"Are we to go there, then?"
"We can't. This freighter is going to Otranto. But maybe, there, we can find a ship that's going to Terra."
"Of course, we may not need to," Yorick said. "If we can just find a quiet place for a little while, Doc Angus can shoot me the spare parts I need to make a time machine." He sighed. "Of course, there is another little problem…"
Rod felt the familiar cold chill spread over his back. "Oh? What problem?"
"The Futurians. I mean, they kidnapped you in the first place. Then they set up an elaborate little plot that had almost everybody on Wolmar cooperating in an attempt to assassinate you."
"Yeah, but that was Wolmar," Rod said. "And the people of this time haven't invented faster-than-light radio yet, so their communication is still limited to couriers riding FTL ships, like this one."
Yorick nodded. "But VETO and SPITE have time machines. So they can send a message from Wolmar to Otranto, and get it there the next day." He frowned. "Or the day before, if it comes to that."
Rod stared.
"So it's quite possible, Major, that we might find a reception committee waiting for us."
Rod leaned back, trying to relax. "Give me a little while to get used to the idea."
"Sure." Yorick leaned back, too, and twiddled his thumbs. "You've got time. A couple of days, at least."
"The waiting is driving me crazy," Chornoi growled. "Anticipay-hay-hay-shun," Yorick sang.
The world twisted inside out.
Then it twisted right-side-out again, leaving Gwen holding her stomach. Rod clapped a hand over his mouth. They both swallowed, hard, then looked across the cabin. Chornoi was a delicate shade of green, and Yorick was gulping air. "Yes," he said finally, "Well—the wonders of modern travel, right?"
Rod nodded. "The price you pay for speed, and all that."
The Neanderthal heaved himself to his feet and waddled down the aisle to the viewscreen. "As long as we're back where there's something to see, let's look at the outside, instead of this saccharine melodrama that nobody's been watching anyway." He punched a button, and a vast vista of unwinking stars replaced the 3DT program.
"Hey!" yelped Chornoi. "How'll I find out whether or not Chuck will stop Allison from marrying Tony, because she's about to have Tommy's baby, but doesn't want Karen to have Tony, even though she really wants to marry Chuck?"
Then she fell silent, awed by the majesty of the panorama before her. The computer had dimmed the brightness of the sun, of course, or they wouldn't have been able to look directly at it, even though it was only a very small disk in the center of the huge screen. Blips that were planets floated around it, brightened and colorized electronically—and the net impression was gorgeous. Gwen caught her breath with delight. "Eh, my lord! Be this truly how a sun and its worlds do appear?"
Rod nodded. "This is the real thing, darling. Of course, if you saw it with your naked eye, the sun would be a lot brighter, and the planets would be lost in its glare. They aren't lined up so neatly that you can count them, but you can ferret 'em out. Let's see—there's one, that little dot near the sun, that's probably a planet. And, yes, there's number two, a little further away, and number three…"
"Yet what is that one that doth grow?"
Rod frowned. "Yeah, that is kind of funny."
"Not humorous at all!" Yorick whirled and scuttled back to his seat. "That swelling dot is growing knobs and fins! Web in, everybody—we're about to be intercepted!"
Rod stared. Then he whipped about to Gwen, but her webbing was still secure from break out. So was his, for that matter.
"What's the trouble?" Chornoi looked around at them, frowning. "So they're intercepting us. They're not going to shoot us down, you know."
"No," Rod grated, "we don't know. They tried to kill us twice already, remember?"
Chornoi stared at the screen, her eyes growing huge.
Gwen frowned up at Rod. "What is it, mine husband?"
"Another ship," Rod explained, "and there's no way to tell who's steering it."
Across the aisle, Yorick looked nervous. "I'm sure the captain is busy trying to find out that very datum."
The glowing dot had swelled into the form of a spaceship, seen head-on. It spat a bolt of light that washed the screen with searing brightness. The ship lurched about them, and somewhere, a huge gong chimed.
"Yoicks!" Yorick bleated. "What a way to answer a hail! Doesn't his radio work?"
Rod felt his stomach sliding over toward his left kidney. "Everybody hold on! Our pilot isn't waiting for a second sentence!"
On the screen, the attacking ship slid up to the upper right-hand corner. Another bolt of energy shot out from it— and off the screen.
"Missed!" Rod squeezed his fist tight. "Way to go, skipper! Zig your zags!"
His stomach dropped back toward his coccyx. Gwen gasped, and Chornoi moaned. On the screen, the attacker veered toward the lower left-hand corner, and the stars wheeled behind it. The sun slipped toward the left, too.
"Be brave, dear." Rod clasped her hand. "It has to end some time." Hopefully, the right way…
"Tis not… entirely… unpleasant," Gwen gasped. "I
shall become accustomed to it, my lord."
"I hope you won't have time…"
The enemy ship fired another bolt that lit up the upper right-hand corner of the screen. The sun-disc drifted off the screen to the left.
"Missed again." Rod nodded. "Have we got a good pilot!"
"Or a good computer," Yorick added. "No human being could react this fast. So just punch the buttons for 'evasive action.'"
Rod glowered at him. "Just had to make a point of it, didn't you?"
Yorick grinned. "What can I tell you? Homo sapiens has its limits, too."
"You don't have to be so happy about it, though… Whoa! Hold on!"
The other ship veered into the center of the screen; the sun-disc disappeared entirely.
"What is that maniac doing?" Chornoi gasped.
"Trying to get between the ship and the planet." Rod put out an arm as Gwen leaned over against him—or tried to, but the webbing held her tightly.
"Smart!" Chornoi's eyes glowed. "If he can get close enough to the planet's surface, the bandit won't dare shoot, for fear he'll fry innocent people."
"I… don't… really think that would make him hesitate." Rod scowled. "But he might attract the attention of the local constabulary."
"You mean I'm supposed to cheer for the cops?" Chomoi asked.
"Why not? You were one…"
On the screen, the pirate spat another bolt. It mushroomed out to fill the screen with glaring whiteness, and the whole cabin sang as though they were inside a piano string. Stars glared through a ragged hole in the ceiling.
"Abandon ship!" Yorick howled. "Or is it the other way around?"
But Rod didn't answer. His eyes lost focus as, frantically, he concentrated on his psi powers, seeing the passenger blister not as it really was, but as he wanted it to be. In his mind's eye, he saw the little bulge falling away from the main freight ship. He pictured a thin membrane sliding over the open side, where the ship had been.
Yorick looked around, flabbergasted. "Hey! I can still breathe! How come we're not drinking vacuum? How come our blood isn't boiling out our noses, from sheer lack of air pressure?"
Chornoi saw Rod's abstracted gaze. "Major, what are you doing?"
To Rod, her words seemed to come thinly from a great distance. Carefully, he answered, "I'm… holding the air… in… with us."
Chornoi stared. White showed around the irises of her eyes.
"Gwen?"
"Aye, my lord."
"We're… falling."