"One sethturn left," Star-Glider whispered. "Just 12 blinks ... 8 .. .7 ... 6 ... 5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ..." A gong rang out and the tally remained tied at 114Yes and 114No.

"A tie tally is no tally," the tally counter announced.

"We've won!" shouted Star-Glider's image so loudly that Cliff-Web felt his tread tingle. "Pack your pouches. I'll see you at the East Pole s.p.a.cecraft a.s.sembly Plant."

"Won?" Cliff-Web said. "They haven't even started to take a tally on the appropriation. How can we have won?"

"Considering how easy it is on the brain-knot of a legislator to postpone things, that last tally was an overwhelming victory. Take my word, when they finally do get around to voting on the appropriations scroll, it will be 3 to 1 in our favor."

But Star-Glider was wrong. With the leader of the fourth s.e.xtant pressing for a tread tally, the vote was unanimous.

Cliff-Web turned off the holovid and returned to his gardening. It wouldn't do to leave the border unfinished, and he needed the little bit of peaceful relaxation that came from working the soft crumbled crust with his manipulators before he went off to take personal charge of one of the larger engineering projects his company was undertaking.

The gardening finished, he returned to his quarters and started to stuff his pouches with the things he would need during his long trip away from the compound.

"Moving-Sand!" he called. "Where are my engineering badges and body paint? There's bound to be some formal ceremonies and I will have to wear them."

"They are still in your travel bag," said Moving-Sand, bringing the bag to him. "You never unpacked from the last trip. I took out a bunch of dirty wipers that had so much dirt and food stains on them you could use them for compost. There are clean rolls of wipers and some glow-jewels in the lower left hole of your dressing wall."

"Just put the wipers in the bag," said Cliff-Web. 'The glow-jewels can stay. This is a job, not a party."

"Youwill take the glow-jewels," Moving-Sand insisted. "You'll be visiting the s.p.a.ce stations and Topside Platform.You may not think much of yourself, but you're a celebrity to those people. There will be receptions, and you should look like the owner of one of the largest private companies on Egg."

Moving-Sand pulled the radioactive jewels made of neutron-fat uranium crystals out of the hole in the dressing wall. He gave them to Cliff-Web, who watched the jewels for a while as they sparkled with gamma-ray emission from the spontaneously fissioning uranium nuclei, then tucked them into his travel bag. He opened a pouch in his side and tucked the travel bag away in his body. He would have to take it out again when he took the Jump Loop transport. They only allowed a small amount of pouched baggage in the main cabin of the jumpcraft.

He went to his study, pouched a few instruments and technical scrolls, then gave his robotic office secretary instructions for handling messages. La.s.sie, having seen her master leave many times before, moved slowly from her resting pad and came over to have him pat her on the eye-stubs. As Cliff-Web patted the balding Slink, he made soft electronic whispering noises to her, while at the same time talking to Moving-Sand with his undertread.

"It will be at least a half-great before I can take time away from the project to come back for a visit," he said. "It could be that La.s.sie will die while I'm gone."

"I'll take care of her," Moving-Sand promised. "The rest of the Slinks will be glad to have something besides Flow-Slow meat in their meat-bins."

"Don't feed her to the Slinks," said Cliff-Web. "She has been my faithful Slink since engineering school. I will eat her myself."

"I can't understand you!" Moving-Sand sounded disgusted. "Here you are rich enough to eat prime cheela steaks every day and now you tell me you want to suck old, stringy Slink meat."

"I do," said Cliff-Web. "But perhaps you're right about it being old. Better make ground meat out of the tougher cuts." He gave La.s.sie one last pat, picked up his mascot plant Pretty-Web, and flowed out the door, through the courtyard, and out to the street where a robotic glide-car was waiting to take him to the Jump Loop.

He slid onto the waiting plate of thick metal between the front shield and the rear power unit, and the transparent superconducting sh.e.l.l closed over him. The glide-car rose a few microns and sped down the street, riding on the traveling ripples of magnetic field that it generated in its base plate.

