Nick's snort seemed to fill the inside of Sib's helmet with scorn. "I told you to pay attention. This is getting ridiculous. If you navigate out there as well as you do in here, you'd better cut my arms free and give me that rifle right now. You might not get another chance."

"Stop it, Nick," Davies snapped. "If he weren't going with you, we wouldn't let you do this at all. You would still be tied up, and whatever happens to Soar Soar would happen without you." would happen without you."

Nick gave a short laugh like a burst of static, but he didn't retort.

As the lift slid upward, Davies activated the intercom. "We're at the airlock," he reported. No doubt Angus already knew this: he could see it on his maintenance status readouts. Apparently Davies kept talking to control his own tension. "I'll wait in the lift until they're off the ship. And I'm keeping the gun. If Nick tries anything in the lock, I might be able to stop him."

Again Nick laughed roughly.

"Sib?" Morn put in unexpectedly. "Can you hear me?" Her voice sounded anxious through the speakers; too personal to be meant for him.

"Yes, Morn."

He might have been choking. The pressure in his suit still felt high. He resisted an impulse to lower it further.

"Sib," Morn replied as if she were in a hurry; as if she, too, feared freezing. "I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know why you think you're not brave. You help me when I need it. It's never easy-it wouldn't be easy if you were crazy with courage. But you do it anyway."

Spare me, Sib thought. Misery kept him mute.

"As far as I'm concerned," Morn finished, "that's better than being brave."

"Please," Nick put in cheerfully. "Let's not get all mushy here. This is supposed to be fun."

Davies snarled a low curse, but Nick ignored him.

"Two minutes," Angus announced. "Get in the airlock. We're coming up on that asteroid. If you miss it, I'll have to double back."

"Right." Davies thumbed the intercom and began entering codes to open the doors between the lift and the airlock. While the doors slid aside, he turned to Sib.

He showed Sib his scalpel, then tucked it into a utility pouch on the belt of Sib's suit. "In case you don't feel like lasering that tape off his arms," he explained.

Once again Sib nodded invisibly inside his helmet.

"Come on," Nick commanded. b.u.mping a shoulder against the wall of the car for thrust, he pushed himself through the doors.

In spite of himself, Sib hesitated. He knew too well what he was getting into. This was his last chance to change his mind: right here, before the airlock sealed and started decompression. He could free Nick's arms, hand Nick the rifle; he could stay with Davies while Nick carried his lifelong hatred of Sorus Chatelaine to its logical conclusion.

He could avoid the cold dark and the memory of his own raw screams. Leave someone else to strike out at the Amnion for the harm they'd done to Ciro and Morn and his whole family.

You do it anyway. That's better than being brave.

Certainly it was better than begging for mercy and being refused over and over again while the people he loved died or worse because he couldn't defend them.

"Say good-bye to Mikka and Ciro for me," he told Davies. "I'm glad I knew them."

Davies didn't say, You'll see them again. We'll get you back. Maybe he didn't believe it.

Swallowing terror, Sib coasted into the airlock.

Angus' voice spattered in his ears. "Do it now."

At once Davies turned to the control panel. Servos pulled the doors shut with a solid, interlocking thunk; sealed Sib alone with Nick. A moment later the EVA suits distended as pumps sucked air out of the lock.

"Don't look so pitiful," Nick gibed. He couldn't see Sib's face, any more than Sib could see his: he was talking to be heard on the bridge. "This is going to be the G.o.dd.a.m.n highlight of your life. From here on all you have to do is cover my back. They'll think you're a f.u.c.king hero, even if the only thing you really do is fill your suit with s.h.i.t."

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it, Nick-" Morn began. And Davies barked, "Back off, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! If he doesn't cut your arms loose, you're still helpless."

But Sib didn't care what Nick said. All that mattered now was the outer seal of the airlock-the last thin doors between him and black s.p.a.ce. They eased aside when all the air was gone, opening Trumpet Trumpet to the deadly, imponderable rush of the swarm. to the deadly, imponderable rush of the swarm.

He saw midnight outside. Unseen shapes and ineffable seething crowded the dark. A momentary glare of static limned the rock Angus had chosen with strange fire. Then the light vanished, making the darkness deeper.

"Let's go" go" Nick breathed urgently. Nick breathed urgently.

Awkward because of the guns he carried, Sib turned on his suit's headlamps. Around one gloved fist he wrapped the end of the line which Davies had attached to Nick's bonds.

"OK," he croaked out.

At once Nick c.o.c.ked his hips, fired his jets.

Gusts of gas and the line of tape pulled Sib like cargo from the airlock into the absolute cold of the asteroid swarm.

