EARTHGATE

J. BRIAN CLARKE





"We have a problem," Peter Digonness said.
"Don't we all." Gia Mayland was in no mood to be sympathetic. She was still smarting because of the abrupt recall that had brought her from a beach in the Bahamas.
"It's about our search for the Earthgate," the Deputy Director of Expediters went on. "It seems someone does not want us to find it."
Gia raised a delicate eyebrow. "Now isn't that interesting."
He frowned. "More than you think. Jules Evien was murdered yesterday."
"Oh my God." Her face white, she sat down. "How?"
"Very neatly. At long range with a laser rifle. Strictly a professional job."
There was a silence. Stricken, Gia was remembering an old lover and a good friend. Then, "Could it have been for another reason? Other than Earthgate?"
"I doubt it. Jules is the third member of the Earthgate team to expire within the last two years. Heidi Jonson fell off a mountain in the Canadian Selkirks. Lynn Quoa died of apparently natural causes in a Denver hospital. Three out of the original even who drew the assignment." Digonness shook his head. "Pretty long odds, Gia."
"But that makes Jules's murder a pretty stupid blunder, doesn't it? Now you are suspicious enough to wonder about what happened to those other two."
"The murderer was pressed for time. Three days from now, Jules is scheduled for deep sleep aboard the Farway. I told him I thought we had been concentrating too much on the Earth end, and he agreed. He was going to set up an investigation on the Shouter."
Brown eyes blank with thought, Gia slumped back in her chair. The Shouter, the instantaneous gateway to nearly twenty thousand destinations throughout the galaxy, was six hundred light years and twenty six months travel time from Earth. For Earth's sorely crowded billions, the Shouter was the access to unrealized dreams; a way to empty lands under clean skies and by unpolluted seas. But the waiting time was long; currently nearly twelve years to gain passage on one of the few dozen phase ships capable of making the trip. Millions more would undoubtedly apply if they did not have to wait a large portion of a lifetime just to get on a ship. So as long as that transportation bottleneck existed, the dream of Earth's being able to reduce its population to something less than bearable limits would remain a fantasy.
Her eyes strayed to the famous "Earthgate Summary," framed and hung on the wall above the D.D.'s desk. Ornately lettered and presented to Digonness before he was transferred back to Earth from the Shouter, the Summary was a constant reminder that:
Item: Someone, somewhen, somehow, established the terminal for an instantaneous galactic transport system almost exactly between the home worlds of the only two known star-faring races.
Item: It takes more than two years for even the fastest ships to reach the Shouter from either of the two worlds.
Item: Of the nearly twenty thousand gates on the Shouter, there are two which do not lead anywhere.
Conclusion: That AAs 6093 and 11852 are the gates to Phuili and Earth.
Questions: Which of the two is Earth's? On Earth, where is the corresponding "Shoutergate"? And how is the system activated?
Neat, concise and definitely logical. But like most of her colleagues in Expediters, Gia accepted the Summary as much on faith as on reason—because if there was any justice in the universe, it simply had to be true. If it were otherwise, populating the thousands of available worlds would be comparable to transferring Earth's deserts a few hundred grains of sand at a time.
Out of nowhere and completely irrelevent to her train of thought, a name popped into Gia's mind. "Transtar," she said.
"I beg your pardon?"
Her eyes widened. "That's it. The motive! Except for a few ships servicing the old worlds, Transtar has committed just about all of its resources to the Shouter run. So if Earthgate is opened up, it'll ruin them. The giant of the business will become a corporate has-been overnight! Can you imagine a better reason to stop our finding Earthgate? Even if it involves murder?"
"Frankly, no," Digonness admitted smoothly. "But with a motive that obvious, Transtar—if they are guilty—will have concealed their involvement behind false leads and middlemen enough to drown an entire army of investigators for years. So forget it, Gia. I did not bring you here to play gumshoe."
"Neither did you bring me here just to tell me bad news!" she shot back. "Or did you?"
He looked at her. After a few moments, Gia's eyes dropped from his steady gaze. "Sorry. I should not have said that."
"No," He said briefly. "You shouldn't." He did something behind his desk and the room darkened. A circle of light appeared and expanded. In the center of the field, set in a red-hued desert under an infinite sky, a huge saucer was balanced horizontally atop an incredibly slender pylon. Above the saucer, a pale sphere of flickering light. "You know what that is, of course," Digonness said.
Gia smiled into the darkness. "You'd fire me if I didn't. Even kinder-schoolers can recognize a stargate."
"Officially still an AA, alien artifact," he reminded her. "That happens to be AA One, my own favorite."
Gia nodded as she remembered the story. Peter Digonness had been one of the early recruits to Expediters; the organization set up to "expedite" scientific cooperation. In the same way a translator facilitates verbal communication, a trained expediter can join a cacophony of scientific specialists into an efficient unity; often in the face of mutual suspicions and misunderstandings. Assigned to the Permanent Earth Research Unit on the Shouter, the young expediter triggered events involving PERU and the nearby Phuili base which were still reverberating across three worlds and into the galaxy. Within days of his arrival, Digonness not only proved to the condescending Phuili that humans are much more than primitives with a lopsided aptitude for technology, but in Partnership with one of the Phuili he also convincingly demonstrated the true purpose of the gigantic AAs—by flying into the light above AA One and instantly arriving at a lovely world now appropriately known as Serendipity.
