bed is secured. If you do not turn too much, I can put him in it when we are under way."

"I'll hold it at one gee until you've got him set. Everyone secure? Buckman, you holding on to something? Here we go."

Sinbad eased up to one gee. "They're scattering," Renner said.

"Must have come through with different velocities," Blaine said. "It's just drift so far."

"Sure."

"They will scatter," Bury said. "Of course they will. Seven ships. They have been preparing for this for years. Kevin, can we intercept them all?"

"Not likely. Moties can't take as much gee stress as we can, but there's no way three ships can chase down seven. Not given that much head start."

"Sinbad this is Agamemnon. What's happening, Blaine?"

"Seven Motie ships so far," Blaine said. "Beyond us, and drifting in seven directions. I'll squirt up the data we have." He pressed keys, and the computer sent out what it had. Data twenty plus seconds out-of-date would be better than nothing.

Nearly a minute went by. "Blaine, they'll have plenty of time to recover from Jump shock before we get there," Balasingham's voice said. "Assuming each one accelerates along its present course, and giving them anything like the performance Motie ships had at the blockade point, we aren't going to catch more than four. Five tops, and that assumes we can cripple them without too much of a fight, which is assuming a lot. Damnation-"

Pause; then Balasingham said, "I think it's time to change tactics. I'm ordering Atropos to move toward the I-point and prepare to chase Motie ships. That gets him close to you. I'm taking Agomemnon back to block the way out of this system. Our entry point won't have changed enough to matter. We'll never catch them all, but maybe we can bottle them up in here."

"Not bloody likely," Blaine muttered. "But I suppose it's the best thing to try."

"Captain Renner," Balasingham continued. "You were given sealed orders when you left New Scotland. To be opened on my instructions. My orders said to have you do that when the situation got beyond my control. I hereby instruct you to open those orders.

"You'll find that your Reserve commission as Captain is activated, and you're in command of this expedition with the titular rank of commodore. I don't know what you can do, but I sure can't think of anything. I'm ordering Commander Rawlins in Atropos to put himself under your direction.

"Sir, I am now changing course to guard the Alderson point to New Caledonia. If you want me to do something else, tell me what it is. Agamemnon out.'

"God's navel," Renner said

"Kevin, have I heard correctly?" Bury demanded.

"Apparently," Renner said. "I heard it too."

"Moties," Joyce said from somewhere aft. "Chris-"

"Later."

"Yes, but-Chris, they're Moties!'

"Joyce, it's a great story, but there's no time!" Chris shouted.

"Captain, the first two Motie ships are under acceleration. They must be automated; Moties wouldn't have recovered yet."

"Wonder what kind of computer they trust to work that soon after a Jump?" Buckman muttered.

Chris Blaine examined the computer screen. "Continuing in their original directions. My guess is they'll all do that."

Renner said, "Scatter and lose us. Only seven ships, and I don't see any more... in fact I've lost one. I'd have thought they would send more."

"Me, too," Blaine said. "Maybe they couldn't."

"Spacecraft are expensive," Bury said. He sounded comfortable enough under 1.5 gravities. "Many resources, of different kinds. A complex society."

"Which may mean they've got problems," Renner said. "Jacob, where in the Mote system will their end of the tramline be?"

"Fairly far out. Well beyond the orbit of their gas giant, Mote Beta."

"We never looked at the Trojan civilizations," Renner said. "Maybe we should have."

Half an hour later it was clear enough. Chris Blaine went back to explain to Joyce and Bury: "There are seven Motie ships. Five are under full acceleration in five different directions. One of them is lost, to us and Agamemnon and everyone else. Maybe we'll find it. Maybe not."

"Mercy of Allah," Bury muttered. "And the seventh?"

"The seventh is headed directly toward us, Excellency."