Part 31 (1/2)

the catapult. That's usually the only time problems crop up, come to think of it: when s.h.i.+ps get out of order and the ma.s.s settings are therefore scrambled.”

”Interesting.” Forsythe looked at the doorway. ”I'd very much like to go over more of the operational

details with you later, Mr. Daviee. But first, I should probably go and find Ronyon.”

”Actually, I can just-no, I can't,” Hanan interrupted himself. ”He can't hear the intercom, can he?”

”No,” Forsythe said. ”I have a call stick, but that won't do any good unless he knows where I am.”

”He was making the bed in Ornina's cabin when I left him,” Chandris offered. ”Shall I go get him?”

Forsythe shook his head. ”Thank you, no.”

”It's no trouble-”

”I said no,” Forsythe repeated; and this time Kosta heard a slight edge in his voice. ”It'll be better if

I-”.

He broke off as a sound Kosta had never heard came from Ornina's control board. ”What was that?”

he asked.

”EmDef ID,” Ornina said, turning back to her board. ”Someone with high priority is coming

through... oh, G.o.d,” she added, very quietly.”What?” Kosta asked.”It's Hova's Skyarcher,” she said in the same quiet voice. ”They're bringing it home.””What, only now?” Forsythe frowned, leaning forward as if he would get a better look that way.”It wasn't easy to retrieve,” Hanan said. ”Very close in to Angelma.s.s. They had to send an autobooster in to push it out to where the tows.h.i.+p could get it without frying the crew.”

”Can we get a look?” Kosta asked.

”I'm trying,” Hanan said. ”They're pretty far away and going the opposite direction. Let's see...”

And suddenly, on all the displays, there it was.

Ornina inhaled sharply, and Kosta found himself feeling a little sicker than he already was. The Hova's Skyarcher was a wreck: its shape noticeably warped, its vaunted Empyreal sandwich-metal hull blackened and pitted. ”It must have really gone deep to have taken that much damage,” he heard himself say.

”Yes,” Hanan agreed. He sounded a little sick, too. ”Far deeper than it should have. The radiation surge must have scrambled all the control settings before it...” He trailed off.

Before it killed them, Kosta finished the thought silently. With an effort, he tore his gaze from the wrecked s.h.i.+p.

To find Forsythe watching him.

Briefly, he held the High Senator's gaze before turning away, wondering dimly what was going on behind that stolid face. But he wasn't especially concerned about it. For the moment, all his thoughts were tied up in the implications of what had happened to that s.h.i.+p out there.

”Getting out of range,” Hanan murmured.

Kosta turned back to the displays. The dead hulk and the sleek EmDef s.h.i.+ps towing it were becoming hazy as they pushed the limits of the Gazelle's telescope and optical enhancement system. ”They taking it to the Inst.i.tute?” he asked.

”Probably to a decon center first,” Hanan told him. ”It's got to be blazing with secondary radiation-you saw the length of cable the tow s.h.i.+p was using.”

Forsythe s.h.i.+fted in his seat. ”Mr. Daviee, you said you normally only get logjam problems when the hunters.h.i.+ps get out of order,” he said. ”Do you ever get logjams otherwise?”

”What do you mean?” Hanan asked.

”For the Inst.i.tute's self-focusing theory to be right, hunters.h.i.+ps have to occasionally drop bits of ma.s.s into Angelma.s.s,” Forsythe said. ”If they drop things there, it follows that they should also sometimes drop things during other parts of the trip, too.”

”Which could show up as recalibration problems when catapulting,” Hanan said, nodding slowly. ”Huh. I never thought of that. Jereko?”

”I don't know if anyone else has thought of it, either,” Kosta said, glancing at Forsythe with newly heightened respect. In his admittedly limited experience, he'd never found government types to be exactly br.i.m.m.i.n.g with creative thought. Either Forsythe was an exception, or the Empyrean had found a way to attract a smarter cla.s.s of people into public service than the Pax had.

Or else it had something to do with the fact that Empyreal politicians carried angels.

The others, he realized suddenly, were still waiting. ”I don't know if the mathematics would work out, either,” he added, forcing his mind back to the question. ”It could be that the amount of ma.s.s necessary to start a self-focusing surge is still within catapult tolerances. Worth checking out, though.”

”I've got a list here of all the catapult delays we've been involved in over the past year,” Ornina spoke up.

”How do I get it?” Forsythe asked, fingers hovering over the control board in front of his seat.

”Allow me,” Kosta said, unstrapping and stepping carefully in the low gravity to the High Senator's seat. He keyed for an echo of Ornina's screen, gave it a fast once-over. ”I don't see anything obvious,” he said.

”Me, neither,” Hanan agreed. ”Though that may not mean anything. One hunters.h.i.+p for one year isn't much of a sample.”

”Let's try anyway,” Kosta suggested. ”If you'll allow me, High Senator...?”

”Certainly.” Forsythe swiveled the panel around to where Kosta could more easily operate it.

The Gazelle's computer library contained two different statistical packages. Kosta called them up for a quick look. ”I don't think either of those can handle a sample this small,” Hanan said, watching the echo of Kosta's work on his own display.

”No,” Kosta agreed. ”But I know of one that might be able to. Let's see if I can remember how it works.”

It was a highly esoteric program he'd learned in his first year at the university, and he wound up with two false starts before he got it right. But finally it was ready. Feeding in Ornina's data, he set it running. ”Interesting program,” Forsythe said. ”How long until it's done?”

”A couple of minutes,” Kosta told him. ”Speed is not its primary virtue.” He let his eyes drift around the room, relaxing from the close-focus work of the display screen.

Chandris's seat was empty.

He glanced surrept.i.tiously around the room, heart suddenly thudding in his ears. She was gone, all right. Sometime in the last few minutes, without anyone noticing, she'd just slipped away.

He opened his mouth to announce his discovery; bit down gently on his tongue instead. She'd probably just gone to find Ronyon, that was all. Or something equally innocent.