It made him famous of course. Which was not to the liking of this mild mannered man, who elected to remain on the Shouter while manned and unmanned vehicles began probing the thousands of worlds beyond the AAs. But talent often pushes an individual further than he wants to go, and after unrelenting pressure from Expediters Central on Earth, Digonness finally—though reluctantly—returned home to take charge of the Earthgate search.
He pointed at the holographic image of the AA. "That is the main reason I am convinced we are wasting our time, Earthside. Three kilometers high and two wide—if such a thing exists on this planet, then every human being has been blind for—how many thousand years? OK, so perhaps it's disguised as something else, though God knows what. A thing that big would have to be concealed inside a mountain. The point is, if we don't know what we are looking for, then what are we looking for? If there is an answer at all, it can only be on the Shouter. Which, young lady, is where you come in. I want you to go in Jules's place."
Gia was not surprised. She and Jules were the only two who had been recruited into Expediters from the World Union Council's Security Service, so it was natural that the Deputy Director would seek her investigative talents. Nevertheless she decided to play cautious.
"To do what?"
"I would think that is pretty obvious. I want you to find out how to open the Earthgate."
She frowned. "Not what I would call a modest assignment."
Digonness folded his hands together and leaned forward on his desk. His gray eyes were intent, probing. "Believe me, if I could assign this mission to myself, I wouldn't hesitate. I have friends on the Shouter, of both races. But in their wisdom, the powers that be have decided the answer is on this planet, and that I must continue to direct the search. But at least I was able to persuade them to assign one of Farway's sleep tanks to Expediters, so you won't have to put up with two years of boredom aboard an interstellar people-freighter. And because you have no close relatives—"
"—or emotional entanglements," Gia interrupted with a smile. "But you know that, don't you?"
Digonness looked slightly embarrassed. "I could not be sure of course. But I'm glad you confirmed it."
"That's nice of me," the girl said sadly.
"Dammit Gia, I'm offering the opportunity of a lifetime! Whoever or whatever put the AAs on the Shouter obviously intended them to be used. Which means that in some logical way there must exist a switch to turn on one of the two blank AAs to Earth. I'm even willing to lay down hard money that that switch is there for the eye to see, in full view. So please girl, use your special talents to find it. huh? Turn on the Earthgate!"



Sleep tanks were such hugely expensive and complex pieces of equipment, most emigrants to the new worlds still had to suffer through more than two years of confined existence aboard one of the fleet of ships built specifically for the Shouter run. So when Gia Mayland was revived a week before the Farway arrived off the Shouter, she was not surprised at the hostility of her fellow passengers. The fact she was an expediter made little difference. That once glamorous profession was now merely respectable, another way to make a good living. But the hostility was not really a hardship. The crew were cooperative, and in any case Communications had a backlog of tachyon-wave messages for her. Most were routine, though the most recent one from the Deputy Director was ominous.
UP TILL RECENTLY WE HAVE REMAINED COMPLETELY BAFFLED IN THE MATTER OF EVIEN'S DEATH. BUT LAST MONTHS ARREST OF A KNOWN ASSASSIN ON AN UNRELATED CHARGE HAS VERY DEFINITELY RE-OPENED THE CASE. NOT ONLY HAS THE MAN CONFESSED TO JULES'S KILLING. BUT HE REVEALED ENOUGH ABOUT THE MANNER HE RECEIVED PAYMENT TO LEAD US TO A PERSON NAMED JOPHREM GENESE. WHO IS EMPLOYED BY A SALES ORGANIZATION WHICH HAPPENS TO BE A SUBSIDIARY OF—YOU GUESSED IT—TRANSTAR INTERSTELLAR. BEYOND THAT. THE ONLY INFORMATION I HAVE IS THAT GENESE HAS NOT BEEN SEEN OR HEARD FROM SINCE EVEN BEFORE THE ASSASSIN COLLECTED HIS FEE. SO HE COULD BE ANYWHERE ON EARTH. OR PERHAPS OFF IT.
GIA. AS I REMINDED YOU BEFORE YOU SHUTTLED OUT. YOUR PRIMARY MISSION CONCERNS THE EARTHGATE. BUT PERHAPS IT WOULD BE WISE TO LOOK OVER YOUR SHOULDER ONCE IN A WHILE. EVEN TO EXAMINE THE LISTS OF YOUR FELLOW PASSENGERS. I HESITATE TO ADVISE MORE . . . BECAUSE IN THAT GAME YOU ARE MORE QUALIFIED THAN I.
PD.



It was a complication the young expediter would rather have done without. But she appreciated Digonness's warning to "look over her shoulder" occasionally, especially during the weeks until Farway's complement of settlers were shipped out to their various destinations across the galaxy. If nothing untoward happened while the hundreds of families were being processed and prepared for their great adventure, then it was probable nothing would. Unless, there is a crowd to merge into after he has earned his pay, a careful assassin would probably prefer to wait for a safer assignment.
