She had no immediate job. Boat and station steered themselves. It was a straightforward operation, applying thrust on a line gyroscopically fixed. In this region, nearing apastron, no unusual velocity change was needed to alter orbit radically. Three hours would bring it about. Thereafter, released, the station ought to curve away and fall into the path around the black hole that its builders wanted. This far from the monster mass, the ordinary laws of celestial mechanics kept faith.

Kilbirnie unbuckled, went aft, secured herself on a bunk, and drifted into dreams. Colin stood watch. Perhaps en dozed a little, or the Tahirian equivalent of it; perhaps en was too nervous to rest. It had been long since any of ens race last challenged the universe.

Kilbirnie dreamed of flying. . . .

A yell woke her. She unsnapped her belts and tumbled to her feet. It had come from the outercom speaker. " - danger," Nansen cried. "Respond, Herald! Herald! Danger!" Danger!"

She leaped along the deck and vaulted into her seat. A glance at a clock showed that two hours had passed. Colin huddled beside her, mane erected, a harsh smell around en. "Herald "Herald to to Envoy," Envoy," she said while her hands fastened the safety harness. "What's the trouble?" she said while her hands fastened the safety harness. "What's the trouble?"

Wait. Colin gestured at the instrument displays. She could not interpret them at a glance.

"A giant flare has erupted," Nansen said, now iron-cool. "The leading edge will reach you in about fifteen minutes. Abandon the station and boost the hardest you can."

Clearheaded, more exhilarated than alarmed, she replied with the same levelness, "Not necessarily. We couldn't outrun it in any case. And there are no clots or other special hoodoos, are there? We'll take some readings ourselves and report back."

She turned to her companion. Colin raised ens parleur. "(The spectrum shows an extremely energetic volume of gas, largely plasma. It is attenuating as it advances and spreads. Our screens will deflect the particles, and no more hard photons will penetrate our shielding than may perhaps cause us to take a prophylactic cell treatment at the ship.)"

"(I thought so. We stay.)"

"(As is to be expected, the magnetic field is strong and fluctuant, with transients of high local intensity. I cannot obtain quantitative data. This is a chaotic phenomenon, beyond previous experience.)"

"(We can cope, though. Correct?)"

"(Lacking precise measurements and applicable equations, I cannot offer better than a guess. I think we can remain. I am willing.)"

"(Then we do.)" Again she caressed en.

To Nansen: "We can handle it, and besides, we wouldn't gain much if we fled. Don't fear for us."

Wait.

"If this is your decision," Nansen dragged forth, "I will not pester you."

"Save that for when we're together," Kilbirnie suggested.

Wait.

"Vaya con Dios," said her skipper. said her skipper.

And it was to wait, while the linked spacecraft fought their way toward freedom.

The flare poured over them.

Nothing showed to eyes, nothing crackled in ears or prickled in skin. Viewscreens depicted stars gleaming changeless. Only meters told of the rage seething around. Kilbirnie peered unwinkingly at them. That shifting, twisting magnetism, borne outward in the electric torrent, did pose a threat to her reaction drive. It could divert the plasma stream, even start ruinous waves of resonance. The boat's collimating fields compensated. Should they be overwhelmed, they had a fail-safe. Nevertheless - Abruptly the sky was gone from the screen before her. White flashes blinked and staggered across blackness. Colin recoiled in ens seat. Kilbirnie's hands clenched her chair arms. "What's this?" she heard herself gasp. Unreadable, the pattern fairly screamed urgency. "A warning - frae them, the aliens - ?"

The stars reappeared. She saw needles and numbers go wild. Weight fell to a fraction of what it had been. A synthetic voice stated: "Magnetic flux was at the point of overriding the screen fields and disrupting jet control. Thrust has been stopped. No significant damage has occurred."

The nightmare whirled through her, the jet forced aside, slashing at the lattice of its accelerator, perhaps with a backlash into the hull, a lethal burst of radiation, but air would already have exploded from the wound ... at best, her boat crippled, an object passive in orbit, falling back to swing through the deadly disk while the tides ripped at structure and flesh....

"What has happened?" Nansen called.

"I'd like to know, myself," Kilbirnie rejoined. "Hold on."

