On one screen the Joey was a streak of fire across black space. Its gravity generator was running in parallel with its chemical rockets. And there was something else. On the surface of the great sphere a spot of light was growing. Peter Robinson was firing its laser ahead of it. The stony shell was boiling away, revealing the Amplifier's structure.
Another screen showed the Joey's cabin. Peter Robinson was slumped over the control console, his head a mask of bubbling blood, the claws of one hand barely moving on the controls.
The thrint control seemed to be wavering now. In Richard's vision the white-boned image of Death flickered a moment. The Joey's laser was burning into the Amplifier. Richard, unable to move or speak, remembered the shuttle's nuclear missiles and self-destruct. The Amplifier and the line of fire that was the Joey were on the same screen now. The screen went white.
Wallaby's General Products hull should be safe when the wave-front and any fragments struck them, and nothing essential protruded beyond it. The thrint image and voice had ended abruptly in every mind. The screen began to fade.
The stasis-boxes in the control chamber-the unused atomic clocks and their crews and the thrintun and slaves in stasised suits-would be flung scattering into space, to be captured eventually by the gravityfields of some distant suns. They might one day enter the embrace of neutron stars or black holes. They might perhaps pass out into the black voids between the spiral arms, into the voids between the island galaxies. They might survive the end of the universe. But the Amplifier was gone.
He activated the restraining webs for the survivors before the wave front of wreckage struck them. "As well that they were determined to let us all know exactly what they had against the tnuctipun," said Richard. "And as well their technology was imperfect. As well. Many things were as well." He began to laugh and found he could not stop.
"Sapient life in the galaxy was saved by a telepath of the kzinti species," said Gay. "We must tell Humanity."
"We must tell Kzin," said Charrgh-Captain, "Let them honor a telepath. A Wunderkzin telepath, for it was Wunderland and the humans that made him what he was. A telepath of the Patriarchy could not have done what he did… nor… nor any Hero." He pulled from his claw a tuft of Peter Robinson's orange fur, flesh and a fragment of bone adhering to it. "That will go to a worship-shrine," he said. "He spoke of statues. There will be a statue of him in the sky of Homeworld forever, high above the Patriarch's Palace. I pledge my Name as my Word that it shall be so."
"Poor Peter Robinson!" said Gay.
"No," said Charrgh-Captain. "Do not pity his death, though you see a Kzin standing before you who now envies you humans your gift of tears. Sapient life will be his monument forevermore… Forgive my madness."
"The Amplifier caused it," said Gay. "Even before the command struck. There is nothing to forgive."
At its deepest moment I dreamed of joining the Riit Clan… But he will face the Fanged God as a son honored beyond the Patriarchs… almost an equal. There are no words for such glory."
Look there!" Gay pointed at the screen. The electromagnetic pulse of the explosion was being overridden now.
"The Joey!… She survived!"
"I'd forgotten. She is also a General Products hull."
"She's under some sort of control. He lives… or he lived recently."
Other screens were clearing now. Charrgh-Captain turned abruptly away before the Joey's cabin could be seen again.
"I ask you to bring him in without me," he said. "If he is still alive your waldos can lift him into the kzin autodoc. I go to my cabin. Before the God, I cannot face him… Later, perhaps. Tell him what I will do." He turned and left.
Richard opened the docking bay. The Joey, carrying Peter Robinson, came into sight and grew. "Can you handle it?" said Gay. "Yes. And then what?"
"Let's go home," said Gay.