Cleve, John.

s.p.a.ceways.

Corundums Woman.

A: All planets are not shown. B: Map is not to scale, because of the vast distances between stars.

SCARLET HILLS.

Alas, fair ones, my time has come. I must depart your lovely home- Seek the bounds of this galaxy To find what lies beyond.

(chorus).

Scarlet hills and amber skies, Gentlebeings with loving eyes; All these I leave to search for a dream That will cure the wand'rer in me.

You say it must be glamorous For those who travel out through s.p.a.ce. You know not the dark, endless night Nor the solitude we face.

(reprise chorus).

I know not of my journey's end Nor the time nor toll it will have me spend. But I must see what I've never seen And know what I've never known.

Scarlet hills and amber skies, Gentlebeings with loving eyes; All these I leave to search for a dream That will cure the wand'rer in me.

-Ann Morris

1.

We live on an ordinary planet, one of nine that orbit a typical, undistinguished star. And this star, our sun, is just one among billions scattered around our Galaxy.

William J. Kaufmann, Black Holes and Warped s.p.a.cetime s.p.a.ce.

Take a piece of black-something. Steel, iron, cardboard, velvet; no matter. It need only be black, and enormous. It must surround and blot every horizon. There must be no horizon. Curvature or noncurvature do not matter. It must be true black, that overabundance of color and absence of light that produce black, and true black does not show curve or plane. True Black has no shape and no depth-unless perhaps it shows infinite depth?

It is just Blackness.

Now punch as many holes into the Blackness as it will accommodate without overlapping more than a few of the holes. They may vary in size and distance from each other. Now set a light behind the Blackness.

10.You have created a representation of s.p.a.ce. A simulacrum of the galaxy. If the holes are closer together in toward the center, all the better. Stars are cl.u.s.tered thick there, thick as flowers of white and yellow and red and blue in an untrodden meadow.

The pinholes are not pinholes. They are stars. Hundreds of millions of stars. They form a fraction of that part of the universe called the Milky Way galaxy. A ridiculous name! Herakles a.k.a. Hercules, the Greeks claimed, once jerked his infant mouth from his wet nurse's breast with such force that the night sky was spattered with droplets of milk!

Lactose and lactation; ga-lactic and galaxy; milk and the Milky Way. The Greek gala and the Latin lac: both mean "milk."

That is the panorama. That is one galaxy in a universe of galaxies. Now adjust the zoom lens and note that one of the pinholes is not stationary. One of the pinholes is moving. It is not a pinhole or a spot of milk or a star. It is a made Thing, a vessel made by men and women: a craft. It is a ship to sail the limitless ocean of milk-spattered black.

It is a s.p.a.ceship, racing. The men and women now call themselves Galactics. They sail the star-splashed ocean of black and indigo that is the galaxy.

In the s.p.a.ceship are Galactics and they and their created Things have detected another star that is not a star. It is not moving toward them, which would be useless at their velocity. It is racing to intersect their course. It will, too, since its velocity is greater than theirs.

They know interest mingled with some fear which becomes fear and dread. It is too late. Their craft is slow and the other is swift. In the ocean of s.p.a.ce, they are a meandering but tasty fish, stalked by a shark. It races to intersect their course.

It intersects.

Now it is horribly near, in s.p.a.ce, where nothing is close. Its human-created Things grapple the two craft 11.together in the manner of an ancient pirate vessel on, for example, the Caribbean Sea of what was once called "Earth." It is a shark. The two ships are locked together.

Captain Harry Morgan, model for Captain Blood and others, used steel grapnels. They were curved and clawed multiple hooks at the ends of long rope or chain. They bit into wooden hulls and were tugged taut to bring the ships together, and hold them so. That was in the seventeenth century, and that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

Centuries upon centuries later, Captain Corundum uses a directed electromagnetic field called a "tractor field."

The target ship does not stop. It continues rushing through s.p.a.ce. So does its new dark companion, Fire-dancer. The harpooned whale is not dragging the boat; both are whales and one accompanies the other. The velocities are matched, whale and killer whale. No human helmsman or navigator or astrogator on Fire-dancer does this, because none could. A human-created Thing does. It is a Ship Inboard Processing and Computing Unit (Modular) and is called SIPAc.u.m. On Firedancer, it is called "Jinni," a form of djinni or genie. It also aids its captain's voice to travel from his ship into the other, where it crackles crisply in via the comm system of the . . . prey.