The pa.s.senger terminal for the Jump Loop was on the outskirts of Bright, not far from the ruins of the ancient Holy Temple. There was some restoration work going on there, and Cliff-Web could see the large crust-moving machines working on an eye-mound. The job was one of the few that Web Construction had lost. He and his engineers were used to high-technology jobs and always ended up losing on price for crust-moving projects. The glide-car came to a halt, and Cliff-Web inserted his magnecard in the slot. The glide-car subtracted 8 stars and 64 greths and released him from his temporary transparent prison.

The terminal was in a tough part of town, so he moved quickly across the street toward the door marked IN. Just as he activated the automatic door with his tread, a small youngling burst through the opening going the wrong way. He was filthy and his decorationless hide had more scars than most soldiers. Holding the door open with his tread, he jabbed a sharp metal p.r.i.c.ker at Cliff-Web, who rapidly reversed his tread ripple.

"That's right, you fat egg-sucker. Move back and you won't get hurt." He looked back through the door.

"Crumpled-Tread ... Speckle-Top ... Move it!" he hollered. "The Clankers are right behind you!" Two more street urchins burst through the door; they were even smaller than the gang leader. The littlest one had some costume jewelry and an embroidered wiper she had obviously stolen. She was no more than a hatchling, and Cliff-Web could look down on her topside to see that "Speckle-Top" was indeed covered with spots of different emittance than the rest of her body. The speckled pattern extended to her eyes, some of which were pink instead of the normal dark red.

Crumpled-Tread gave the gang leader one of the two travel bags he had s.n.a.t.c.hed, and the three street urchins took off in opposite directions. Cliff-Web heard a banging on the closing automatic door and stepped on the activator mat to open the door and let the Public Peace Officer out. Her twelve eyes took everything in at a glance, and she took off after the gang leader, who was still trying to stuff a heavy travel bag in a pouch. Cliff-Web watched her go, but it was obvious that the officer, weighed down with her weapons, badges, and communicator, was not likely to catch the fleet youngling.

Cliff-Web had been appalled by the size of the smallest thief. In his clan hatchery, a hatchling this size would still be playing with the Old Ones, hearing the ancient stories of the clan heroes and their exploits.

The little one must be what the social workers called a "dump hatchling." Its mother was probably a clanless prost.i.tute who left her egg at the local dump. If the egg wasn't eaten by scavengers, the little hatchling had a reasonable chance of living, since newly hatched cheela could feed themselves and there was plenty of food at the dump. Older hatchlings would take the dump hatchlings under their mantle and then teach them to steal for them.

Just thinking of the poor, unprotected hatchling with its ugly speckled top brought a surge of protective emotion through Cliff-Web's body. He wanted to find that poor hatchling, throw his protective mantle over the ugly scarred body, and feed her, and love her. He wanted....

Cliff-Web shook himself and drove back the feeling. He couldn't allow his hormones to turn him into an Old One yet. He had a job to do. He flowed through the door and entered the terminal, all business. He found the gate and went through, his magnecard confirming his reservation for the launch. Since the jump-fare was a major expenditure, they had a tread-reader at the gate that verified he was the true owner of the card.

As he glided onto the long, slender vehicle, an attendant a.s.sisted him in depouching his travel bag. Now significantly thinner, he made his way up the narrow aisle and slid sideways into his slot. He raised the panel that would keep his body from slipping out into the aisle during acceleration, pulled out a scroll, and started reading it the hard way in the cramped quarters. He scanned a small portion while he used his tendrils to unroll one end while he rolled up the other.

The jumpcraft left on time, and he put away the scroll to watch as the clear superconducting shields moved up to enclose the compartments. The vehicle slid down a chute to the start of the Jump Loop proper. The Jump Loop looked like a flattened pipe that traveled along the crust for a while, then slowly raised itself up off the crust into the sky in seeming defiance of the tremendous gravity of Egg. Cliff-Web's aisle mate was a youngling that looked as if he had just left the Combined Clans Engineering Academy in Bright. He was wearing his engineering badges, and they looked newly made.

