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"Something that indicated a ship-possibly even the Aura Dancer-was going to be
destroyed."
I groaned inwardly, making a note to personally strangle whoever had let this
mangled version slip. "The
Aura Dancer is in no danger whatsoever," I told Orlandis. "Another liner may
have suffered damage-"
"Or been destroyed?"
"Or even been destroyed," I snarled. "But that's all strictly conjecture. Do
you know anything about cascade images?"
"Some of the theory, but I've never seen them myself."
"Well, then you at least know that the images represent possibilities, not
realities. What Ms. Keal saw may or may not have anything to do with the real
universe."
"But regardless, the Aura Dancer itself is not in danger?"
"None at all."
Orlandis nodded. "I see. Thank you for putting my mind at ease."
The idea of his mind being any more at ease than it always seemed to be anyway
was faintly ludicrous, but I wasn't in the mood to appreciate the irony. We'd
reached Eiser now and I told him briefly that he didn't belong up here. His
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immediate and highly embarrassed apology nearly made up for Orlandis's lack of
same, and I felt a little better as I watched the two of them go down the
stairway. Following, I made sure the "Off Limits to Passengers" sign was
indeed still prominently posted, and then headed back upstairs to the bridge.
Alana still didn't have all of her fire back, but she was as firm and adamant
as she could be without it.
"No, I certainly did not tell Orlandis anything," she said when I'd described
my little confrontation with the man. "I was told you'd given orders not to
spread it about."
"I did," I growled, already making a mental list of the next likely suspects.
Orlandis didn't have the same access to most of them that he had to Alana, but
obviously that hadn't mattered to someone. Sarojis, possibly-he talked as much
as any other two aboard. Leeds and Kate Epstein? They were reasonably
discreet, but they worked most directly with the passengers and Orlandis could
be pretty overwhelming-
"Just forget it, Pall," Alana sighed.
"Forget what?"
"Raining fire on anyone's head. So the passengers know-big deal. As long as
there's no panic, I can handle any extra stares and whispers. Whoever spilled
probably feels bad enough as it is.
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. She was right, of course. As usual.
"Oh, all right." I tried another breath and was more or less back to normal.
"You going to do a check of my calculations for the next point?"
"Already started." She licked her lips and looked up at me. "I'd like to do
this one, Pall, if you don't mind."
"Just to prove you can handle it?" I shook my head. "Thanks, but it's my
turn."
"But I still owe you one-"
"Then we'll settle things later in the trip," I told her firmly. "You're not
up to it yet."
"If I'm not up to it now, when will I be?"
"All right, then; I'm not up to letting you do it. Okay?"
She glared at me for a minute, but then the brief spark faded. "Okay," she
sighed. "If you're going to make it an order."
"I am," I nodded, knowing at that point that I had indeed made the correct
decision. If she wasn't strong enough to argue with me, she almost certainly
wasn't strong enough to handle a cascade maneuver. "Just make sure I got all
the numbers entered properly. Talk to you later."
I left, trying not to feel like an overprotective mother. I would handle the
next cascade maneuver, whether it bothered her pride or not.
And as it turned out, it was probably a good thing I did.
Below me the flywheel was humming its familiar drone, and in four directions
the cascade images had begun their intricate saraband. Among them, like
departed dance partners whose places no one had dared to take, the six dark
gaps wove in and out as well. Always, their presence was noticeable; today, it
was almost overwhelming. Gaps... flaws... voids-mortality underlined. I
wondered how I would feel to see one of my own images wink out like Alana
had... wondered if I'd be able to handle the shock as well as she had.
I doubted it. I'd had my share of nightmares about losing the Dancer; had come
close to actually doing so on at least one occasion. To know that, even in
another reality, I was capable of killing myself, my crew, and my passengers
through some foolish decision wasn't something I was prepared to face.
And right about then all the relays in my brain went click together, and I
stared at the gaps in the pattern as suddenly everything that had made sense
five days ago ceased to do so.
I finished the maneuver on sheer brain stem reflex, and five minutes afterward
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was in Alana's cabin. It took me another fifteen to shake her adequately
awake, by which time most of my depression had passed.
"Pall?" she asked, concern beginning to show through the fog.
"Relax," I told her. "I think I may have good news for you. Maybe. Tell me,
was it only your captain's image that vanished? None of the ones around it?"
"Uh-huh. Why?"
She would have gotten it in a minute, but I was too impatient to wait for her
to wake up all the way.
"Because the two or three on either side of the captain's image were of you as
a subordinate officer on the Angelwing. You see? If the ship had died those
should have disappeared, too."
Her eyes widened as it finally penetrated. "Then... the Angelwing's still all
right?"
"It has to be. Look, consecutive cascade images are usually pretty similar,
right? So whatever happened to the captain should also have happened to the
first officer next to it in the pattern. Only it didn't, because the captain's
gone but the first officer's still there. With you not in command, apparently,
the ship comes out okay-and you're not in command. QED."
She closed her eyes and seemed to slump into her mattress. "It's all right,"
she murmured.
I squeezed her hand and got to my feet. "Just thought you'd like to know. Got
to get back to the bridge now, check our position. See you later."
I didn't wait for the rumor mill this time, but went ahead and broadcast the
news on the crew intercom as soon as the sleepers wore off. I can't say that
there was any great jubilation, but the easing of the general tension level
was almost immediately evident. They stopped tiptoeing in Alana's presence and
got a little of their usual vigor back, and within a day I'd even heard an
off-handed reference to the shortest captaincy on record. I came down a bit on
that one-it was still a traumatic experience from Alana's perspective, after
all-but in general I was satisfied with the results of my surprise insight.
Little things like that were what made a captain feel he was doing his job.
I got to bask in that self-generated glow for two days more... and then the
whole thing started to unravel.
It was Pascal, predictably, who was first to tug on the thread. I was
relieving him on the bridge, and he had given me the normal no-changes report, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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