"Hail, merchantship. We are grappled to you. You have a choice. Accept us on board, losing your cargo but keeping your lives and your ship, or refuse and resist. In that event we shall not board, for you can prevent that. We will break off-and fire. We will not destroy you. We will cripple you. You will not rush on toward Murph's moon with your load of fine mining equipment and the secret small cargo you also carry. You will wallow, wounded and stripped. You may be discovered and you may not. You may survive and you may not. You may reach Murph and you may not. You may all go mad."

12.All this from Firedancer in a quiet, cultured, eerily polite voice.

"Open your airlock," that voice went on, "to let us board, and you live-along with your ship."

Pause, while the merchantship's crewmembers looked at each other and at their captain. Their view-screen remained blank. There was only the voice.

"If you now expect me to restate what I have said, forget it. It is said. Over to you. Reply."

The merchant captain stared at the viewscreen before him as though it were not blank. He was sweating. His jaw worked and his lips moved. At last words emerged.

"This is-this is piracy!" Winged with indignation, his voice rose high.

A trace of amus.e.m.e.nt rode the calm, quiet voice. "Of course it is."

"We-we will not allow this!"

"You have been advised of your choices. You know there are no others."

"We will not-"

"Stand by!"

At that third voice the merchant captain jerked his head up in anger. The voice was that of his own Ship's Mate!

"We are conferring," the Mate said, and his hand moved past his captain.

"Understood," the quiet calm voice said, politely.

The captain was still sweating. His round, jowly face had gone darker at his Mate's temerity than at the pirate's.

"You-confer! Confer my a.s.s! I am captain of Suyari! I will not yield on my knees to that pirate sc.u.m-or to you, Prith! Now get out of this cabin, sir-you are relieved."

"What's this about a 'small secret cargo'?"

Those words came in a fourth voice, and the captain of merchanter Suyari half-turned to stare, rearing up out of his con-chair.

13."Nothing! The words of a hopeful pirate. What are you doing away from your post?"

Mate and third man looked at each other. The newcomer stayed where he was. The captain fumed. Sweat ran down out of his grease-shiny hair, black as s.p.a.ce. He flipped aside toggles and belt to rise. Once it had seemed certain that the interceptor was a shark, he had strapped on a sidearm. Now he started to draw the slim tube.

The Mate produced his stopper first. "Sir, I relieve you on the grounds of irrational behavior." The snout of the microwave tube was lined up on his captain's chest. "Stoppers," the Galactics called their pistols.

"Because we aren't anxious to die or be set adrift," the other crewmember said.

The captain continued pulling out his stopper. "You flaining bast-"

His Mate squeezed the grip of his own tube and the captain broke off, frozen hi every muscle-stopped. The Mate dropped his weapon into the big worn con-chair and was just able to catch the captain as he began falling.

"Do you concur, Engineer?"

"I concur, Myrzha Prithvi. I'll be fried and flained if I want to die or be set adrift out here by no pirate, with no way to get somewheres else. To h.e.l.l with the cargo. To h.e.l.l with the captain. Tell the sharks to come onboard."

The unconscious captain was loosely seated in the Mate's chair, and Prithvi was kind enough to strap him there. His stopper had been set on Two, which was called Freeze and which was paralysis by direct attack on the nervous system. The One setting would have set the captain to dancing helplessly, Three was called Fry, and killed.

"Stand behind him, Tetsu, and be sure he stays put. Most likely he will be out long enough for them to board, transfer cargo, and leave. But-"

"I understand."

14.Prith settled into the control chair and opened the comm-link to the other ship, including Visual. His screen showed only the restless writhing of cosmic static. Star noise.

"First Mate Prithvi 712-90-4119 of Suyari, acknowledging an act of piracy. We have conferred. Signal when you want the outer lock opened."

"Thank you, Myrzha Prithvi," the quiet, calm voice said. "We shall arrive s.p.a.cesuited and bearing arms. Would you be kind enough to place your own sidearms in the airlock, please? It will be so good for our mental state."

"Uh-agreeable, but they will be drawn out into s.p.a.ce and we could use-"

He waited. There was no reply. He sweated. d.a.m.n the d.a.m.n pirate! At last he spoke.