She conferred with Colin.

"All right," she said. "It's clear." She described the disaster that had been averted. "The flux has declined. We can resume thrust. We will."

Wait, while breath and blood went in and out.

"You'll cast loose first, of course," Nansen said raggedly. "And - forgive me, I can't teach you your business, but - as nearly as we can tell, the flare is full of magnetic line concentrations. More will probably sweep over you. You'll have to escape by fits and starts."

"That, aye," Kilbirnie conceded. "But no sense in forsaking the station. It's not yet at a point where it can work into any kind of survival orbit. We'll stay with it, tugging when we can, till it's ready."

Wait.

"Abort, I say. Return to us."

"No. We've too bluidy much invested in this. Colin and Herald Herald and I, we can save it." and I, we can save it."

Wait. Kilbirnie began running her new computation. It was elementary; she didn't need help.

"Abort at once," Nansen said. "That is an order."

Kilbirnie sighed. "You're captain where you are. I'm captain here."

Wait. Numbers and graphics arrived. She keyed a command. Weight came back as it had been, like a hand laid upon her.

"I beg you -"

"Don't. Just wish us luck."

Wait. The fire disk waved and wavered.

"Dios santissimo -" Stoicism clamped down. "Proceed, Pilot." -" Stoicism clamped down. "Proceed, Pilot."

"Carry on, my darling."

The minutes moved through the last hour.

An alarm shrilled. The boat shuddered. Weight plummeted anew.

"A magnetic pulse of very high power seriously interfered with plasma collimation before the shutoff could respond," stated the computer. No fear was in its voice. Not being alive, it could not die. "The jet deviated and burned through the sternmost coil. Maximum available thrust has been correspondingly reduced, by twelve percent."

Kilbirnie took her parleur, to make sure Colin understood.

"Now will you abort?" demanded Nansen.

"We'll decide," she answered. "I think not. We're too nigh victory."

She recomputed. "(This adds thrust time,)" she said to her partner. "(In twenty more minutes we can let go, if all goes well, which it may not. What do you think?)"

"(It is a risk,)" the physicist replied. "(I have noticed in the past, from the ship, that flares and the forces they carry reach a peak shortly before they cease. However, in my opinion it is worth continuing.)"

"(Agreed.)" How I wish I had the language to say what this means and what you are, Colin. But maybe I couldn't anyhow. We humans are too often shy about speaking such things. How I wish I had the language to say what this means and what you are, Colin. But maybe I couldn't anyhow. We humans are too often shy about speaking such things. "Skipper, we are not going to quit. We'd leave our hearts behind with the station." "Skipper, we are not going to quit. We'd leave our hearts behind with the station." Tahirians don't exactly have hearts. But they have spirit. Tahirians don't exactly have hearts. But they have spirit. "Please keep quiet. We've work to do." "Please keep quiet. We've work to do."

The injured vessels struggled on together. The flare streamed invisibly around them.

And - "Harroo!" Kilbirnie shouted. The prosaic readouts before her spelled glory. "We've done it!"

She inactivated and retracted the grapnels. A nudge of impulse sent the boat drifting clear of the station. It appeared in her screen, a lumpy globule, now under command of its own computer, retreating against the Milky Way.

"This is - is wonderful," Nansen stammered. "Praise be to God." His tone steadied. "You still have to secure your escape, of course."

"Of course," Kilbirnie caroled. "And drink and dance and be outrageous. Well, that's for back aboard Envoy." Envoy."

The two spacecraft were not yet completely free. They had reached a point where either one, even with a lamed motor, could assume any orbit - essentially, go anywhere. But they must go. go. Their present paths remained cometary. If they did not act, they would fall into the nearness of the black hole and it would wreck them. Their present paths remained cometary. If they did not act, they would fall into the nearness of the black hole and it would wreck them.

The station was boosting. Eventually it could stop and coast into the region where it belonged. Herald Herald should linger until then, in case of further trouble. First, though, should linger until then, in case of further trouble. First, though, Herald Herald had better liberate herself, climbing to a track of much lower eccentricity much higher in the gravity well. had better liberate herself, climbing to a track of much lower eccentricity much higher in the gravity well.

