PART I

E PLURIBUS UNUM

When I understood how much was out there, I had to go.

Roland Dascher, Austrian mountain climber, adventure travel guide, owns and operates the Athena, an advanced orbit to surface lander and surface exploration vehicle; he makes his living by guiding canyoneering trips on Mars, and scientific and commercial exploration trips on Mars, asteroids, and gas giant moons.

Wherever I go, it's still the same me who's there.

Smaque Dowyn, owns and operates the Pioneer, an advanced long range deep-space cargo ship; world record-holder for time in microgravity; she changed her name on a bet due to her fondness for pro wrestling.

The real trip is in your head.

Mac the Wire, neurosurgeon, computer prodigy; invented first practical direct brain-to-computer interface; he became wealthy after public stock offering; his system requires surgery and can only be legally used for medical purposes; retired from medicine, owns and operates the Hole in the Head Bar & Drill, an illegal direct neural link cyber bar; he adopted his name as a joke with his best friend Smaque; the bet was a tie.

It is reasonable that a primate species who experienced the latter stages of its evolution in a grassland would develop both a strong desire to explore and the technical intelligence to do so. The low nutrient density per unit area of the environment favored those individuals who moved on to new lands. The prehensile hands inherited from their tree-dwelling ancestors found a new use in tool making, which in turn favored development of a mental capacity for producing tools. These two tendencies, the desire to seek out new worlds and the ability to go where no one has gone before, are highly developed in Dascher, Dowyn, and The Wire. For this reason, they are interesting specimens for further study.

Malik, Vulcan exobiologist specializing in the study of homo sapiens; she was a member of the First Contact team.

1

Bar Talk

"You'll never get me to bore a hole through my skull," said Roland. Smaque had brought him to Mac's bar that fall afternoon to meet Mac. They had been chatting for about 10 minutes in a corner booth, time enough for Roland to be getting toward the bottom of his second pilsner.

"Our convenient outpatient clinic is right in the back, anytime you're ready. Of course, if you spent more time in the city and less in a tent you wouldn't be so shocked by things," said Mac, with his typical expression: a mixture of chuckle and smirk.

"I'm not shocked, and I've been to more weird places than you have I imagine. I just like to keep my thoughts right where they are."

"Boys," said Smaque, "Enough posturing about who's the most worldly wise. Why don't we get done to business?" Mac and Roland were actually starting to get along, as Smaque had hoped they would. She had expected they would have some initial suspicion about each other, since their lives were so outwardly different. She'd known both of them for years, Mac as an old friend, and Roland through work, since he often hired her to ferry the Athena through deep space.

"Hey, look who's talking about posturing. Mac, let me tell you about the first time I met her. I flew the Athena up to Pioneer in Earth orbit and docked onto the front. I'd hired her to take me and a commercial client to Europa. We came on board, introduced ourselves, chatted a minute, and then she shows off by putting a finger on one wall to keep herself steady and tapping my foot with her toe. I spun around and banged my head into the wall. I had a headache for a week. Turns out she was showing off her famous zero gee judo."

"Where do think my name came from? I really didn't mean to spin you that hard, honey. Hey, in my world it doesn't matter how much weight you can lift, tough guy, because there's no weight to lift. You have to know the moves. You know what they say back home: In a fight between a bear and a gator, the victor depends on the terrain."

"Well, it was definitely quite an introduction to a lady, getting the crap beat out of me before she even said a proper howdy. I decided right then I'd hire her for all my future trips."

"Spinning guys around does come in handy. I remember one time after about three months in deep space, the deck hands were getting a little frisky, me being the only girl on board and all. One body builder type with a handlebar moustache and a buzz haircut got too familiar, so I flipped him down a long, dark hallway. I'll never forgot him sailing off, waving his arms and legs, yelling, "hey, hey, hey," trying the grab the wall as he sailed into the darkness. After the clang we heard from the end of the hall, he was a real gentleman. Got to where he'd open hatches for me and let me float through first. I feel sweet for helping that poor child learn his manners."

"Well, finally getting back to business," said Mac. "Roland's actually brought up my exact problem with his comment about not wanting his head drilled. A lot of people feel that way, only they don't want anybody else drilled either. I'm about to get shut down, sued for everything I have, and arrested. It's all in the works already. It's one thing to read a textbook about what's in the subconscious; it's another to put it on disc and show it to people. As my little operation here gets more well known, the forces of purity, read illusion, get more excited."

