David Brin - Infinity's Shore

Gillian nodded. “Well, things are a little better. And a trick or two to make the odds better still.”

The dolphins snickered knowingly and went back to work, emanating confident clicks. Gillian’s last remark was exactly the sort of thing Tom would have said in a situation like this.

In fact, though, Gillian did not know if her scheme was even worthy of the name.

Sara

THEY SAID THAT A PSI-WAVE HAD COME FROM JIJO, but Sara didn’t feel a thing.

Not surprising. Of Melina’s three children, it always seemed that Dwer had some fey sensitivity, while she, the logical one, possessed none. Till recently, Sara had little interest in such matters.

But then she wondered. Might this be what Purofsky said we should look out for?

Sitting at the stateroom’s worktable, Sara addressed the portable computer.

“About that psi-wave — do we have a fix on its hypervelocity?”

“Only a rough estimate. It traveled at approximately two mictaars per midura.”

Sara tried to work out the timing in her head, translating it in terms she knew better, such as light-years. Then she realized the machine could do it for her graphically.

“Show me.”

A holo took shape, portraying her homeworld as a blue dot in the lower left quadrant. Streaker was a yellow glimmer to the upper right, accompanied by other members of decoy swarm number two. Meanwhile a crimson convoy — the Jophur ship and its reclaimed captives — resumed hot pursuit.

The computer put down an overlay, depicting a crosshatching of lines that Sara knew to be wave vectors in level-zero hyperspace. The math was simple enough, but it took her some time to figure out the rich, three-dimensional representation. Then she whistled.

“That’s not inverse square. It’s not even one-over-R. It was directional!”

“A well-conserved, directional wave packet, resonating on the first, third, and eighth bands of—”

The computer lapsed into psi-jargon that Sara could not follow. For her, it was enough to see that the packet was aimed. Its peak had passed right over both Streaker and its pursuer.

The coincidence beggared belief. It meant that some great power on Jijo had known precisely where both ships were, and—

Sara stopped herself.

Don’t leap to the first conclusion that comes to mind. What if we weren’t the beam’s objective at all?

What if we just happened to be along its path, between Jijo and …

She leaped to her feet.

“Show me Izmunuti and the transfer point!”

The display changed scale, expanding until Streaker was shown just over halfway to the supposed safety of the fiery red giant.

And beyond it, a folded place. A twist in reality’s fabric. A spot where you go, if you want to suddenly be very far away.

Although computer graphics were needed to make it out clearly, the transfer point was no invisible nonentity. Izmunuti bulged in its direction, sending ocher streamers toward the dimple in space.

“When will the psi-wave reach Izmunuti?”

“It has already arrived.”

Sara swallowed hard.

“Then show me estimated …” She dredged memory for words she had read, but seldom used. “Show me likely hyperdeflection curves, as the psi-wave hits the red giant. Emphasize meta-stable regions of … um, inverted energy storage, with potential for … uh, stimulated emission on those bands you were talking about.”

Sara’s face flickered as manicolored lines and curves reflected off her forehead and cheekbones.

Her eyes widened, briefly showing white all the way around the irises. She mouthed a single word, without managing to form a voice.

Then Sara clutched for a nearby pad of paper — no better than the premium stock her own father produced — and scrawled down two lines of coordinates.

Gillian Baskin answered her urgent call, though the older woman looked harassed and a little irked.

“Sage Koolhan, I really don’t have time—”

“Oh yes you do,” Sara told her sternly. “Meet me in your office in forty duras. You are definitely gonna want to hear this!”

Rety

A YOUNG WOMAN SAT IN A LOCKED ROOM, ALL alone in her universe, until someone knocked.

In fact she was not entirely alone — yee was with her. Moreover, the knock wasn’t at the door, but rapped loudly on the window below her feet. Still, the element of eerie surprise was there. Rety jumped back, scurrying away from the sound, which grew louder with each hammerlike stroke.

“it comes from over here!” yee wailed, pointing with his long neck.

Rety saw at once the pane he meant. A silhouetted figure squatted below the window, backlit by the golden haze surrounding her useless ship. The figure was distorted, distended, with a grossly bulbous head. An arm turned, holding a blunt object, and swung forward, striking the crystal once again.

This time, tiny cracks spread from the point of impact.

“enemy foe coming in!”

Visions of space monsters filled Rety, but not with fear. She wasn’t about to give up her domain to some invader — Jophur, robot, or whatever.

Another blow struck the same spot. Clearly it would take several more for the assailant to seriously damage the window. Emboldened to see what she was up against, Rety scooted toward the shadowy figure. After the next impact, she pressed close to the glass and peered outside.

Things were blurry at first. Then the creature seemed to notice her presence and leaned forward as well. Rety glimpsed what looked like a billowing dome of clear fabric. A makeshift helmet, she realized.

And within that protective bubble…

“Yah!” she cried out, twitching reflexively away, more set back than if she’d seen a monster or ghost.

When Rety went back for another look, the figure on the other side started making frantic gestures, pointing toward the side of the ship.

“Oh, yeah,” she sighed. “I did lock the airlock, didn’t I?”

Rety nodded vigorously so the visitor could see, and started scurrying along the canted walls to reach the jimmied door. Rety removed the pry bar she had slipped in place, to keep Chuchki from returning.

The airlock cycled slowly, giving Rety time to wonder if her eyes had deceived her. Perhaps this was just a ruse from some mind-reading creature, seeking to gain entrance by sifting her brain for images from her past.…

The inner door opened at last, and Dwer Koolhan tumbled through, tearing at the balloonlike covering he had been using as a crude life-support system. His face was rather blue by the time Rety helped him cut the taped fastenings, scavenged from material found on other decoy vessels during his long journey down the captive string. The young hunter gasped deep breaths while Rety stepped back and stared. Finally, he recovered enough to roll aside, lifting his head to meet her unbelieving gaze.

“I … should’ve known … it’d be you,” Dwer murmured in a resigned voice.

At the exact same moment, Rety muttered:

“Ifni! Ain’t I ever gonna be rid o’ you?”

Ewasx

HE MUST WEIGH TRADE-OFFS AND OPTIONS. As Izmunuti commences to roil with an atmospheric storm, our tactics stack declares that we have lost valuable time.

Three target swarms flee ahead of our majestic Polkjhy.

The first will enter the storm just as we catch up.

We will reach the second as it passes through maximum hyperbolic momentum change.

And the third?

It will make it to the transfer point, with time enough to jump into the next higher level of hyperspace.

The sabotage attack on our control room has thus created serious problems, out of proportion to the damage done to our CaptainLeader, whose incapacity should not last long. Meanwhile, however, tactics has come up with a plan.