"Sure looks impossible, doesn't it," said the youngling.

"As if it might fall down," Cliff-Web responded.

"Don't worry," the youngling rea.s.sured him. "Everything is perfectly safe. You see, what is holding it up is what you can't see, the super-high-speed band traveling inside the pipe. There is a big underground electromagnetic linear motor in a tunnel to the east of here that is pushing the belt up to high speed and feeding it into the pipe."

They felt a b.u.mp as the nose of the vehicle started to tip up and they were pushed to the back of their slots.

"We just pa.s.sed over the bending magnet that deflected the belt upward," the youngling engineer explained. "The belt is traveling at nearly a quarter of the speed of light and would go into orbit if it didn't have to carry the weight of the pipe."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes," said the engineer. "But don't worry, we're not going into s.p.a.ce. The pipe rides on the moving belt using superconducting guides and soon bends the belt over so it is traveling above the surface of Egg.

Here we go. Feel the ac- celeration as the vehicle magnegrips start to couple to the belt?"

They sank even deeper into their slots as the vehicle started to climb up along the pipe on two tracks of superconducting glide-ways while extracting energy from the highspeed belt inside the pipe. They built up speed, flattened out at 10 meters and moved swiftly down the 2 kilometer long pipe. To their left was an identical pipe carrying the belt on its return journey to the terminal they just left. A sliver shot by on the left track, glowing slightly at the nose.

"That's an orbital jumpcraft returning from s.p.a.ce," said the young engineer. "The real problem with the jumpcraft is slowing down enough to land. Unlike Earth, the atmosphere on Egg is too thin for aerobraking. Magnetic drag won't work either. It will just melt the jumpcraft. To slow down, they glide along the pipe and put the vehicle energy into the belt. We will take some of that energy back when we leave. Since we don't need to accelerate that much, we will probably transfer to the eastward belt at the half-way station."

At the one kilometer point, a switch in the guide-ways sent them in a small loop that turned them to the east. Cliff-Web, having ridden the Jump Loop many times, was able to feel the tiny increase in gravity on his body as the gravity-field generators built into the base of the vehicle were activated. The magnegrips grabbed the belt, and they started accelerating.

"They're supposed to turn on the gravity first!" the engineer explained, his eye-stubs twitching nervously.

"When we leave the end of the loop and fly off, we're in free fall. The gravity has to be on or we'll blow up!"

"I'm sure the pilot is taking care of things. I understand the gravity generators are quite expensive to operate so he is probably waiting until the last blink." The vehicle flew off the end of the pipe at a quarter of the speed of light, and they both expanded vertically as the gravity dropped to a mere million gees.

"Doesn't feel like much, does it?" The youngling was obviously relieved. "But it's enough to keep our electrons from going into orbits around our nuclei and causing our nuclear molecules to break up."

The sub-orbital flight one-quarter of the way around Egg only took them two methturns at their near-relativistic veloc- ity. But during that time Cliff-Web heard all about the youngling's new job working on the Jumbo Bagel.

"This will be the biggest inertia drive engine ever built, and probably the biggest that willever be built. But Web Construction is the biggest construction company on Egg, and they are big enough to do it. I was sure lucky to get my first job with them. They treat their engineers right if they work hard, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm a.s.signed to the team that will build the launch cradles for the engine segments. Those are the...."

"I think we are coming to Swift's Climb," said Cliff-Web.

The young engineer looked ahead. "The Jump Loop here is shorter than the one at Bright's Heaven," he said. "They only used it for sub-orbital flights. The one at Bright's Heaven can accelerate vehicles up to half the speed of light, more than enough for escape from Egg."

