Sitting up, spilling blankets off him, Eduin Brower banged his fist on the deck. "Are you crazy, skipper? You-"
"I'm sorry, Eduin." The way Delarov said it, Lisele wondered what might be between those two. "But you know as well as I do that Mei or I could handle any communications need that might arise. Especially since you've just checked all the circuitry."
Standing now, Brower roared, "It ain't me I'm talking about, you spear-fishing squaw! It's the kid. All right, so you and Lu-teng have the experience, all that damn training. But the kid's a pilot, dammit!"
"But I thought-" For a moment, Lisele was too surprised for speech. "When the Drive blew, you said-"
His hand swiped at her words. "Aah, that was just me, scared spitless and shooting off my face. Didn't mean nothing by it. And ain't nobody else on here could've pulled us out of that death trap, at all."
Delarov stared. "Eduin, you squaw-chasing old renegade, you do have a point. I think I'll go along with it." And before Lisele could speak, "Don't argue, Moray. Brower and Lu-teng go to freeze. You stay up, and work."
Well, that's what she d wanted but hadn't dared hope for. Trying to keep her breathing compatible with the alpha-wave state, Lisele nodded. "Whatever you say, skipper."
" The others left, but one thing nagged at Lisele. The way a sling turn works. . .
She checked it out. Tearing free from the incalculable mass of the anomaly, on a course at right angles from Earth, March Hare had gained so much distance and velocity that no turn toward human space could bring the ship anywhere near that gravitational vortex.
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Well, she'd thought as much, but it never hurts to be sure. Satisfied, she logged the data.
VII
Briefly, early in the next ship's-day, the remaining seven persons met in Control. All screens indicated relatively clear space; of the stellar objects visible, only two were within March Hare's current range. At forty-five percent of redline max accel, the Drive mumbled steadily.
"We have a better fix on Goal Star now," said the captain. "Mei pegs it at a little over five months away, ship's time. So that's how long it will be for the three of us, until we see four of you again. Eduin, Darwin, Mei, young Limmer- you won't experience that time, of course. But we'll be missing you-as well as the others, already in freeze." She blinked twice: tears, Lisele wondered? "Well, let's say our temporary goodbyes, and then Mei will tuck you all in nicely."
"Who tucks her in?" Arlen's lower lip protruded, Lisele decided, in a definite pout. "And who wakes us up?"
Lu-teng smiled. "I'll put myself away, of course. Necessarily, the units are designed to make that possible. And I suppose Captain Delarov will rouse us. That part's much easier, though it takes longer. But anybody who can read the instructions can do revivals safely."
The goodbyes, then. Arlen looked so forlorn that Lisele put more into her kiss than she really felt. For a moment she thought he was going to make some kind of embarrassing, last-minute request, but he didn't.
The captain's embrace with Eduin Brower didn't surprise Lisele as much as it would have a day earlier; she herself received a rib-creaking hug from the man and returned it with equal zest. Releasing her, he grinned. "Don't let this tub fall into anything, youngster." She assured him she wouldn't.
Stiffly, trying to hide his obvious resentment but not quite succeeding, Darwin Pope shook hands all around and spoke polite words. Showing definite concern and not gloating
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at all, deWayne Houk said, "It ought to be you up, Dar, not me. But the captain decided."
"I know." Turning to Katmai Delarov, Pope shook her hand also. "I'm sure you had good reasons, and of course they are your own business. But it bothers me, not to know in what way I failed to measure up."
She put both hands to his one, and squeezed. "No such thing, Darwin. It's only that-" She shook her head. "A hunch, I guess. I've never faulted your work, your skills or knowledge. But I have the feeling that Chief Houk is a better improvisor, and in a fix like this, ad-libbing might be exactly what we need."
His scowl, now, showed only puzzlement. Then it cleared. "Yes, I see. I do tend to go by the book, don't I?"