"So you're willing to bankroll the whole thing?" said Smaque?

"What've I got to lose? I've got to get the hell out of Dodge, and soon. The sheriff's on the way. So tell me your mysterious idea."

"Well," said Smaque, "it's something Roland and I have been talking about since First Contact, but when you approached me about taking you off the planet, I figured we can finally make it work. We mate the Athena to the front end of the Pioneer, put warp engines on the back, which I can build at my deep space pit stop facility, and we wire the whole thing up with Charlotte and Wilbur."

"Who?"

"They're my computers," said Mac. "Charlotte is the web; that is, the interface and network. Wilbur does the grunt work. Puns intended. But how do we stay away from the cops?"

Smaque said, "The regulations against warp vehicles are still new and open to a lot of interpretation; they don't necessarily preclude buying the parts and building mockups. They were written to prevent development of an invisible weapon; that is, a missile that can outrun the light or radio wave or whatever you bounce off it, so it hits you before you can see it. An ultimate weapon until somebody develops faster than light detection. Since the Vulcans won't give us any technology, we're shut down. However, I think I can get away with developing what will officially be a prototype for a future transport. The government is in such disarray right now that enforcement at my facility will be nonexistent, I hope, so when we install the engines on the ship, it'll be a month before the territorial marshall knows. As soon as it's built, we take off, and we're the first human interstellar explorers. You know, rich and famous. Unless we don't come back, then just famous. Roland, quit staring at Sonia."

"Sorry, Smaque, lost my focus again."

Smaque continued, "We actually need you for more than your money, Mac. We have some huge computer problems. The way the warp ripples propagate is very complex, and if you don't establish the warp field very precisely, we won't know how fast we're going. The other problem is astrometrics. If we go far enough, we need to navigate by the stars."

"That's impossible," said Mac. "We'd have to know the distance to every star so we can make a three dimensional picture. Then we have to be able to rotate the picture and see it from the point of view of any point in our range of travel, which we don't even know yet. Then we need software to match what we see out the window with the view from every possible point, so we can find out which point we're at."

"Even if we did all that," said Smaque, "we still wouldn't know where to go. We can't just randomly search the galaxy. It's too big. Since the Vulcans arrived, we know there's a lot out there. They found us, they have all these procedures for alien contact already developed, so they probably found other intelligent species. and they're humanoid, so we might even have common ancestors that we spread from in this region of the galaxy. But it's still too big. It could still be one inhabited solar system in a hundred million."

"Then there's only one solution," said Roland. "We have to get a Vulcan to talk."

2

Waltz

Although humans have a desire to explore and the technical capacity to exploit the new environments they move into, they lack any instinctive restraint against overexploitation of new worlds. This is perhaps due to the fact that virtually all of their evolution occurred during a period when the earth was effectively limitless from their point of view. Thus, they could invade a new territory, deplete it, and move on. However, the evolutionary pressure toward tool making gave them rudimentary logic. Thus, they can apprehend their predicament intellectually. They simply lack the emotional equipment, upon which they so depend, to motivate them to take the logical steps. Thus, their salvation lies in strengthening their logic. I therefore recommend that we consider a variance from the Prime Directive and conduct a test of human decision making under challenging circumstances with a Vulcan in an advisory capacity to assist with logic. I do not recommend any transfer of technology or information at this time.

Malik

. . .

"Your music is pleasant, but simplistic for my taste. I prefer Bach." Malik was standing in the doorway of Roland's office. Tales of the Vienna Woods was playing in the background. He had never personally met a Vulcan before. There were only a few thousand on earth, and they tended to be aloof. They had announced immediately after First Contact their policy against influencing human history. The impact of First Contact had, of course, been explosive, despite their intentions.

She had the appearance of a elf, small framed with pointed ears. Like a lot of people, Roland suspected Vulcans had been observing humans for centuries. It occurred to him that accidental sightings may have led to the folklore of magical elves. But the most striking thing was the deep, direct eye contact. He felt as if he could fall into her eyes and come out into another world.

"You can't dance to Bach," said Roland.

"I understand. Waltz music is both classical and light at the same time. It in some ways symbolizes your homeland, combining the culture of the Germans and the light-hearted artistry of the Italians."

"You're quite a student of human history. We have an expression. The Prussian believes life is serious but not hopeless; the Austrian believes it is hopeless but not serious."

