[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Harry tried to grab Poole's arm; his fingers passed through cloth and flesh in a cloud of pixels. "Michael.
Look at the Spline."
The first warship had crossed the zenith now and seemed to be receding from the earth-craft. As it
worked its way through the sky it rolled, as if peering from side to side like some obscene eyeball; deep
in craterlike pores Poole saw the glint of blood and metal.
The Spline's partner, the second warship, was clear of the Interface. It was already the size of a large
coin, and it grew visibly.
The second ship seemed to be coming straight down at them.
"Only two," Berg muttered.
Poole glanced at her, startled; her face was screwed up tight around peering eyes, a mask of appraisal.
"What?"
"No sign of any more coming through the portal. There's already been time for a third to start
appearing."
Poole shook his head, amazed at her ability to think her way through the looming threat from the sky.
"Do you think something's stopping them, at the other end?"
Berg shook her head with a brief, dismissive jerk. "No way. Two is all they think they need."
Shira's hands climbed over each other like anxious little animals. "Please," she said. "The teepee."
Poole ignored her. "What do you think they're doing?"
Berg, her fear gone now, or at least suppressed, tracked the silent motion of the Spline. "The first one's
leaving Jovian space."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Poole frowned. "Heading where? The inner Solar System?"
"It's logical," Berg said dryly. "That's where Earth lies, fat and waiting."
"And the second?"
"...Is coming down our damn throats."
Shira said, "You need not fear. When the Project comes to fruition these events will be... translated into
harmless shadows."
Poole and Berg, dropping their heads from the ugly movements in the sky, studied the Friend.
"She's crazy," Berg said.
Shira leaned forward, her blue eyes pale and intense. "You must understand. The Project will correct all
of this. The continuance of the Project is must be the top priority for all of us. Including you, our
visitors."
"Even above defending ourselves defending Earth against a Spline attack?" Poole asked. "Shira, this
may be the best chance well have of defeating the assault. And "
She didn't seem to be hearing him. "The Projectmust be seen through," she said. "Accelerated, in fact."
The girl looked from one to the other of them, searching their faces, pleading for understanding; Michael
felt as if he could see the practiced phrases rolling meaninglessly through her mind. "You will come with
me now."
"What do you think?" Poole said to Berg. "Will they force us? Do they have weapons?"
"You know they do," Berg said calmly. "You saw what they did to my boat."
"So we've no way of impelling them to do anything." He heard the frustration, the despair in his own
voice. "They're not going to oppose the Spline at all; they're putting all their faith in this Project of theirs.
The magic Project that will solve everything."
Berg growled softly.
She lashed out sideways with her bunched fist.
She caught the Friend squarely on the temple. Shira fell loosely, crumpling, as if supporting strings had
been cut; she lay with her small, skull-like face fringed by pink-stained grass.
Harry, staring down, said, "Wow."
"She won't stay out long," Miriam said. "We need to move fast."
Poole glanced up at the still-growing, rolling form of the Spline warship. "What do we do?"
"We have to take out both Spline," Berg muttered. "That much is obvious. As long as either of them is
loose In the Solar System, the whole damn race is in peril."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Oh, sure." Harry said. "Let's take 'em both out. Or, on the other hand, why don't we think big?I have a
cunning plan..."
"Shut up, Harry," Michael said absently. "All right, Miriam, we're listening. How?"
"We'll have to split up. Harry, is theCrab's boat ready to lift?"
Harry closed his eyes, as if looking within. "Yes," he said.
Shira stirred on the grass, moaning softly.
"Maybe you can get away in the boat," Miriam said. "While the Friends are still running about confused,
trying to stow everything. Get back to theCrab and go after the first Spline, the one that's heading for
Earth. Maybe you can catch it before it engages its hyperdrive."
"And then what?"
Berg grinned tightly. "How should I know? I'm making this up as I'm going along. You'll have to think of
something."
"All right. What about you?"
Berg looked up. The second Spline, advancing on the earth-craft, loomed still closer; it was a fleshy
moon above them. "I'll try to do something about that one," Berg said. "Maybe I can get to those
singularity cannons."
Shira moaned again and seemed to be trying to raise her face from the grass.
Poole said, "And her?"
Berg shrugged. "Take her with you. Maybe she'll be able to help you."
Poole bent, picked up the girl; her protruding eyes, trying to fix on his face, slid across the sky like
poorly tracking cameras.
Berg searched Poole's face. "I need to say good-bye, Michael," she said.
Harry looked from Poole, to Miriam, and back to Poole; and he winked politely out of existence.
Michael looked beyond the village of Xeelee-material huts, toward the center of the earth-craft. Three
burly Friends were running toward them. No, four. And they were carrying something. Weapons?
He turned back to Berg. "You'll never make it to the center of the craft," he said. "Come with us."
Harry's head popped out of space, close to Miriam's ear. "Sorry, folks," he said, "but you haven't a lot
of time for this."
Miriam grinned briefly, ran her hand through her stubble of hair, and took a deep breath. "But I'm not
going to the center of the craft. Good-bye, Michael." And she swiveled away from Michael, away from
the approaching Friends and started to run, toward the edge of the world.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Michael Poole stood watching her for one second, mouth open.
Shira wriggled harder in his arms, kicking like a stranded fish.
There was no more time. Michael turned on his heel and ran for his boat, the ungainly burden of Shira
flopping in his arms, the disembodied head of his father floating at his side.
* * *
The rim of the craft, ahead of her, was a fringe of grass, incongruous against the bruised-purple
countenance of Jupiter.
Her mind raced.
From the circular village of the Friends of Wigner, Berg had about a hundred yards to run to the lip of
the craft. Well, she could cover that distance in maybe ten seconds, on the flat. But the weakening of
gravity as she approached the edge ought to let her speed up as long as she didn't fall flat on her
face but on the other hand she'd be climbing out of the earth-craft's gravity well, so she'd feel as if she
were running uphill...
Yes. Already the ground seemed to be tipping up beneath her.
She tried to work with the weakening gravity, gain whatever advantage she could: she consciously
slowed her pace, letting her stride broaden and carry her farther.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]