Mei Lu-teng gave Lisele a handshake, then a light embrace. "I don't have to ask why you're needed more than I am. My father never played tag with UET ships and left records of his maneuvers in a computer log, for me to study. That unbelievable gravity pit-I'd never have gotten us free of it."
Speaking honestly, Lisele said, "It took some luck, too."
Lu-teng chuckled. "Yes. Luck that we had you aboard."
It all seemed to be mostly over with, and Lisele hoped so, because her breakfast wasn't sitting too well and she felt a bit feverish. Probably the radiation drugs getting their licks in, so she could expect to feel a lot worse soon, and not really good again for at least forty-eight hours. Anyway, the First Hat and Captain Delarov had a rather tearful farewell; then the four left for freeze and deWayne Houk went down to the Drive room.
From that location he reported that within its present limitations, the Nielson Cube was performing steadily.
Delarov acknowledged. Then, to Lisele she said, "Moray? I think we'd better take a leaf out of Eduin's book and do most of our sleeping here in Control. Save a lot of time running upship and down, two levels at a crack."
"Two? My quarters are down four."
"No; as Acting First Hat, move your things to the officers' deck. Any cabin you prefer." Which meant she had the choice of Mei Lu-teng's digs, or Anders Kobolak's, or Arlen Limmer's. None of the alternatives pleased her. But it made no sense to have her duffel two levels farther down than need be, so she said, I'll move into Arlen's place. It
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won't be quite as much like intruding; we've been friends since forever."
"Friends? Is that all? I'd thought-"
It was none of Delarov's business, of course, but Lisele said, "He's ready for more; that's true. I'm not, yet."
The captain smiled. "I see. And I suppose you're wondering about Eduin and myself."
"Not since yesterday, I'm not. Except-"
Now Delarov gave a soft laugh. "I know. He's older by a lot, he's messy, and he enjoys being taken for a slob. But if you ever find as tender a man, Moray, hang onto him."
Lisele thought she understood. But now her breakfast was behaving even worse than it had earlier. So before she could spoil things by throwing up all over her pilot's console, she said, "I'll remember the advice; thanks," and bolted for the latrine cubby.
The next two days, whether she lay trying to sleep or forced herself through a semblance of standing watch, were the most agonizing Lisele had ever experienced. Slogging across the swamps on Shaarbant, with everyone on the verge of heat stroke-compared to this, Shaarbant had been a picnic. She ached all over: head and body, bones and muscles and organs, all throbbing to create agony. When, on top of everything else, her gut convulsed in nausea, she came close to passing out.
So when she woke in her new quarters for the second time, painfully dehydrated but with nausea and fever gone, and could sit up without dizziness, she figured the worst was over.
She pushed her hair back from her eyes, and the action felt odd. Looking, she saw that quite a lot of hair had come free in her hand, and then that considerably more lay tangled on the pillow. Her moment of panic passed quickly, because she knew what had happened.
If radiation dosage were heavy enough, this was one effect the drugs couldn't counter. Her general feeling of health assured her that the really bad stuff had been counteracted. So first she drank nearly a liter of reconstituted fruit juice, to quench the fires in her stomach. Then with a brush she cleared the remaining loosened hair from head and person, and dumped the lot into a wastebasket. After that, she had a shower.
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Looking in the mirror as she dried herself, Lisele wasn't too happy with what she saw. She'd worn bare scalp before- well, close-clipped enough to feel like sandpaper-when that was the only way to cope with the itchy, sticky mud of Shaarbant's swamps. This time, with roots and all discarded, not even a shadow indicated the boundary between face and scalp; totally smooth, her skin was. Irritated, though; taking her time about it she rubbed herself with lotion, and welcomed the soothing effect.
At the mirror again, she decided the lack of eyebrows was the worst part. Until now she hadn't realized how important they were in defining expression; her face had a blank look to it. Hmmm; no problem there. With cosmetic pencil she drew in brows as near her natural look as she could manage. Yes, much better.
Anyway, from all accounts the condition wasn't permanent, though she had no idea how long it might last.