"Your homeland is also that of Adolph Hitler."

"So I'm often reminded. Please have a seat. What can I do for you."

"I apologize for offending you. I am still learning to accommodate human emotion." As she walked toward the chair, Roland was struck by the effortless, fast, gliding stride. He had heard that the planet Vulcan had high gravity and that Vulcans were very strong. So walking for her would be like a human skipping across the surface of the moon.

"Your English is excellent, by the way," he said.

"Sprechen Sie lieber Deutsch?"

"English is fine."

Malik took a seat. "I want to join the group you're taking to Mars."

Roland was shocked. He, Smaque, and Mac had planned a trip to Mars, purportedly so Roland could return with tourists for a canyoneering trip and Smaque could drop him and the Athena there and ferry supplies on to the Pit Stop station. The trip was about three months away and had not been publicly advertized yet. Some of their communications had been in the open so it would later appear as a normal trip.

"I don't follow. Why do you need me to go to Mars?"

"We wish to observe the full range of human behavior. Adventure travel is a fruitful context in which to see humans challenge themselves and at the same time engage in social interaction."

"You'll spend a lot of time just on the ferry trip over and back. There're a lot of adventure trips on Earth, the Amazon, the Himalayas. You could do those in a couple of weeks. Besides, how did you know I was planning a trip?"

Malik paused for a moment. "I wish to study you and your companions."

"Which companions?"

"Smaque and Mac."

Now it was Roland's turn to pause. His mind was spinning. She must know about the whole E Pluribus Unum project. How could she even connect him to Mac? Why was she keeping the secret? Was this more of the Prime Directive? Let the guinea pigs kill themselves? But if she were along, she wouldn't let that happen. He thought for a moment, then said, "Welcome abroad."

3

Lady, Knight

One of the most interesting mechanisms by which the human male channels his aggressive tendencies is chivalry. The classic form of this myth is a Knight on a Quest to make himself worthy of his Lady. The knight is an adult male, trained in combat, clad in armor and bristling with weapons, who, apparently realizing on some level his own immaturity, voluntarily puts himself at the service of the Lady, a remote and idealized female. In the more sophisticated version of this myth, the Knight uses the image of the Lady and his desire to make himself worthy of her as a device to motivate his own self-actualization. Thus, possession of the Lady is less important than the Quest.

Malik.

. . .

"I dedicate this to the forces of chaos and the bitch who betrayed me," Roland said to the computer screen. He placed the empty beer bottle beside the four others on the table and thought, I sure have become American. I even like cold beer. He thought back to the outdoor tables in the restaurant on the side of the hill in the center of Salzburg with the castle at the top of the hill and the waiter pushing along a cart topped by a hot water pan with mugs of beer in it warming, an inch of snow on the ground, people sitting outside in their coats. He looked at the screen:

I come in from an early morning run

and I smell coffee

and you’re warming a baby’s bottle

in a pot of hot tap water;

an ordinary miracle I am

inadequate to understand.

What cresting wave of accident made it happen?

What if you had been conceived one second later?

Why am I an inch and a half behind my eyes?

What accident put me there, or anywhere?

You go into Karl’s room

lower the side of the crib

and he snuffles around waking up.

Am I programmed for old age and death

to make room for him?

We sit in the kitchen

and Karl is eating cereal and fruit

and you’re sipping coffee.

I like the smell.

That’s something I don't question,

like your face in my mind

at the edge of everything.

. . .

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"That’s a helluva question to ask someone who’s hanging from a cliff, Malik." She and Roland were scaling a crumbling red wall in a Martian canal. They were hanging 200 meters from the floor belayed to the rim so there was no danger of falling.

"Yes, I believe it exists. I also believe it more likely comes from the woman having a small waist than from any kind of compatibility."

"You’re very cynical."

"I have a habit of screwing up everything. I want more than what's there. I keep chasing a dream. You climb very well, by the way." Roland had moved into a position that required him to reach his right foot to a hold almost a meter to the side of his waist. He had to stretch away from his left foothold and put most of his weight on his hands. The light Martian gravity made this easier than on earth, despite the heavy suits and air tanks. She copied the maneuver easily.

"Vulcan has higher gravity than earth. I’m much stronger than you."

"Great, now I don’t get to be your knight in shining armor."