"Gang awa', lassie," the pilot said, and wakened the jet. Weight seized. The boat sprang.

The alarm shrieked. Readings and readouts went crazy. She floated in her harness, falling free, and heard: "An extraordinary magnetic surge has caused the destruction of coils nine through five and the disablement of coil four."

The words tolled away into silence.

"Oh, damn and damn," Kilbirnie said through it. "I'm sorry, Colin."

"What is this?" Nansen called across space. "Your jet, your acceleration -"

"Hold on till I can tell you."

Her fingers, running over the keyboard, and her brain, interpreting what came out, might as well have been machines themselves. She had not yet had time for feelings.

"Bad news," she said flatly. "Our drive is blown. We don't have but a wisp of thrust, not near enough to break loose. If we rejoined the station, it couldn't help, either. We'd simply force it to ruination with us. Whatever we tried, we're bound through the inner part of the disk."

They had already passed apastron and were downward bound.

"No," Nansen pleaded. "Ruszek is ready. He'll come take you off."

"The numbers say he can't reach us till way too late. Wait a minute, darling dearest. I have to talk with my partner."

And presently: "We're agreed. We'll no hae yon thing raddle us wi' radiation and pluck us apart bit by bit. We'll use what's left us to dive straight in."

Kilbirnie swung her boat around and took aim.

"Oh, Jean, Jean."

"Hush. I'm not glad to leave this life, but I'm glad for what it gave me. Fare ye all well, shipmates. I love ye, skipper."

Kilbirnie switched the outercom off. She restarted the motor. The acceleration, the weight, was low and erratic. Yet if a magnetic nexus did not strike Herald Herald again - and, really, that was unlikely - speed would mount. In about an hour she and her friend would pass through the gate of death, too fast to sense it. again - and, really, that was unlikely - speed would mount. In about an hour she and her friend would pass through the gate of death, too fast to sense it.

They joined hands and looked forth at the stars.

The Station took final orbit without requiring further assistance. It began activating its systems, to receive, explore, and relate.

CHAPTER 37.

Nightwatch laid stillness on the corridors of Envoy. Envoy. When Nansen's door chimed, he looked up in surprise. When Nansen's door chimed, he looked up in surprise.

He had dimmed illumination in his cabin to a twilight. A stubby candle, one of a number newly made for him by the nanos, burned on his desk below the old crucifix. He sat gazing at the flame, no longer really seeing, though somehow it was like a small sun around which awareness circled through silence, until the door recalled him.

"Come in," he said. The captain is never free.

For a moment the fluorescence outside dazzled his eyes. He saw the newcomer as a black hole in it. She stepped through, the entrance closed, and the candle cast his shadow vague over Dayan.

She stopped, herself half blinded until vision grew used to the dusk. He rose. "What is the matter?" he asked wearily.

She caught her breath in a gulp. Her words stumbled. "I'm sorry. This is very late. And I knew you'd rather be alone." As often as possible. "But I thought - at this hour we could talk . . . privately."

"Yes, of course. Please be seated." He resumed his chair at the desk and swiveled it around to face hers.

For a while they were mute. She stared down at the hands clenched together in her lap. Finally she got out: "This is ... hard to say, but -" She raised her head toward him and finished in a rush. "Are you planning any kind of service, memorial, anything for Jean? And Colin," she added dutifully.

"No," he replied.

"Some of us ... expected you would."

"My fault. I should have made an announcement."

"We'd like to say good-bye to her."

His flat tone gentled. "I understand. But don't you see, there's too much emotion, too much bitterness - in certain of us. It would be disruptive to meet this soon for that purpose."

She regarded him. With the candle behind, his expression was hard to make out. "Do you truly think so?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I can't read the souls of people. It is my guess. For most of us, me too, a service would be comforting. But I can't very well tell those who look on me as a murderer that they mustn't come."

"Oh, Rico!" She half rose from her seat, reached toward him, and sank back down.

"That is my guess," he repeated. "I could be wrong, but I dare not risk it. Thank you, though, for reminding me. I'll tell them tomorrow, everybody is welcome to ... pray for her, wake her, whatever feels right, ... by themselves, or with their near friends."

"You are mourning alone, aren't you?"