The day before disembarkation, Gia determinedly deposited her worries in temporary storage and settled into one of the observation blisters on the side of the orbiting ship. A few hundred kilometers away, the Shouter's Mars-like landscapes rolled grandly by, the sparks of the stargates resembling randomly scattered tinsel. Even as she watched, she knew aircraft were plunging into those sparks of light and emerging hundreds, thousands, perhaps even a hundred thousand light years away on the far rim of the galaxy. Or perhaps returning, bearing crews who only minutes before had said farewells to those who even now were turning to a new life under an alien sun.
Sunk in revery she did not notice the man who quietly entered the blister and joined her contemplation of this Strangest of worlds. "Fascinating," he said. "Quite facinating."
Startled, she turned. It was not, as she expected, a crewman. He was a drably dressed civilian; plump, totally bald, and with a wide, pink-cheeked smile. Incredibly the smile broadened. "They don't like me either. I'm the other tanknaut."
Gia blinked. Tanknaut? Suddenly his meaning caught on, and she laughed delightedly. "So you are the one? I wondered who I have been sleeping with."
He blushed, like a small boy accused of liking girls. "Sorry we were not introduced. Endart Grimes of P.L.S. —Penders Life Support Systems." He added, as if apologetically. "Once in a while we do use our own products."
She accepted his hand. His grip was firm. "Gia Mayland. I'm with Expediters."
"Ah." He looked at her with interest. "Expediters. Wasn't Peter Digonness one when he—?" He gestured at the planet.
"He was. Now he's my boss." Curiously, Gia asked. "Are you heading for one of the new worlds?"
He shook his head. "Unfortunately no. I am merely an unattached person who can afford a few years away from Earth while I check out a few refinements in our . . . ah . . . process." He frowned. "Too bad it remains so damned complicated and cumbersome as well as expensive."
"Can't that be changed?"
The fat man shrugged. "Naturally we are trying. Trouble is, the system is not only innately unreliable, it is field unserviceable. So we have split it into eight replaceable modules. With a life expectancy per module of only a few months, that of course means a lot of spares. On this trip for instance, there are thirty such replacement units in the system. Farway's two sleep tanks are, in fact, wired and piped to about one hundred and eighty thousand kilos of equipment. Did you know that?"
"My God." Gia was shocked. "No wonder the colonists are unfriendly!"
Grimes regarded her thoughtfully. "A few days of social ostracism is a small price, I think."
He was right of course. Twenty-six months of communal living in a crowded steel shell was tough for even the most ardent gregarian. So Gia dismissed guilt in favor of gratitude for her good fortune, and settled down again to watch the unfolding scene.
Grimes said, "I understand it is called the Shouter because the emissions of the stargates make it one of the most detectable objects in the galaxy. True?"
"True," Gia agreed.
"Then why isn't the Shouter detectable from Earth?"
Gia sighed. The ignorance of some people. She pointed at a nebula-hazed cluster of stars rising beyond the planet's rim. "The Pleiades. Draw a straight line from here to Sol, and it passes exactly through the middle of those stars. For some peculiar reason, their nebulosity is opaque to the frequencies emitted by the stargates. So the Shouter was not detected until Far Seeker cruised out from beyond the Pleiades' shadow back in twenty-four-oh-six, thirty years ago."
Grimes gazed at the legendary star cluster, so familiar despite its reversed configuration of suns. Then, quietly:
"So perhaps the Pleiades is the reason there cannot be an instantaneous transport link to Earth. An Earthgate. What do you think, Ms. Mayland?"



It took eight shuttle trips to Ferry Farway's hundreds of passengers down to the surface, which again did not endear Gia to those who knew she had ridden one of the P.L.S. tanks and now saw her assigned to the first flight. But she had become used to their resentment, though she wished she were free to disclose her mission so she could turn some of that hostility into friendship. Even Endart Grimes, despite his affability, had seemed oddly distant—a bland exterior that did not match what she sensed was behind the man's pale blue eyes. In any case he was not on the shuttle, so she supposed he had surrendered his priority so he could tinker within the maze of plumbing and electronics that served the two life suspension chambers.
A few minutes after the shuttle rode its jets down to a gentle touchdown, two pressurized buses coupled to the exit locks and everyone cautiously filed into the transparent-topped vehicles. As her bus began to bump along the graveled road toward the semi-underground complex of the Colonization Authority's Reception Center, Gia gazed across a rocky plain at the domes and pyramids of the Phuili base. Some of those graceful structures were centuries old, yet they all gleamed a crisp white under the light of the Shouter's distant sun. About halfway between the base and the Center, incongruous in its straightlaced economy of construction, the four-story home of PERU rose slab-sided against the sky.
Somewhere there was a throaty roar, and suddenly a broad-winged shape rose into sight from behind the Center. It accelerated swiftly, climbing higher and then banking toward the sun. Shading her eyes, Gia saw the incredible structure toward which the aircraft was heading: the vast saucer, the almost line-thin pylon that supported it. The sun was too bright for her to see the sphere of light that was the actual stargate, and for the same reason she did not see the aircraft enter. But the rumble of jets ceased as if cut by a switch, and Gia knew yet another load of passengers had arrived at a distant world.