He could scarcely remember what happened next. The racket of his pulse and the labor of his breathing must have deafened his brain; fear must have blinded it. Momentary fragments came back to him-drifting in the bottomless dark, pressure on the line he gripped for his life, Nick's harsh voice-and then faded again; he couldn't retain them. Nothing stayed in his head except the echo of old screams until after he'd spent half an hour clinging to the rock at Nick's side, anch.o.r.ed by compression pitons while he watched the elaborate aftermath of the Lab's destruction flare and blaze like a distant light show.

Nick must have pulled him to the asteroid: he couldn't have managed that on his own. I kept on screaming until I lost my voice. kept on screaming until I lost my voice. Apparently he'd cut Nick's bonds, surrendered one of the guns: Nick's arms cradled the laser rifle in front of him, and the tape was gone. I Apparently he'd cut Nick's bonds, surrendered one of the guns: Nick's arms cradled the laser rifle in front of him, and the tape was gone. I thought as long as I could hear myself I wouldn't go insane. thought as long as I could hear myself I wouldn't go insane. Probably someone-Nick or a voice from Probably someone-Nick or a voice from Trumpet Trumpet-had told him there were pitons in his utility pouch. Afraid I might be turned into an Amnioni just by watching it done to my family. Afraid I might be turned into an Amnioni just by watching it done to my family. Otherwise how would he have known? Otherwise how would he have known?

None of it had to happen.

On the other hand, he didn't need anyone to explain the light. He seemed to understand it by direct intuition, as if the raw glare and glow of coruscation from deep within the swarm found echoes among his recollections of dismay. He'd been Captain's Fancy's Captain's Fancy's data first: he had at least a theoretical understanding of super-light proton cannon. And he could easily imagine what kind of nuclear furnace had powered Deaner Beckmann's domain. The forces devouring the Lab wouldn't burn themselves out until every attainable particle of matter had been cracked open and consumed. Fed with static generated by the complex boil of the swarm, those forces crackled in the pit of the dark like lightning and St. Elmo's fire gone mad. Blast after blast, light etched the asteroids in the distance until they seemed to writhe, hurt like living tissue by the fury they absorbed. And after each blast, lingering pressure in his optic nerves left him utterly blind. data first: he had at least a theoretical understanding of super-light proton cannon. And he could easily imagine what kind of nuclear furnace had powered Deaner Beckmann's domain. The forces devouring the Lab wouldn't burn themselves out until every attainable particle of matter had been cracked open and consumed. Fed with static generated by the complex boil of the swarm, those forces crackled in the pit of the dark like lightning and St. Elmo's fire gone mad. Blast after blast, light etched the asteroids in the distance until they seemed to writhe, hurt like living tissue by the fury they absorbed. And after each blast, lingering pressure in his optic nerves left him utterly blind.

I saw everything. If they were just being killed, I would have gone back inside and tried to fight for them. But I saw them injected.

Recollection froze him like the total cold of the void.

Trumpet was long gone. Her voices in his helmet had broken up and then faded some time ago; he wasn't sure when. was long gone. Her voices in his helmet had broken up and then faded some time ago; he wasn't sure when.

But Soar Soar was coming. If she survived the havoc she'd made of Deaner Beckmann's installation- was coming. If she survived the havoc she'd made of Deaner Beckmann's installation- "Jesus," Nick breathed as if he were proud of himself. "Isn't that something? I've never seen anything like it.

"I've been waiting for this all my life. I'm going to light a fire like that in her heart. When she dies, she'll consider h.e.l.l an improvement."

Nick was crazy: Sib knew that. No matter how totally they took Sorus Chatelaine by surprise, one or even two laser rifles simply could not do a ship Soar's Soar's size all the damage Nick hungered for. Nevertheless Sib didn't argue. He no longer cared what Nick said. Deep inside himself, he concentrated on holding his thoughts and memories and actions together so that finally-for perhaps the first time-he could choose what happened to him. size all the damage Nick hungered for. Nevertheless Sib didn't argue. He no longer cared what Nick said. Deep inside himself, he concentrated on holding his thoughts and memories and actions together so that finally-for perhaps the first time-he could choose what happened to him.

His life had come to this. There was nothing else left.

After watching the Lab's lambent, unsteady ruin for a few more minutes, Sib asked, "When will we feel the shock wave?"

"We won't." Nick was sure. Over the years he'd claimed any number of times that he could do algorithms in his head. "Captain Thermo-pile was right about that. There's too much rock in the way-too much inertia. It'll absorb the actual concussion. We can relax, enjoy the show." He might have been talking about some naive bit of theater.