The pilot was using thrusters as he lined up the vehicle with the two long streaks hovering above the crust. Swift's Climb was a blotch in the background with a rectangular street grid that turned random as the city slowly climbed the foothills of the East Pole mountains to the resort areas hidden in the upper valleys. High above them loomed the s.p.a.ce Fountain, a metallic streak that disappeared into the sky many kilometers overhead.

"That's another project my company is working on," said the engineer. "Isn't it amazing? It's sort of a vertical jump loop, but it uses a stream of rings instead of a belt."

They decelerated down to ground speeds as the vehicle coasted to a halt inside the terminal. The young engineer was already out in the aisle, pushing his way to the travel bag bin. Cliff-Web followed behind, taking his cleft-wort plant out of his pouch and letting it cool off to the sky.

The youngling looked at the plant with interest. "That plant looks just like the one that Web Construction uses on its signs," he said. "Well, it was nice talking to you. What will you be doing in Swift's Climb?"

"Oh, I'll be working on the Jumbo Bagel, too," said Cliff-Web.

"You will? What division are you in? Launch Cradle?"

"No. I take care of long-range planning and finance."

"Oh. Well, I guess someone has to do the scrollwork. But the real fun is in the engineering. Eye you some turn," he said as he pushed his way off through the strong vertical magnetic field that permeated Swift's Climb.

Cliff-Web felt old as he flowed into the rear slot of the chauffeur-driven company car that was waiting for him in the street.

"Administration Compound," he told the driver. "Wait! I've changed my mind. Take me to the s.p.a.cecraft a.s.sembly Plant. The scrollwork can wait."

While the glide-car was making its way through traffic to the plant on the outskirts of Swift's Climb, Cliff-Web made a call through the mobile communicator to Star-Glider at the Combined Clans s.p.a.ce Center, "I've pushed the contract through the bureaucracy at Bright's Heaven and the s.p.a.ce Center,"

Star-Glider reported. "It is ready for your tread-print. Where shall I bring it? I want to get started."

"We've already started. Why don't you meet me at the a.s.sembly plant? I want to see the mock-up before they tear it down to make room for the real thing."

The Web Construction s.p.a.cecraft a.s.sembly Plant was right on the launch base grounds not far from the s.p.a.ce Center headquarters building, so Star-Glider was there before Cliff-Web arrived.

"Have a nice jump?" Star-Glider asked politely.

Cliff-Web paused. "It was ... interesting," he finally said. "Let's go see the mock-up."

The scaffolding surrounding the mock-up could be seen in the distance. They entered through the security gate, then a small glide-car took them on a tour around the giant circular structure.

"I had the engineers do a full-scale ma.s.s model on the mock-up so that we could get the stress scaffolding built correctly. Although the engine will operate in s.p.a.ce, we have to a.s.semble and stress it on Egg so that we know it can withstand the operating stresses when we turn it on in s.p.a.ce."

Star-Glider looked up to see a cheela gliding across a narrow beam high above him as easily as if she were on the crust.

"How high up is she?" Star-Glider asked.

"The thickness of the engine is 48 millimeters," Cliff-Web told him. "So the top of the scaffolding must be about 60 millimeters."

"I don't mind looking down from orbit," said Star-Glider. "But I would never have the nerve to try that."

"Few cheela do. We find the best ones are from the White Rock Clan. They spend most of their hatchling time playing around steep cliffs."

The glide-car stopped near a break in the structure. One segment of the mock-up had been pulled aside.

"The engine will be built in twelve segments," said Cliff-Web. "After stress testing, the segments will be launched separately and rea.s.sembled in s.p.a.ce."

The glide-car moved through the gap in the doughnut-shaped engine and they could see the complex of energy extractors, stress negators, and vortex generators that would manipulate the vacuum itself and extract energy from it, then use that energy to give inertia to the vacuum so that it could be used as reaction ma.s.s for the thraster to push against.

The glide-car stopped near the scaffold elevator, and they took it up to the top viewing platform. Their bodies safely protected behind barriers, they looked down at the 144-millimeter diameter "bagel" with a bite taken out of it.