"Where did it go?" shrilled a child's voice. "Mamma, where did it go?"
"To a place called Serendipity, dear."
"Is that where we're going?"
"No, dear. We are going to New Kent."
"Why aren't we going to Serendiddy?"
"Because it's not New Kent," the mother replied testily, and left it at that. But in her mind, Gia continued the explanation.
Because Serendipity was the first world to be reached through a stargate, humans and Phuili jointly decided that it would remain as they found it, unsettled and unspoiled. Scientists were on that aircraft, perhaps a few media people and even some tourists. But they will not be allowed to stay. In weeks, or at the most, months, they must reemerge out of AA One just as Peter Digonness and his Phuili companion did eighteen years ago. It's not such a bad trade, really. One world for thousands . . . .



Genevieve Hagan, the Assistant Research Administrator of PERU, was a small woman with intense green eyes. Rumor was that she and Peter Digonness had had something going during his years on the Shouter, and somehow Gia thought that quite fitting. Aside from her undoubted charm and keen intelligence, the A.R.A. also had an outgoing femininity that would have been the perfect complement to Digonness' reputed reserve.
After instructing the new arrival always to address her as "Jenny," the A.R. A. returned behind her desk, shuffled a few papers and shyly asked, "How is Peter? Is he holding up behind that Earth-bound desk of his?"
"He's trying to. But he did tell me he would prefer to be on the Shouter."
Jenny nodded. "We wish he could be." Gia noticed the unconscious emphasis of "We." I think she still misses the man. Even after more than three years! Abruptly the softness firmed and the green-eyed woman became the cool professional. "Now then. You received Peter's message about Jophrem Genese?"
"It was given to me after I was revived."
"Then you understand why I ask this question. Did anyone aboard Farway seem particularly interested in you?"
Gia smiled. "The other tanknaut."
"Tanknaut?"
"The man in the other tank. Endart Grimes of P.L.S."
"Oh, I see. Yes, I know about Grimes. But I was thinking more along the lines of someone connected with Transtar."
Gia frowned. "That's a bit unlikely, isn't it? If Transtar wants to stop us finding the Earthgate, their agent is hardly likely to advertise his connection by being listed as one of their own."
"He'd have no choice. Other than Grimes and yourself, the only people from the Farway who don't work for Transtar are the colonists. And they will be confined to the Center until they are shipped out."
"So if Genese—or whoever—was aboard, he has to be a member of the crew. Is that it?"
The older woman pushed a file across the desk. "Here are the idents of all fifty-two crew members. Also a likeness of Jophrem Genese, facsimiled from Central a few months ago."
Gia flipped open the file. On the top. a head and shoulders picture of a thin faced man with dark skin and slightly protuding eyes. She leafed through the rest of the sheets, each a single page summary with a small picture of the person described. The only one who even slightly resembled the thin faced man, was a female crew member.
"Not much help, is it?" Jenny said.
Gia closed the file and handed it back to the A.R.A. "I am here to find the Earthgate," she said firmly. "I don't intend to be diverted by some hypothetical mystery man."
Thoughtfully, the A.R.A. studied the young expediter. "I'd take Peter's warning quite seriously. Whatever else he is. he is definitely not the paranoid type."
"I know. And believe me, I intend to take all the basic precautions. But beyond that, I will be working full time on my primary assignment."
"Well, it's your decision of course." Jenny balanced the file in one hand for a moment, then dropped it into a drawer and closed the drawer with a slam of finality. "Now that's done with—I hope—let's you and I get down to specifics. How can PERU help Gia Mayland find the Earthgate?"
"For a start, Gia Mayland needs updating," Gia replied promptly. "I have been somewhat out of touch during the last couple of years."
Jenny chuckled. "So you have. OK, two words. Nothing new."
Gia was astonished. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"
"What did you expect? Digger continues to spend government money looking for what he knows cannot be found, while on the Shouter we don't have the resources even to start looking. But I am glad you are here, because I also happen to agree with Digger that the answer—if there is one—is on the Shouter. Which is, I am afraid, my devious way of telling you not to expect too much from us. With all the teams going out from here, PERU is already spread far too thin.
Gia shrugged. "Which means we'll do what we can with what we've got, I suppose. Which is—?"
"Use of our T-Com facilities, of course. I have already arranged fifteen minutes of open channel for you once every day at sixteen hours. It's expensive, but at least you will be able to keep in touch with Peter and the rest of the high-priced talent at E Central. Further to that, I have assigned someone to be your guide and helper. Meet Galvic Hagan."
He must have been waiting outside, because he walked in almost before the A.R.A. had released the key on the intercom. He was young, sturdy, and red haired. And his grin was infectious. "Is this the lady. Ma?"
The A.R.A. sighed. "Don't you think that joke's getting a little thin?" She looked apologetically at Gia. "He is not even related. But somehow he has got half the people here thinking I am his mother." She shuddered. "God forbid."
"Poor lady doesn't know what she's been missing," the young man. said, shaking Gia's hand. He stepped back and eyed her critically. "Have you eaten lately?"
Gia knew what he meant. "The sleep tanks are not one hundred percent efficient," she explained. "I guess I lost a little weight."