"What about Soar?" Soar?" Sib pursued. "She must have been sitting right on top of that blast. What did it do to her?" Sib pursued. "She must have been sitting right on top of that blast. What did it do to her?"

Nick turned toward Sib. His headlamps shed smears of refraction down Sib's polarized faceplate.

"Sib Mackern," he snorted, "you never fail to amaze me. You are so f.u.c.king slow. slow. Don't you get it? Has this whole sequence of events"-he sneered the words-"gone over your head? Don't you get it? Has this whole sequence of events"-he sneered the words-"gone over your head?

"She didn't need to use a super-light proton beam. She could have hit Beckmann with matter cannon and not made it so absolutely f.u.c.king obvious who was doing it. But then his power plant wouldn't have blown.

"She used her d.a.m.n proton gun because she wanted that explosion. She wanted the shock wave.

"Sure, it's going to scrub out our particle trace. It'll erase every decipherable emission in the whole sector." His voice was heavy with contempt for his companion. "But she doesn't need to track us. She knows our course. All she has to do is clean the garbage out of the way and come after us.

"That's what this blast is for. If she burns just right, she can ride the wave front-let it clear the way and carry her along at maybe five or six times Trumpet's Trumpet's velocity. Of course, she'll have to brake as the front dissipates, do her own work after that. But in the meantime she'll cover a lot of distance." velocity. Of course, she'll have to brake as the front dissipates, do her own work after that. But in the meantime she'll cover a lot of distance."

As if Sorus Chatelaine's ingenuity pleased him, he finished, "She probably gained two hours in the first ten seconds after she fired that d.a.m.n cannon."

Oh, G.o.d, Sib panted to himself. New fears crawled around his abdomen. "You mean-"

"That's right," Nick jeered. "She's going to get here long before you figure out how to be as brave as that s.h.i.t-crazy b.i.t.c.h"-he didn't need to say Morn's name-"thinks you are."

Light throbbed and glowered in the heart of the swarm. Secondary discharges traced jagged lines from rim to rim of Sib's vision, defining impossible horizons. The aftermath of the Lab's destruction appeared to be generating its own coriolus forces, mounting in savagery instead of diminishing- Soar might come into range at any time. might come into range at any time.

"In that case," Sib said thinly, "you'd better tell me what we're going to do."

The sudden vehemence of Nick's reaction nearly pulled him free of his anchor. "You "You aren't going to do aren't going to do anything," anything," he rasped inside Sib's helmet. "You're a self-righteous, mutineering a.s.shole, and I'm sick to death of you. I'm sick of you and Vector and Mikka and all you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who think you have a right to do anything except take orders. I will he rasped inside Sib's helmet. "You're a self-righteous, mutineering a.s.shole, and I'm sick to death of you. I'm sick of you and Vector and Mikka and all you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who think you have a right to do anything except take orders. I will fry fry you before I let you interfere with me. you before I let you interfere with me.

"Are you listening to me? You can hang on to that little squirt gun. If you want, you can stick it in your mouth and suck on it. But Sorus Chatelaine is mine. mine. You are going to stay right where you f.u.c.king are and keep out of my f.u.c.king way." You are going to stay right where you f.u.c.king are and keep out of my f.u.c.king way."

Sib's rifle pointed at Nick's chest. He didn't want to be killed here, now, while unresolved fears filled his head, and he could still hear himself screaming. The idea that Nick intended to spare him closed around his heart like the cold of s.p.a.ce.

Nick didn't want him to do anything. He could wait where he was while Soar Soar pa.s.sed by. Stay alive: stay out of Sorus Chatelaine's hands. If pa.s.sed by. Stay alive: stay out of Sorus Chatelaine's hands. If Trumpet Trumpet came back for him, he would know mercy at last. came back for him, he would know mercy at last.

It might happen. If he let it.

Half an hour pa.s.sed. More? Less? He didn't know. Gradually he concluded that the Lab's death storm was lessening. Light still streaked like cries through the chaos of rock, but by degrees it lost its garish intensity. The Lab was gone, burned down to its atoms and discharged into the void. The illumination would die when it exhausted its final fuel.

Nick had begun murmuring over and over again, "Anytime now," repeating himself as if he were unaware that Sib could hear him. "Anytime now. Count the minutes, b.i.t.c.h. You don't have many left."

Sib didn't listen. In this place-small as an atom himself within the jostling confusion of the swarm-he could believe that the moral order of his life might be overturned.