"In your mythology, the knight puts his superior strength at the service of those weaker than himself. Thus all live long and prosper. Besides, I'm not a better climber than you in all ways. Vulcan is warm and its high gravity causes it to retain a rich atmosphere. I am adapted to those conditions. If I attempted what you countryman Reinhold Messner did many years ago, a solo climb of Everest without supplemental oxygen, I would die of exposure and asphyxiation."

"Knights were a bunch of illiterate barbarians who exploited serfs, tortured Jews, invaded Moslem lands, and took any village wench they wanted."

"Perhaps the mythology can evolve. If you put your foot in my hand, I can lift you to the hand hold on your right."

"So why are you helping me? Look, I know you know about our project and wouldn’t come unless you could help, because otherwise we couldn't succeed."

"Ich diene."

"I serve. That’s the German knight’s motto written on the coat of arms of the English royal family. Now there’s a bunch of real barbarians. That’s the knight’s motto, by the way, not the Lady’s, lady."

"We learn from each other."

4

Dialectic

Malik:I request a variance from the Prime Directive to test my theory of combined Vulcan-Human decision making. The request is for two reasons. First, humans require training in logic for their own sakes, for reasons I have explained. Second, my study has convinced me that humans have superior imaginations, which gives them the ability to make rapid decisions in a context of insufficient data. We may require this ability when we deal with the warrior species that will soon develop warp drive. I wish to join the E Pluribus Unum crew as science officer. I acknowledge that ensuring the survival of myself and the test subjects will involve some transfer of information. In an emergency, it could involve the transfer of technology.

Symposium: We calculate the test is premature. The danger of early transfer is too great and we are of course unwilling to eliminate the test subjects upon return. We observe that the calculations for your proposal include assigning a value of second order infinity to metalogical principles. This results in unacceptable risk.

Malik:I will consider disobeying. I request a calculation of the punishment so that I may determine if the risks outweigh the benefits.

Symposium: We understand. We will furnish the punishment calculation. We ask that you do not discount the punishment by the likelihood of evading capture. This will contaminate the pure calculation of harm against gain.

Malik: I agree not to calculate for evasion when making my decision. I do not agree to submit to capture, should I disobey. Doing so would end the experiment, which I believe is too valuable.

Symposium: We understand. We will not inhibit our free discussion by attempting capture before you disobey. Live long and prosper.

5

Synergy

The Athena glided weightless like a Manta Ray from Martian orbit into deep space. Malik had agreed to supply astrometric information, but none on improving the warp ripple propagation. She had beamed coded information to the Pit Stop were Smaque could plot an itinerary. The Athena was not designed for deep space, but they were drifting toward a planned rendezvous with Pioneer. Malik was floating in the bridge; Roland was asleep, strapped in his chair.

"Wake up." She kicked his foot. "A Vulcan ship just dropped out of warp, 400 kilometers, closing very fast."

"What? Company?"

"They've come to capture me. They must have intercepted my transmission to Pioneer."

Roland jerked forward in his seat and stared at the telescope monitor. He started rapping the knuckles of his right hand into his left palm.

Malik continued, "There's a low probability . . . "

"Turn out the lights and strap in."

Roland started to adjust the attitude controls. "I have to make this look like we're adrift, spinning."

"We cannot pretend to be derelict. They will simply tow us back to Mars."

"No talk. I have to focus."

Roland made minute adjustments in the attitude control. The Athena was slowly rotating front over back. He got a view of the approaching Vulcan ship through the front window as it swung by. It looked like an arrowhead, very angular. The telescopes were no help, because he left them fixed in their positions to appear unmanned.

"I don't think they'll stop your project. They'll just take me. Live long and prosper."

"I plan to do both, with you along. Now be quiet. I could screw this up."

When the Vulcan ship was two hundred minutes behind the engine skirts, Roland flipped on the fusion engines to six Gees. He and Malik were slammed back in their seats. The rear telescope showed a blinding flash. The Vulcan ship had been thrown back spinning, with it sensors incinerated and a charred hull.

Malik pulled herself out of her seat. How can she do that in six Gees, thought Roland. She reached over and flipped the engines down to one Gee.

"Hey, we have to get out of here," Roland said. He unbuckled himself and stood up. The ship had one earth gravity from the one Gee engine acceleration. He tried to move past her to the console. She reached down, grabbed his left ankle from behind, pulled it hard, and he slammed down onto his face. She put her other hand on the back of his neck and put her knee in the middle of his back. Her grip was no strong the pain made his eyes water.