He nodded. "Then I suggest we go down to the commissary and put some substance back on that nice bod of yours. Between mouthfuls you can ask any question you like, and if we're both lucky I may come up with some right answers."
"Good idea," Jenny agreed. "Gia, take it easy for the rest of the day. Have Vic show you around the facility and introduce you to people. And then get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, you will meet David."
"David?"
"Oh, didn't I mention him? He is your Phuili opposite number here. His job is to find the Phuiligate."



"David" was short and humanoid, with a pink-fleshed canine head. Gia's first reaction to the little alien was to be nervous and at the same time curious, though, negative feelings soon evaporated under the scrutiny of the large eyes, which were violet in color with a hint of humor in their depths. Also, the clasp of the rough-skinned hand with its two fingers and two opposed thumbs, was friendly. "I am Davakinapwottapellazanzis," he announced in a rapid flow of syllables. "But to human fwiends, I am David."
Gia licked her lips. How does one make conversation with a being who looks like an upright bull terrier? "Er . . . have you been on this assignment very long?"
"Since five of your monz. I come to Shouter after not finding gate on Phuili."
"Do you think there is a gate on Phuili?"
"If zere is gate on Shouter, zere is gate on Phuili. But not get much help on Phuili."
For a moment Gia did not understand.. Vic looked just as uncomprehending, while Jenny merely shrugged and allowed herself a slight smile. They were in the A.R.A.'s office, the alien perched awkwardly on a low stool brought in to accomodate his dimunitive short-legged frame. Trying to ignore the two interested spectators, the expediter looked directly into the violet eyes. They stared back unwinking. "Do you mean that other Phuili are not interested enough to help? Or that there was direct opposition?"
David looked puzzled. At least, it was the impression given by a slackening of his flexible muzzle. "Not understand. What mean opposition?"
Gia carefully explained. "If the Phuiligate is found, there will be no further need for the ships and crews that journey between your world and the Shouter. Wouldn't those who run the ships want to stop you?"
The "puzzlement"—if that was what it was—deepened. "If gate found, ships go ozer places. Cwews go where ships go."
Is greed peculiarly human? Gia wondered, ashamed of her race's larcenous instincts and envious of Phuili innocence. But romantics do not make good expediters, and she quickly realized that simplistic judgements are self defeating as well as downright silly. Because the Phuili were subject to the same natural laws as humanity, then somewhere down the line they had undoubtedly learned the same lesson: that angels are for the next universe, not the harsh realities of this one.
It was as if David were reading her thoughts. "Phuili develop over long time. Phuili young few, so planet still have much woom. Old ways not need to change. Yet gate will change old ways because much will come fwom outside. Humans cwowded, zey need new worlds. Not Phuili. We go only to look. Not to stay."
Even Genevieve Hagan was surprised. In her years of dealing with the Phuili, never could she remember such a confession of unease; like a hermit fearing his castle of solitude is about to be invaded by hordes of tourists. Undoubtedly David's "much will come in fwom outside" was a reference to humans, those—by Phuili standards —unpredictable beings with their unholy devotion to change. At the same time, however, the little alien's disjointed statement was also a contradiction.
The A.R.A. was not the only one who recognized the contradiction. "If the Phuili did not want the gate," Gia said puzzledly, "then why, David, do you seek to open it?" Even as she asked the question she sensed distress where earlier there had been humor. It was a strange feeling. Even with people, she had never been able to sense mood like she seemed to be doing with this little alien.
David's reply echoed the mood. "Humans use gate even if Phuili not," he said sadly. "Soon zis zen become human galaxy. Maybe Phuili ways saved, but Phuili people lost."
Phuili people lost. Perhaps it was his awkward use of the human language, but nevertheless it conjured a poignant image of an ancient race relegated to a galactic backwater. Gia was beginning to appreciate the dilemma faced by the Phuili, the "go" or "no go" situation which was almost Aristotelean in its terrible simplicity. Either to accept the challenge offered by the gates and as a consequence endure the shattering effects of change on the fragile underbody of their monolithic society, or to turn inward and eventually be humbled into obscurity by a species that was still living in caves when the Phuili culture had already matured into something resembling its present form.
The expediter moved closer to the Phuili and the mood of distress intensified. It surrounded him like an invisible aura, a form of communication as alien as he was. Telepathy, she wondered? David, do you understand me? Can you read what I am thinking?
There was no answer. Only the sorrow.



Despite Vic Hagan's protests, Gia borrowed a runabout and went out on her own the next day. After bordering the shuttle landing complex, the graveled road terminated a few kilometers farther on below the huge bowl of AA One. The bowl was supported by a three-kilometer pylon that was so slender it seemed barely capable of supporting itself, let alone the mass that loomed incredibly overhead. For a while Gia sat in the artifact's shadow, not thinking of anything in particular but letting impressions soak gradually into her brain. At this stage she did not expect to learn anything scientists on at least three worlds did not already know, but she knew this small pilgrimage marked the true beginning of her mission. Finally she clambered out of the runabout and wandered around for a while, uncomfortable in her pressure suit but happily enjoying the same feelings of awe Peter Digonness had undoubtedly experienced when he first came.