"Very well. We are a crew of four, with four side-arms and another locked up in the captain's cabin. Be a.s.sured that we are not stupid enough to try using a cutter onboard ship!"

Again he heard the amus.e.m.e.nt in the polite tones of the other man, who continued to refrain from activating his Visual send. "One is glad to hear it, Myrzha Prithvi. Not actuating even a short-beam, laser onboard a s.p.a.cer is a lesson learned by all good farers along the s.p.a.ceways. One of us will bear a cutter. It is not to be used except in emergency, you understand! Place your arms in the airlock and be certain that the inner lock is secured. Open outer port once you have accomplished that. Two-plus-two taps means close outer port. One more signals you to open. Three of us are now leaving ship. Evil pirate out."

"Evil pirate!" Tetsu repeated incredulously, while Prithvi shut off and sank back with a sigh. d.a.m.ned fancy-talking polite pirate! He looked over and up at Tetsu. The captain continued inert. Prithvi sighed again and opened internal comm.

"Suki? Meet me at the airlock. SIPAc.u.m and the shark have everything in control. They're boarding.

15.We are going to be very very still and polite. If they want your earrings, pa.s.s 'em over. Better than losing your lobes!"

He b.u.t.toned off and waited a moment for a reply that did not come. He rose. A glance told him that the console was placid. All systems were stable. Locked together, pirate and merchanter plunged on, oncourse for Murph and its fourth moon. Prithvi looked at Tetsu.

"We're in trouble, of course," he said, holding out his hand. "Doubly."

Tetsu placed his stopper in the other man's palm, cold blue cylinder on warm beige skin.

"Horrible thing to say, but-better we set that thing on Fry and used it again." He jerked his hairless head at the captain. "Once we reach port we'll just tell 'em the pirate done it."

Still again Prithvi sighed. "We can't. I know it and so do you. Everything we've said has been recorded. We'll have to take our chances." His smile was pallid. "Maybe he'll decide it's smarter not to press charges, once he thinks it over-and accesses that part of the record."

"You believe that?"

Prithvi shrugged. "We'll be alive."

"Either way, we're through. Even if he decides to let it go, we can't stay on Suyari. And he won't be giving us any gold stars!"

"We'll be alive," the lean Prith said, and left the con-cabin.

Suzuki, big in shapeless gray coveralls, apparent-age forty, Indian blood evident amid the Oriental, waited at the airlock. She looked at him and the three stoppers he bore. She proffered hers.

He opened the airlock, explaining. They put the four cylindrical pistols inside, closed the lock, double-checked. And b.u.t.toned to open the outer hatch. They heard it. They waited. Ship's aircon was working fine, but both of them sweated just the same.

16."You bring any secret cargo onboard, Suki?"

She shook her head.

"This shark talks like an edutape and thinks we haul contraband."

She shook her head. "Captain Ota, maybe. I know he's run contraband before. We'll have that evidence anyhow, won't we-I mean, we're in trouble."

"What would you have done?"

"Approved your action on the spot. I'd not have been able to do it, though. But I concur, First Mate." She had no more epicanthic fold than he, and not quite as much nose.

He touched her shoulder, which was less bony than his. "We'll be all right, Suki."

"Sure."

Both of them jumped at the sound of clanks in the airlock. They waited. They jumped again at the rap-rap, rap-rap on the other side of the hatch. Prithvi swallowed. He pulled a lever, turned a wheel, pushed up a toggle. They heard the closing of the outer hatch and automatic pressurizing of the airlock. Now it had the ominous hollow sound of a dungeon door.

Thump!

Prithvi set the inner hatch to open and stepped well back. He kept his hands in plain sight. His and Suzuki's big weapons belts and empty holsters were pathetically obvious. Nervously, they stared at the hatch.

The hatch opened. The three pirates entered Suyari. Their s.p.a.cesuits made them even more menacing, despite the fact that any s.p.a.cefarer was used to them. Strange that these were one each white, pastel blue, and yellow! Prith might have expected pirates to wear black s.p.a.cesuits.

(Sure, he thought, and if one slipped or something happened out there, they'd be next to invisible in s.p.a.ce! Of course they don't wear black suits, dummy, with or without a skull-and-bones insignia!) Considerably more disconcerting was that these 17.boarders were faceless, even eyeless. All three suits had opaqued viewports.