"You may have killed that crew. We're going back."

"I tried not to. I figured they had a hull that could stand that much heat for reentry," he said through teeth clenched from the pain. "Let me up, you're hurting me."

She tightened her grip. The pain was like a knife in his ankle. She said, "Why did you do that? Many are worth more than one."

"They had us like cornered animals. I had to do something."

"You are not a beast. You must always calculate for least harm. If you try that again, I will stop you."

"You're hurting me."

She let him up and examined the rear telescope monitor. "I don't see venting gases. I see lights through their windows, so they have internal systems. I think they are safe, but adrift. We must return."

"We can't even get them on board. Their hatch is seared. We can't tow them either."

"Correct. I will send a distress single."

"If you do they'll know we're out here."

"Correct. They appear intact. I will program a buoy to send the signal in two days."

She turned to him. "I will not allow you to be brutal. You could have killed them all."

"I just saved you."

"I am not worth killing for. I am one."

They stared at each other.

"You hurt me," he said. He turned and limped to the ready room door. The door closed and she heard the lock click.

"We have yet much to learn of one another, good Sir Knight," she said to the closed door.

6

The King and the Man in Black

The Athena had docked onto the front of the Pioneer. A marshall's patrol ship was also docked part way down one side. Malik and Roland had just come though the connecting hatch and saw Smaque coming towards them. She was moving fast just beside the ladder on the wall, each pull sending her forward about five meters. She flew at them like an eagle, then flipped over, absorbed the impact against the side of the ship with her legs, and grabbed a rung to prevent herself from bouncing back down the hall.

"Howdy. As you see, a deputy came on board for an inspection. It raised a few eyebrows when I came out here with warp engine parts, 40,000 tons of supplies, enough water to fill two swimming pools, and the biggest hydroponic greenhouse ever installed in a spaceship. Told him I was using the ship as a survivalist shelter. He thought it was a great idea. We've assured him we're no where near completing a working engine, but of course he'll figure out pretty soon that's not so. Mac's working on an alternate plan."

She looked at them closely. "You kids have a spat? And what happened to your foot, Roland? It's swoll up like a grapefruit."

"Just trying to work out who's boss. I guess I should go see the marshal and act like everything's normal," said Roland.

"Can't right now, he's in with Mac. Let's go get something to eat."

. . .

Mac and the deputy were in sick bay.

"So, you're passing yourself off as a ship medical guy, huh?"

"Oh, that was my original career. I've always wanted to get back to it."

"Out here? Look, I know what you do. Hell, all the cops know who you are. But frontier deputies cut people a lot of slack on stuff like that. What you do on your own time's up to you. I hear you do good work, real high quality. They say you're safe, too. The amateurs screw people up. That's the problem."

"Ever thought about giving it a try?"

"Well, maybe we could work something out. This territory might be a good place for you to run a little business. And I don't necessarily have to say anything. If I could drop by occasionally for a little recreation. You going to operate off Smaque's ship?"

"I'm thinking about it. Hey, no time like the present. Wanna try a free sample."

"You don't mess people up, right? One bad trip, your reputations gone and you're out of business, you know. Plus, I got a lot of buddies on the force. But I know you have a good reputation. What the hell. Let's go. I'm not chicken."

"You're safe from me. I can't put anything in. It's all your fantasy. What you really want."

Mac prepped him by strapping him on the table and giving him general anesthesia through a mask. When the deputy was unconscious, he swabbed a spot high on the left temple, toward the front, without shaving any hair, so the plugin would be hidden. Then he started to drill, watching the sonogram to guide the point and swabbing blood and brain fluid around the incision. He pulled out the drill and inserted the wire, stitched on the interface plug, then attached the external wire.

He then plugged in his own temple implant and thought (Ok, Charlotte, let's see what we have).

(Searching, Mac)

(Ok, take your time, I want to do this one right)

(You were right, Mac. The spider has a fly)

(Well, well, what have we here, mister deputy? Nothing's as interesting as the truth. Let's stimulate this dream, Charlotte. Time for your little canoe trip into the heart of darkness, deputy. Squeal like a pig, boy)

. . .

"Mac, what did you say to that guy?" asked Smaque. They were in the mess hall, floating over a table of bite size pizza slices and squeeze bottles of beer.

