Wan-To gave the equivalent of a silent and unseen nod. He knew what Haigh-tik liked, all right. He had liked the same things himself, when he created Haigh-tik—before he had decided that moving to a fresh star every few million years, when the big, bright ones were bound to go unstable, was too much trouble. He offered, "But, tell me, Haigh-tik, are you sure you'll get out before it collapses? Those O types burn up all their hydrogen so fast, and then—"
"Who said anything about an O?" Haigh-tik sneered.
Wan-To's "heart" leaped with exultation, but he kept his tone level. "Any of the big, hot young ones—they can all trap you."
"Not this one," Haigh-tik boasted. "I've just moved into it; it's got a good long time yet. Longer," he added, in a tone that fell just short of being menacing, "than a lot of us are going to have, if all this sniping at each other doesn't stop."
As soon as they had "hung up," Wan-To, highly pleased, began a search of his star catalogue. What he was looking for was a star of the kind human astronomers called a "Wolf-Rayet"—even hotter and younger than an O—and the newest of that kind he could find.
Then, with a certain sentimental regret, he summoned his clouds of graviphotons and graviscalars and sent them swarming to the likeliest candidate. Poor Haigh-tik! But Wan-To was only doing what had to be done, he reassured himself.
If there was one thing that could frighten Wan-To it was the thought of his own extinction. Stars, galaxies, even the universe itself—they all had fixed lifetimes, and he could accept the loss of any of them with equanimity. If all of his comrades were blown up he could stand that, too—he could always hive off new sections of himself for company (being very careful about what powers the new ones had, this time).
He thought hard for a time about that unpleasant subject. Wan-To was a great student of astrophysics and cosmology. It wasn't an abstract science to him. It was the stuff his life was made of. He understood the physics of the great and small …
And he could foresee a time when things could begin to get quite unpleasant for him, even if he survived the present squabbles.
When that particular Wolf-Rayet star was history, Wan-To (metaphorically crossing his nonexistent "fingers") called Haigh-tik on the ERP communicator again. And was very disappointed when Haigh-tik answered.
Haigh-tik had lied to him about his star!
But Wan-To saw the humor of it, and was amused—yes, and a little proud of his first-born offspring, too.
And Pal Sorricaine got his wish. Earthly astronomers did, in fact, adopt the term "Sorricaine-Mtiga stars" to describe that class of anomalous objects … right up to the time when their own Sun became one.
CHAPTER 10
Quinn Sorricaine-Mcgann was not only the first "legitimate" child of Viktor and Reesa—they nicknamed her "Nab," for "Not a Bastard"—she was also the last. Most of Reesa made a complete recovery, but she could never have another child. But considering Newmanhome's prospective future as little Quinn was growing up, neither Reesa nor Viktor was sure they wanted another.
Newmanhome wasn't a paradise anymore. It was getting definitely colder. The growing season on South Continent had shortened, and that was the end of spring wheat and long-ripening soy. The uniform of the day had changed, even in the settlement: no more shorts and shirts all year around. It was sweaters and shoes, and if it had not been for the flood of hot geothermal water that came from the wells—more and more of them every year, as the colonists foresaw the increasing need for power as well as heat—their homes would have been chilly.
The skies at night were woefully changed. The stars had slid about the sky and changed color: In one direction they were definitely blue-white, in the other yellowish red, and in between there was a growing band of no stars at all, except for the handful that were traveling with them.
On Quinn's thirteenth birthday—she was then the equivalent of a healthy Earthly seven-year-old—her father was just returning from Christmas Island with a shipload of evacuees; the Archipelago wasn't fit for human beings anymore. He was anxious to be there for the birthday, but storms had delayed them. It was a nasty trip: high waves, three hundred refugees in space that really wasn't meant to hold more than a quarter of that, and most of them seasick most of the way. As he entered the harbor at Homeport snow was falling, and the whole city was covered in white.
He hurried to his house and found Quinn happily making a snowman, while the little girl's aunt, Edwina, stood by. Edwina was a grown-up young woman now, with a family of her own. They kissed, but Viktor was frowning. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said. After Edwina had married Billy Stockbridge, Pal's disciple, the two of them had emigrated to South Continent, where there was a need for workers in drilling geothermal wells.
"They closed the project down," Edwina said. "The way the weather's going, it wouldn't have been producing power in time to save any of the crops."
Viktor nodded soberly. South Continent had been the first part of Newmanhome's inhabited areas to feel the effects of the cooling sun. Winter came early. The vast farmlands were fertile as always, but when a killing frost came the farms died. "Where's Reesa?"
"Don't get too cold," Edwina called to Quinn and her own children, who nodded without looking up from their work.
"Reesa? Oh, Jake came by for her a couple of hours ago. They're taking Father's refresher course; I expect Billy's there, too."
Viktor frowned. Of course, Jake Lundy had to be accorded some sort of status—would you call him a friend of the family? Well, of some parts of the family, since he was the father of one of Edwina's children, too. (The man was really excessively active, Viktor thought.) It was quite normal for him to come around to see his daughter, but Viktor hadn't known he was spending time with his daughter's mother again. "What refresher course?" he asked.
"Dad's course. The one he's giving on space piloting. No, not astrophysics this time; I said piloting. They're using the old trainers."
"For what?" Viktor demanded, astonished.
"What else could you use them for but practicing space piloting?" his sister asked witheringly. "Don't ask me, anyway. You'd know more about that sort of thing than I would, and it's just an idea of Dad's."
Her contemptuous tone made Viktor blink in surprise. Edwina had always been Daddy's girl. She had consistently taken Pal Sorricaine's side against Viktor—probably, Viktor believed, because she had been too little to be aware of what was going on when their mother died. He said, as tactfully as he could, "I thought you liked Dad's ideas—whatever this one is."
"It's not my business, is it?" she replied with a shrug. "I think the kids ought to come in now," she fretted. "Vik? We're going to have a birthday party for Quinn right at sundown—they ought to be back by then. But I'd really appreciate it if you could take the kids out of the way until then, so I can get things ready."
"Sure," Viktor said, still looking at her with that inquiring gaze.
She flushed and then said angrily, "Oh, what the hell. They can do what they want, but I don't have to like it. What's the point? What's happening is obviously Divine will!"
What Viktor really wanted to do was to find out what his father's "refresher course" was all about, but since it was Quinn's birthday, after all, that would have to wait. As a good father/uncle, he took Quinn and Edwina's three littler ones on a tour of his ship as she lay at dockside.
It was one of his better ideas. The children were thrilled. There were serious stinks in the passenger holds, where the work crews were doing their best to sluice them clean after the nasty voyage and only beginning to make a dent in the filth, but the bad smells only made the children giggle and complain. Then he took them down into the engine room, where the hydrogen turbines provided the force to spin the ship's rotors against the wind. That was a different kind of stink, oil and hot metal, and the big machines were very satisfying to look at for young children.