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"I only locate metals fatigue, sir I don't make it!" "No help for it then," Vorongil said. "We'll have to put down for repairs. How much time do we have, Ringg?" "I give it thirty hours," Ringg said briefly, and Vorongil gave a long shrill whistle. "Bartol, what's the closest listed spaceport?" Bart dived for handbooks, manuals, comparative tables of position, and started programming information.
Dad, if you could only know! The first interstellar ship of Eight Colors was to bear the name Rupert Steele, but that was years in the future. Now, looking at the Swiftwing, at Ringg and Tommy, at Raynor Three and Vorongil, who would all be his shipmates in the new world they were building, he felt suddenly very lonely again. "Come in, Bart.
"Well," Vorongil said, slowly and almost reflectively, "let's take her up then." He touched some controls. The humming grew. Then, swift, hard and crushing, weight mashed Bart against his couch. "Position!" Vorongil's voice sounded harsh, and Bart fought the crushing weight of it.
"You fool," said Vorongil to the Mentorian, in disgust, "why didn't you tell him what the medics had done for him? Easy, Bartol!" The old Lhari's arm tightened around his shoulder. "I thought they'd told you. Somebody come here and give the youngster a hand."
Suddenly Vorongil was shouting, but Bart could not hear. Two men were dragging him along. They hustled him up the ramp of the ship. He could see again, but his eyes were blurred, and he felt sick, colors spinning before his eyes, a nauseated ringing in his head.
No, you're not going to be killed." "If I had my way " the old medic began, and suddenly Vorongil flew into a rage. "Get out!" The medic went stiffly through the door, and Vorongil stood gazing down at Bart, shaking his yellowed crest. "I don't know what to say to you. It was a brave thing you did, but perhaps no braver than you've done all along. Are you a Mentorian?" "Only half."
"Sure," Tommy exclaimed, "we've got to celebrate," but Bart stopped, looking past them. "Captain Vorongil!" he said, and went to greet the old Lhari. "I thought you'd hate me, rieko mori." The term of respect fell naturally from his lips. "I did, for a time," Vorongil said quietly. "But I remembered the day we stood on Lharillis, by the monument.
But first of all are you all right, Meta?" Her chin went up, defiantly. "Yes. And why have you lied to us all these years all of you?" Vorongil looked mildly startled. "It wasn't exactly a lie. Nine out of ten Lhari captains believe it with all their heart that humans die in warp-drive. I wasn't sure myself until I heard the debates in Council City, last year." "But why?" Vorongil sighed.
Through the dark, through the void, with his own crew cursing him for taking the chance! No one had ever crossed between galaxies and remember, they were using the Ancient Math!" He paused, and Bart said through a catch of breath. "Quite an achievement." His badge still looked reassuringly yellow. "You young people have no sense of wonder," Vorongil said. "Not that I blame you.
I suppose you are afraid we will block your memories, or your ability to speak of them?" Bart nodded, gulping. Did the old Lhari read his mind? "A year ago we might have done so. Captain Vorongil, you will be interested to know that we have discussed this in Council, and your recommendations have been taken. The secret that humans can endure star-drive has outlived its usefulness.
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