Resurgence

With J’merlia at the controls, the chances of a rough ride were close to zero. But either you did what your pilot told you, or you looked for a different pilot. Nenda said to the imager, “Any problem with building the picture while we rendezvous?”

Yes and no. The ship’s movements experienced during rendezvous can readily be corrected using image motion compensation algorithms. However, the planet is turning on its axis. Even if we continue imaging, our final result will be of variable definition, since the dwell time for the whole surface will not be uniform.

“Times are hard all over. Do the best you can, an’ keep addin’ photons to give us a good picture.” Nenda took a final look at the image on the display. Numerous dark dots were coupled by narrow lines to form a fine web over the whole planetary surface. It was exactly the kind of pattern that the mind liked to conjure up—except that in this case, the sensor assured him that what he saw was not just the result of human imagination.

There was one more thing that had to be done before rendezvous. Nenda turned to Atvar H’sial, who had been listening intently to some mysterious two-dimensional data stream of sound.

“At, can I borrow J’merlia for a while? I have a job for him.”

“If it will extend into the time of our meeting on the Pride of Orion, you will deprive me of my interpreter.”

“I’m not as good with the pheromones as J’merlia, but I can run you a pretty good simultaneous translation.”

“Then I agree. You will, of course, owe me a favor. I will go now to J’merlia and command him to follow your instructions.”

The Cecropian glided out. Nenda turned to Kallik. “I have a tough one for you.”

“Master Nenda, I will operate to the best of my abilities.”

“This will need them. While Atvar H’sial and I are gone, I want you and J’merlia to plot out the locations of Bose transition points in the Sag Arm. Mark as many of them as you can, along with associated closest stars and distances.”

“Master Nenda, we lack data about the Sag Arm. How are we to locate Bose nodes?”

“If I knew that, would I be askin’ for help? You can make a start with the data base from the Polypheme ship. It was all loaded into the banks on the Pride of Orion. You should be able to access that from here.”

“Data provided from Chism Polypheme sources are notoriously unreliable.”

“Sure they are. But that doesn’t mean everything in them is wrong.”

He heard the faint sigh of equalizing air pressures. J’merlia had already docked them with the Pride of Orion, and so gently that Nenda had not even felt the contact. Which meant that Louis had to get a move on—the last thing he wanted was somebody on board the other ship deciding to take a look at the interior of the Have-It-All. He had closed the weapons ports as soon as he gave the command to seek the Pride of Orion, but there were plenty of other things he did not want exposed to prying eyes.

He gave a few final instructions to Kallik and hurried out. Behind him, the instrument sensor was turning for sympathy to Kallik, the only organic being remaining in the chamber.

This task cannot be performed well unless the ship moves closer to the target. A simple accumulation of photons will not suffice to provide a first-rate image. There is also the question of resolution. Even with diffraction-limited optics—

* * *

Nenda was barely in time. But for the actions of Atvar H’sial he would not have been. The umbilical between the two ships was already in position when he reached the hatch, and Atvar H’sial was standing in front of it. The Cecropian had towered up to her full height, with her black wing cases stretched as wide as they would go to block the whole umbilical. The pheromones wafting from her were wordless, but they betrayed a smoldering anger.

“What’s up, At? Give us a bit more room there.” Nenda squeezed his way through on her right-hand side. He pushed the wing cases and delicate vestigial wings out of the way, and found himself face to face with a human female. “I see. And who the hell might you be?”

But he could already guess the answer. The only strangers on the Pride of Orion were the “survival experts.” This had to be one of that team of five, kept in strict seclusion by Julian Graves.