He caught his first glimpse of the ship because she seemed to emerge straight from the heart of the Lab's diminished deflagration; created by violence and ravage. Backlit with fire, she loomed out of the dark like a black behemoth, dwarfing Sib and Nick and the asteroid to which they clung; dwarfing every chunk of rock in the vicinity.

"There!" Nick announced in a husky whisper, as if his voice was stuck in his throat, trapped by pa.s.sions he couldn't swallow.

Her lights were on, searching the vacuum around her: no sane captain navigated an asteroid swarm without using video to complement scan, in case some freak emission echo or sensor glitch masked an obstacle. In a few moments Sib saw her outlines clearly. Roughly ovoid, studded with antennae, receptors, dishes, and gun ports, and sliding forward without a sound, as if she floated on oil, she soon seemed to fill the visual window of his faceplate, even though she was still two or three k away.

Her lights showed the scars of old battles, the marks of fresh damage. One dent licked along her prow; another left an impression like a crater amidships. And farther back her hull had been holed: torn metal opened on darkness inside her. A cargo bay, Sib guessed.

That was the way in. If the interior bulkheads could be cut, one or two laser rifles might actually do the ship some harm. Not enough to stop her; but maybe enough to slow her down-weaken her.

He'd stopped sweating. His suit indicators warned that he was in danger of dehydration.

Keep out of my f.u.c.king way.

He still didn't have an answer. He'd spent years obeying-and fearing-Nick.

Nick crouched against his pitons. His helmet c.o.c.ked back and forth as he studied Soar Soar, measured her progress, then checked his rifle to confirm that it was fully charged.

"Cut me, will you?" he muttered. "Come on, b.i.t.c.h. Just a little closer. Come find out what that costs."

He didn't speak to Sib again. As far as Sib could tell, Nick had forgotten that he existed.

"It's time to pay."

The ship was less than a kilometer away when Nick released his pitons, launched himself with a kick toward her looming bulk. He didn't use his jets; didn't need them. Instead he coasted like a stone for the huge ship.

Sib watched with his heart full of old cries. Despite the warmth of his suit, he could feel black cold soaking into him.

Stay right where you f.u.c.king are. Let Let Soar Soar go on past. Stay alive alone in the dark. Hope that the resources of his suit held out until go on past. Stay alive alone in the dark. Hope that the resources of his suit held out until Trumpet Trumpet could come back for him; that could come back for him; that Trumpet Trumpet survived long enough, or cared enough, to come back for him. survived long enough, or cared enough, to come back for him.

Or go. Defy Nick one last time; stop begging to be spared. Try to strike some kind of blow for all the people he loved.

You do it anyway. Maybe that was true. Maybe Morn had made it true by saying it aloud. Maybe that was true. Maybe Morn had made it true by saying it aloud.

If he let Nick spare him, he would have to pay for it.

Nick sailed away. Every few seconds Soar's Soar's lights touched him, gleaming along his suit like a hint of stars. He'd aimed himself well ahead of the ship: his trajectory looked like it would intersect hers in another moment or two. lights touched him, gleaming along his suit like a hint of stars. He'd aimed himself well ahead of the ship: his trajectory looked like it would intersect hers in another moment or two.

Sib didn't wait for mercy. He said no no himself. himself.

Jamming his feet under him, he thrust off from the asteroid.

He didn't breathe. He wasn't sure there was still air in his suit. He couldn't tell whether he'd jumped straight or hard enough to reach the ship. He concentrated on Nick as if he thought that Nick could somehow draw him where he needed to go.

Adrift like a mote in the rush of the swarm, he sailed toward the huge ship.

Now he saw that Nick wasn't heading for the breached cargo bay in Soar's Soar's flank. Instead he aimed at her prow. As fatal as spikes, her forward guns jutted from their ports-sleek laser tubes, ma.s.sive matter cannon shafts, complex proton emitters. flank. Instead he aimed at her prow. As fatal as spikes, her forward guns jutted from their ports-sleek laser tubes, ma.s.sive matter cannon shafts, complex proton emitters.

Somehow Sib had contrived to jump in the right direction. Several heartbeats ahead of him, Nick reached the hull, caught a handgrip. Sib would touch the ship himself no more than five meters away from Nick.

But there weren't any handgrips on the surface ahead of him.

Hit; bounce off; drift away-Back out into the swarm. The ship would glide past him, leaving him in the void.

No. His boots could generate a magnetic field. Any decent suit had that capability: it was essential to EVA survival. His boots could generate a magnetic field. Any decent suit had that capability: it was essential to EVA survival.

He slapped the switch and flipped into a somersault.

When his boots touched metal, they held.

At some point he started breathing again. For what seemed like ages, relief and anoxia left him blind; he couldn't focus his eyes.