It was difficult to think of appropriate superlatives. The sheer scale of the enormous artifact was such that, though the pylon seemed incredibly frail from a distance, the close-up sixty-eight meters across its base suggested the comfortable solidity of a concrete monument. It had already been explained to Gia that the faint marks impressed on the smooth gray surface up to about the three-meter level, were in fact as much as Phuili science could do in an attempt to remove a material sample for analysis. It was while she was marveling at this unbelievable resistance to even the sun-heat of a laser torch, that Gia became aware of a second vehicle parked near her own, and a stolid human figure trudging toward her. She waited, irritated at this intrusion yet curious as to the stranger's identity.
"How do you do," a familiar voice puffed in her helmet phones. "Guess we're both doing what all the new people do when they first come to the Shouter. Right, Ms. Mayland?"
She smiled. "Right, Mr. Grimes. When did you come down?"
"On the early morning shuttle. And please call me Endart. Or even En if you like to be so informal. I don't mind."
Is he kidding? "And I'm Gia," she said politely. She waited as Grimes stared at the AA, then agreed as he voiced an appropriate expression of awe. Suddenly something reminded her of a remark he had made yesterday, in the Farway observation blister. Strange it had not registered before, but how in • blazes had he known about the Earthgate? She asked him.
The question puzzled him. "Why is Heaven called Heaven? You may not believe in it, but it has to have a name just so you can identify what you don't believe. Right? Anyway, I know I saw "Earthgate" mentioned somewhere. Or heard it. I'm a bit of a sucker for that kind of thing, you know. Ghosts, Atlantis, UFO's, even the Bermuda Triangle. Nonsense of course, but fun. Guess I'm a bit of a romantic at heart."
It was a very human explanation. Not too glib and therefore having a ring of truth. So Gia decided not to pursue the matter. In any case Expeditiers did not own title to the somewhat unimaginative term "Earthgate," which to the uninformed could mean a lot of things, real or otherwise. It seemed Digonness's warning about the mysterious Jophrem Genese had affected her more than she realized, and she wondered if she were becoming paranoid.
Not if I can help it, she told herself grimly.
However, the subject was not so easily dropped. Grimes's curiosity had been piqued. "Why did you ask that? Is it possible there is such a thing as an Earthgate? Are you somehow involved?"
Gia tried not to overreact. "Of course not. As you said, it's nonsense. My job is to expedite, not to spend public money chasing fantasies."
He seemed relieved. "How glad I am to hear that. So what are you currently . . . ah . . . expediting?"
The man was becoming a nuisance. "Not very much at the moment. We're waiting for one of the teams to come in, from Gaylord. it's apparently one of the better worlds, though no decision to colonize will be made until we have evaluated the team's report. Believe me, Endart, being a sort of scientific mediator is only part of my work. The rest is mostly dull routine, as in any profession." Gia began to walk back to her runabout, and after a moment's hesitation Grimes hurried after her.
At the vehicles, he turned again to the towering AA. "Such a shame really," he murmured. "All those thousands of worlds, as accessible from the Shouter as stepping through a doorway. While on our poor, overcrowded Earth ..." Shaking his head, he clambered into his runabout, waved and drove off. Like a careless tourist he had forgotten to turn off his transmitter, and his muttering remained even after he was no more than a cloud of dust.
". . . such a shame. Such a terrible, terrible shame ..."



Gia asked for photographs. Of AA One, and of 6093 and 11852. Galvie Hagan delivered them to her and watched curiously as she spread the prints in three groups on the library table. "Comparing?" he asked.
"No, I just like looking at pretty pictures," she said irritably after she had arranged the collection to her satisfaction.
"It's already been done, you know."
Gia picked up one of the prints and held it closer to the light. "So?"
He spread his hands. "So nothing was found. Every AA on this planet is exactly the same as every other AA. Same dimensions, same markings, even the same spectral signatures."
"Hmm." Though she was not about to admit it, Gia knew the young man was right. She had slept badly the previous night and was feeling physically and mentally sluggish. At that moment fresh ideas seemed as rare as a Sahara iceberg. Again she looked at the print in her hand. It was of 6093, one of the two non-functioning AAs. "Vic."
"Yes ma'am."
She pointed at the light above 6093. "Have you flown through that? Or through the one above eleven-eight-five-two?"
He nodded. "Several times. Through both."
"What does it feel like?"
He shrugged. "Same as any other AA. We just didn't get anywhere, that's all."
"Vic, I have only heard Digger's description of the sensation. I want to know if it is the same for everyone. So let me repeat the question. As you are transported through a stargate, what does it feel like?"
"OK. Now I get you." Vic considered a moment. "It's being torn apart and then squeezed together again, that's what it feels like. But like everything else you get used to it."
"Are you a pilot? I mean, of an aircraft?"
He blinked at the abrupt change of subject. "Sure. Where do you want to go?"
She glanced at the wall map. "To six-oh-nine-three, I think. It's the closest, isn't it?"
"A tad under six hundred klicks. About seventy minutes flight time."
"Arrange it as soon as possible. For tomorrow, if you can. I would also like to take David along."
Vic shook his head. "Sorry. Both ships are already booked for tomorrow." He glanced at his watch. "But what's wrong with now? There is still time to give you two or three hours of daylight at the site." As he spoke he turned to the com unit and punched a three-digit number.
