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Updated: June 24, 2025
Rugel told him that this was the moment of equilibrium, the peak of the faster-than-light motion. "Perhaps a true limiting speed beyond which nothing will ever go," Vorongil said, touching the charts with a varnished claw. Rugel's scarred old mouth spread in a thin smile. "Maybe there's no such thing as a limiting speed.
"I've been yelling for a new cable for six months." He turned. "Take it easy, Bartol; don't let Vorongil scare you. He likes to hear the sound of his own voice, but we'd all walk out the lock without spacesuits for him." The elevator slid to a stop. The sign in Lhari letters said Level of Administration Officers' Deck. Ringg pushed at a door and said, "Captain Vorongil?"
I admit I wouldn't believe it until I had a look at your foot bones under the fluoroscope." Vorongil said quietly, "Bartol I don't suppose that's your real name why did you do it?" "I couldn't see you all die, sir," Bart said, not expecting them to believe him. "No more than that." The medic said roughly in Lhari, "It's a trick, sir, no more. A trick to make us trust him!"
"I remembered you had a bad reaction, to warp-drive," he said. "I came to see if you were all right. I would never have believed but I'm beginning to guess. There was always something about you, Bartol." He shut the door behind him and stood against it. His voice lowered almost to a whisper, he said, "You're not Lhari, are you?" "Vorongil knows," Bart said. Ringg nodded. "That day on Lharillis.
And if he succeeded, Vega Interplanet could spread from star to star, a mighty memorial to Rupert Steele. One day Vorongil sent for him. "Bartol," he said, and his voice was not unkind, "you and Ringg have always been good friends, so don't be angry about this. He's worried about you says you spend all your spare time in your bunk growling at him. Is there anything the matter, feathertop?"
He had gray skin and long claws and white hair, just the way I once had pinkish skin and short fingernails and reddish hair, but the difference wasn't that I was human inside and he wasn't. If you skinned Ringg, and skinned me, we'd be almost identical. And all of a sudden then, Ringg and Vorongil and all the rest were men to me. Just people.
Captain Vorongil said that anyone who talked about it would be sent to Kleeto for three cycles. But what happened to you? Miss your ship?" "No, I've just been laying off traveling, sight-seeing, bumming around," Bart said. "But I'm tired of it, and now I'd like to sign out again." "Well, we could use another man.
"Strange," Vorongil said, looking into space, "that I could talk to you as I did by the monument, and you knew what I meant. But, yes, you would understand." Abruptly, he recalled himself, and his voice was thin and cold. "I haven't quite decided what to do. I haven't spoken of this to the crew yet; the fewer who know about this, the better.
"Why would he risk his own life then?" Vorongil asked. "No, it's more than that." He hesitated. "We checked the bunkers in radiation suits before we took off. We found a man in one of them." "Was he dead?" Bart whispered. "No," Vorongil said quietly. "Thank God!" It was a heartfelt explosion. Then, apprehensively, "Or did you kill him?" "What do you think we are?" Vorongil said incredulously.
Bart glanced at his human hands. Vorongil shrugged. "We've carried Mentorians as full-ranking Astrogators. There don't happen to be any on the Swiftwing. But there's no law about it." Bart looked the old Lhari in the eye. "I won't accept Mentorian terms, Vorongil." "I wouldn't ask it.
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