"He decided to give our ship a clean report, so no further inspections will be needed. I convinced him we weren't secret agents making a missile. Plus, I don't think he particularly wants my computer files searched."

"He seemed kind of tense leaving. And a little distracted."

"I imagine he'll be resigning from the force soon and looking for other options. He was probably thinking of that."

"Well, let's just leave that one alone. Gosh I love that music." Smaque's favorite Elvis song was playing:

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in,

But I can't help

Falling in love with you.

"Sorta reminds me of all the stupid things I've done. Well, I'm so glad I got you guys."

"Smaque, you get any weepier, I'll put on Stand By Your Man." said Mac.

"You do and I'll squirt this PBR up your nose. Course, you'd probably like the attention."

"How about one for our Vulcan guest. I think some Johnny Cash would be nice." Mac pushed a button on the juke box.

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine.

I keep my eyes wide open all the time.

Smaque, Mac, and Roland laughed till they cried.

"So this is human friendship," said Malik.

7

Timescape

The E Pluribus Unum was prepared for its first warp flight, a small test within the solar system. Smaque was in the pilot's chair, Malik at the engineer's station on the bridge managing the warp field, and Mac and Roland were strapped in behind, watching.

"I'm establishing a warp field," said Malik. "I must generate the field slowly. Uneven ripple propagation could damage the ship or affect the trajectory. We will also have to come out of warp slowly."

A Vulcan ship dropped out of warp close by.

"How'd they know where we were?" yelled Smaque.

"They can detect warp signatures," said Malik. "I thought their search area would be so great that when they detected us, it would be several hours before they could get here. They deduced our probable position and were searching more closely than I anticipated. If you go to warp, they can trace our path from this range."

"Let's play chicken," said Smaque. "What if we go right at 'em and force 'em to veer away? Can they still track our flight?"

"It may work; they won't be able to swing their sensors quickly enough if we surprise them."

Smaque moved the E Pluribus Unum around til it was facing directly at the Vulcan ship. She powered the fusion engines up to two Gees.

Looking at the telescope monitors, Malik said, "They know what we are doing. They are turning out of our path right now. We must act quickly."

"Engage," said Smaque.

Blurred multicolored lines of light streamed behind the stars out the windows. Directly ahead they could see only a hazy whiteness. They felt the motion of the two Gee acceleration, but since every particle in the warp field moved uniformly with the warp engine, warp produced no extra sense of motion.

Suddenly they veered to one side.

"They shot off one fusion engine skirt with a laser and we got an automatic shutdown of that engine," said Smaque. "Damn good shooting. I can't read a course. Malik, is the warp field ok?"

"Yes, but our speed and direction have changed. I have to recalculate the ripple propagation to take us out of warp. I don't know how fast we're going, or in what direction, or how long before we can stop."

"Mac, you better give Wilbur some slop. He's gonna be doing a lot of astrometrics," said Smaque with a sigh.

. . .

They were floating in the mess hall.

Smaque said,"So, Mac and Malik. We're completely lost." It was more a statement than a question.

"I can only calculate our maximum possible distance from earth. Within that sphere, we could be anywhere," said Malik.

"I can't identify the constellations. Even with Malik's information. We may have gone further than even the Vulcans."

"That's the most likely explanation, since I could not safely bring us out of warp for 40 hours."

"Well, we have plenty of time for a logical solution, Malik," said Roland. He thought how unimportant their differences were now.

"When the obvious solutions are not tenable, then whatever remains, no matter how unlikely, must be correct," said Malik. "We do not wish to remain where we are, though this ship could support us indefinitely. We cannot travel in space toward any useful destination. Therefore, we must travel in the remaining dimension, that of time."

"Can Vulcans build time machines?" said Smaque.

"No, this ship can travel in time, at least in one direction. Forward. We hibernate, send out a continuous distress call, and when Vulcans or humans or both explore this sector in the future, they will find us. Unless another species does so first."

"Hot damn," said Smaque. "The fusion generators can go for centuries. We can get the ship ready to sleep in about a week, get everything nailed down, dump the perishables and so on."

"My knight in shining armor," chuckled Roland.

. . .

Roland was in his glass-covered hibernation bed drifting into unconsciousness. He thought: Maybe I'll get to see what's become of all the Daschers in a few hundred years. My precious little boy. And his mind seemed to fly into the cosmos in streams of sparkle.