"Phuili." said an alien voice.
"Is that David?"
"Not David."
"This is Hagan. I am about to fly Gia Mayland to six-oh-nine-three. She wants David to come."
"David come." There was a click as the Phuili broke contact.
"Just like that?" Gia asked, surprised. "Don't they even think to ask him if he's free?"
Hagan chuckled as he held the door open. "That is something else you'll have to get used to. Though to us the Phuili may act like individuals, sometimes they seem parts of one organism"
She stopped close to him. Though he knew she was at least ten years older, he felt a sudden protectiveness. He swallowed. "They're aliens," he said.
She nodded, thoughtfully. "As we are to them."



David met them as they pushed the aircraft out of the hangar. Clad in a silvery pressure suit with an elongated helmet, he looked more like a cuddly space toy than a member of a species older than man. But his assistance as he and the young human male unfolded and locked the wings was that of an experienced professional. Which was not surprising considering the machine was a human adaptation of an original Phuili design. Finally the ill-assorted three-some strapped themselves into the narrow cockpit, and with a surge from its jets the Eloise Three floated smoothly into the thin air.
Though seemingly a frail assembly of tubing and stretched plastfilm, this was actually a rugged and durable craft that had already proved its worth on hundreds of flights. Nevertheless Gia found herself breathing a little easier as they approached the slender column below AA 6093. "Can we spiral downward from the bowl?" she asked the pilot as she readied her camera.
"No problem," Vic replied, resetting the controls. As they entered into the enourmous bowl's shadow, he tilted the machine into a slow descending circuit. Gia started taking her pictures, carefully spacing the shots to encompass all four sides of the pylon from bowl to base.
"You zink you find what ozers not find after doing same?" David asked interestedly from the rear seat.
"The pictures I have seen were all taken from the ground," Gia said, clicking away. "Nothing from this close, or from this angle."
"Still same," the Phuili commented.
He was probably right. Though the camera was the state of the art in electronic imaging, Gia suspected the ground based holograms contained as much information in four shots as she could obtain with dozens. But such was the strangeness of this world, she had decided that yesterday's truth is not necessarily today's. Digonness's own early experiences on the Shouter had demonstrated the fragility of several rigidly-held absolutes, and Gia was immodest enough to allow the possibility that she could also fracture a few. Especially if she found the Earthgate.
As they finally sped away from the pylon a few meters above the barren ground, Vic guided Eloise Three into a wide climbing turn. "Do you want to go through the light?"
"Of course. It's one of the reasons we're here, isn't it?"
"OK. But be warned. For first timers, it ain't pleasant."
"I'm aware of that." Gia remembered how Digonness had described it. It's being exploded apart, spread all over the universe and then being imploded together again. She turned to the other passenger. "Have you done this before?"
"Not wiz zis one. AA One only. Because zis AA not work, I wonder if hurt same. I come to compare."
Still same, Gia was tempted to say facetiously, having already been told by just about everyone in PERU that the "hurt" was equally unpleasant whichever AA one went through. But that was only the human experience. Perhaps to Phuili senses there would be a difference, though how that knowledge could help the search was problematical. In any case, how does one describe a subjective impression to an alien? She doubted David could do that anymore than she could.
Again she remembered Digonness. I'm willing to bet hard cash the switch is there to see, he had told her. Well, maybe. But if he was right, then something had recently changed. Otherwise, she did not doubt the magic toggle would have been found long ago. She patted the camera. So perhaps her picture-taking made some sense after all.
They were above the bowl now, about a kilometer away and turning toward the pale radiance that shimmered above it like concentrated electricity. The bowl's inner surface was the most intense black she had ever seen, an effect infinitely more than a mere absense of light. Despite her heated suit, Gia shivered. Nevertheless, even before Galvic Hagan's exuberant "Tally Ho!" as he dove Eloise Three into the light, she was already taking more shots, hoping the camera could cope with the incredible contrasts of the unreal scene. Her concentration was so intense, it was almost unexpected when everything vanished in a sudden blaze of radiance.
". . . ohhhh—!"
Seconds, minutes, or perhaps years later—her confused senses seemed momentarily flung aside from time—AA6093 was behind them as the aircraft hummed smoothly through the thin air. Digonness, and more recently Vic, had tried to describe how it felt, but Gia now knew that words would always be totally inadequate to describe what she had just experienced. In real space and time she supposed they were a few kilometers and two or three minutes beyond the gate, in the same sky and above the same desert where they had entered. But deep inside herself Gia knew without doubt that they had been elsewhere, that within the span of a moment they had journeyed beyond the universe and returned.
"Shall we do it again?" Vic asked cheerfully.
"Yes," Gia replied, surprising herself. "Yes!"
He swung around in his seat, and even behind the helmet visor he saw his astonished face. "You're kidding!" Then, plaintively, "Aren't you?"
"I too want do again," David said. "But also I zink we stop inside light for while. You have auto?"
Even Gia was shocked by the request. To extend that ultra-schizoid splitting to a virtual infinity of moments would be worse than the most malevolent concept of hell. That the Phuili could be such a masochist . . .