"In a great of turns the mock-up will be replaced with the real thing," Cliff-Web told him.

"Let's get that contract signed and get going," said Star-Glider. "The gravity tides are starting to cause noticeable distortions in Dragon Slayer."

The fabrication of the twelve segments of the Jumbo Bagel was finished on time, but the stress test brought out a flaw in the design. A power connector failed when the superconducting shield was activated.

"There are 144 connectors in each segment, and there are twelve segments," said Cliff-Web. "The rework will take a minimum of 12 cheela-greats and put us 24 turns behind schedule."

"I'll go to the Budget Sub-Group of the legislature and ask for an increase in funds," Star-Glider promised. "I warned them this kind of thing could happen if they delayed on the start. How much do you need?"

"Nothing," Cliff-Web replied. "I'll pay the difference out of my own pouch. Just explain to them why we will be late."

A half a great later the last of the segments were loaded into the spherically shaped launch cradles that were half scaffolding and half s.p.a.cecraft. The sphere was hauled to the middle of an open field and placed into a depression at the center. Buried under the ground was a gravity catapult that first levitated the sphere about 100 millimeters above the crust so the inertia drive engines could be activated. Then, engines thrusting, the sphere was tossed into s.p.a.ce by a short burst of gravitational repulsion from the gigantic coils buried in the ground.

"Prom zero to one-third the speed of light in a blink," Cliff-Web remarked "yet because gravity forces were used, there were hardly any stresses."

"Amazing for a machine that old," Star-Glider said. "Well, shall we follow it up?"

"I want to inspect the progress on the s.p.a.ce Fountain first," said Cliff-Web. "I'll see you at the East Pole s.p.a.ce Station."

Admiral Star-Glider took advantage of the launch of a newly commissioned scout ship to experience being catapulted into s.p.a.ce. The gravity catapult wasn't used for ordinary travel anymore since it cost so much to operate. Cliff-Web checked out the work on the s.p.a.ce Fountain, jumped back to Bright's Heaven, spent a few turns gardening and playing with his pets, then it was back to the Jump Loop for a long jump up to the East Pole s.p.a.ce Station. He and Star-Glider went out on a small cruiser to inspect the installation of the Jumbo Bagel on a converted cargo carrier. They got there just as the last segment was put into place.

"In a few turns my job will be done and yours will start," Cliff-Web said.

"Good," Star-Glider said. "We're just in time. We have started to see some damage in Dragon Slayer's pressure hull, but it is still intact. The humans have abandoned the communications console and are retreating into the protection tanks."

06:54:00 GMT TUESDAY 21 JUNE 2050.

The gravity tugs were getting worse. A metal drinking flask broke loose in the galley and came shooting up the pa.s.sageway from the deck below. It flashed by Amalita and headed for one of the science electronics consoles set in the outer wall of the main deck between the portholes. The drinking flask smashed into one of the k.n.o.bs on the console, and soon there were three missiles shooting back and forth around the main deck-a dented metal bulb and two sharp plastic k.n.o.b halves.

"That does it," Pierre declared. "It's too dangerous out here. Let's get into the tanks!"

"But once we're in the tanks, there's nothing we can do to save the ship," argued Amalita, hanging onto a stanchion. Cesar didn't argue with Pierre and soon was shutting his hatch door.

Pierre pointed at the outer wall of Dragon Slayer, which was twisting noticeably under the extreme gravitational forces.

"Once the pressure hull goes, those tanks will be the only thing that will keep us alive," he replied. "In you go." He opened the hatch to her tank and held it open for her.

Reluctantly, she opened the locker door beneath the hatch, took out the breathing mask, and put it on.

Just then the metal drinking flask came flying in toward them. Amalita fielded it on the fly, tucked it inside the locker, latched the door shut, and climbed quickly into the tank, adjusting her mask as she did so.