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Updated: June 2, 2025
And between any two solar systems the journeying of the Med Ship consumed much time. Which would be maddening for someone with no work to do or no resources in himself, or herself. On the second ship-day Calhoun labored painstakingly and somewhat distastefully at the little biological laboratory. Maril watched him in a sort of brooding silence.
When Weald was a first-magnitude star, the four were not highly qualified astrogators, to be sure, but they were vastly better spacemen than at the beginning. Inevitably, their attitude toward Calhoun was respectful. He'd been irritable and right. To the young, the combination is impressive. Maril had served as passenger only.
He could have killed him ten times over, but it was more desirable to open communication. So he missed, intentionally. Maril had cried out that she came from Dara and had word for them, but they did not answer. There were three men with heavy-duty blast-rifles. One was the one Calhoun had burned out of his hiding-place. That man's rifle exploded when the flames hit it. Two remained.
Calhoun blinked. "Yes...." "Korvan," said Maril very carefully, "Has worked out an idea that that's what happens to the blueskin markings on us Darians. He thinks that people almost dead of the plague could get the virus, and if they recovered from the plague pass the virus on and be blueskins." "Interesting," said Calhoun, noncommittally.
He worked busily for minutes, checking the position of the Wealdian landing-grid mapped in the Sector Directory against the look of continents and seas on the half-disk so plainly visible outside. He found what he wanted. He put on the ship's solar-system drive. "I wish," he complained to Maril, "I wish I could think straight the first time! And it's so obvious!
"Because I was there," said Maril. She said, somehow desperately, "I know you did it! But the question is, are you going to tell? When people find they're not blueskins any longer, when there's no such thing as a blueskin any longer, will you tell them why?" "Naturally not," said Calhoun. "Why?" Then he guessed. "Has Korvan " "He thinks," said Maril, "that he thought it up all by himself.
He listened to Murgatroyd's heartbeat, while Murgatroyd dozed. "Maril," he said. "Write down something for me. The time, and ninety-six, and one-twenty over ninety-four." She obeyed, not comprehending. Half an hour later, still not stirring to disturb Murgatroyd, he had her write down another time and sequence of figures, only slightly different from the first.
When Weald was a first-magnitude star, the four were not highly qualified astrogators, to be sure, but they were vastly better spacemen than at the beginning. Inevitably, their attitude toward Calhoun was respectful. He'd been irritable and right. To the young, the combination is impressive. Maril had served as passenger only.
But it's not only a Med Service obligation; it's a current mess! Before I could begin to get at the basic problem, those idiots on Orede It'd happened before I reached Weald! An emotional explosion triggered by a ship full of dead men that nobody intended to kill." Maril shook her head. "Those Darian characters," said Calhoun, annoyed, "shouldn't have gone to Orede in the first place.
If you want to put something out in space, and not have it interfere with traffic, in what sort of orbit and at what distance will you put it?" Maril did not answer. "Obviously," said Calhoun, "you'll put it as far as possible from the landing-pattern of ships coming in to the space-port. You'll put it on the opposite side of the planet.
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