"When we in six-o-nine-zwee, we go ozer place and come out again. No time between, so in and out one moment. But if auto stay us, zen in and out separwated by short time. Hurt not differwent, just two smallers. We twy?"
. . . or on the other hand, a useful friend to have around. We need a few of his kind in Expediters. Her thoughts whirling at David's penetrating logic, Gia asked, "Can it be done?" My God, perhaps the other place is Earth. Deputy Director Digonness, are you in for a surprise!
The pilot began setting switches. "In, stop, hover for about fifteen seconds, and then out again. If I could set it for as low as five seconds, I would. At least she'll stay on an even keel for a while, long enough for me—hopefully—to regain my senses. Dammit David, are you expecting this to be the quick way back to Phuili?"
"Iss not logical? But if human world, not matter. Ozer AA zen lead to Phuili."



Fifteen minutes later Eloise Three was parked on the desert a few kilometers from AA 6093. Aboard the aircraft, its pilot and two passengers sat quietly. But their thoughts crackled like lightning.
. . . telepathy for God's sake!
. . . it is what happened to my next level ancestor after he and the human named Digonness first went through AA One.
. . . David! It was your father who was Digger's companion?
. . . it is true. It is also true the thought-speak faded rapidly after they returned to the Shouter. So I suggest most strongly we exchange our impressions before we are also returned to the inadequacies of speech.
. . . I agree. Question. Where were we?
. . . God knows, the pilot thought. But it certainly was not any place I know. Or am likely to.
. . . Galvic dear, it was just too easy to persuade you. Which makes me suspect we were being influenced even before we reentered the gate.
. . . damn right! By every standard I can think of, what we did was insane. But we survived, and now we're yakking like three animated radios.
. . . did you see anything? Feel anything?
. . . see anything, no. Feel anything? Well it's hard to say. I do know I received a pretty lucid message from . . . whoever. For some reason, I am to examine Eloise's tail section.
. . . interesting. Do you know why?
. . . I only know I am supposed to do it before we take off again. Would you believe it. they even knew I'd ground her after re-entry.
. . . it seems they know a lot of things. David pondered a moment. Gia. do you agree there were other entities?
. . . absolutely. I even tried to . . . er . . . converse with them.
. . . yes?
. . . I asked about Earthgate.
. . . how strange. I asked about the gate to Phuili.
. . . ahha! Did they answer you? . . . . with an image. Very strong, very clear. It was of a pair of human hands framing a circle. They were smaller hands, smooth. A female's, I think.
. . . mine?
. . . it would seem logical.
. . . all I got was an impression of a white dot.
. . . nothing else?
. . . I did not understand it either. It seems we—
It was not as if a switch had been opened. At least, not exactly. But with breathtaking suddenness the three found themselves returned to their separate shells, their few minutes of warm sharing a fading memory. Galvic Hagan descended from the aircraft and began to inspect the wires and struts of its spidery rear section.
"Am glad it not last more," David said at last.
Gia turned in her seat. "Why?"
"At moment zis one not happy at loss of zought-speak. But zis one also know time make normal. If zought-speak last longer than did, zen I zink time not make normal. Me and you and Hagan stay always in loss."
"I see." Indeed, Gia did see. Like sex, their intimate sharing had been a sweet agony. Literally, a "high." Much longer, and it would have become an addiction for the rest of their lives, like a potent drug with no antidote except the drug itself. And that, she knew, was gone forever.
Her wistful reminiscence was interrupted by an exploded epithet. "Well I'll be. . . !" Muttering angrily, Vic came forward to the cockpit and handed up to her a putty-like blob about as big as a thumb nail. "Bloody murderer!" he snarled.
Gia rolled the substance between gloved finger tips. Her throat was tight. "Explosive?"
"And how! See those little gold flecks? That means it's denzonite, a plastique normally as inert as a stone until it's zapped with a precisely tuned radio signal. It doesn't need a receiver, or a detonator. It's its own trigger."
"Take it please," Gia said, feeling slightly sick. She flinched as she watched him grind the ugly substance into the ground with his boot heel. "We're OK, I hope?"
"We'd better be," Vic said as he returned behind the controls and turned on the power.
"Wait a minute."
He turned. "What now?"
"We took this flight at a moment's notice. Right? So how could—whoever it was—have known? Even which of the aircraft we would use?"
The jets whined and Eloise Three surged upward. "He didn't have to know," the pilot replied as he banked the machine in a wide circle about AA 6093 and then set the course toward home. "Presuming you are the target—which seems entirely likely—it required no great feat of the imagination to figure out you would sooner or later need one of the aircraft. So our nasty friend simply took advantage of an early opportunity and attached a package on both Eloises. By now he certainly knows you are on a flight somewhere, so I presume he and his button are just waiting for us to sail gracefully over the horizon." Vic chuckled. "You know, I feel real bad about how we're going to disappoint him."
"Maybe assassin Phuili," came a quiet comment from the rear seat.
The two humans were astonished. The aircraft wobbled as in his surprise Vic twitched the controls. "Phuili don't do things like that," he said. And then his doubts surfaced. "Do they?"
"Not before," David replied. Sadly, be added, "But zis time Phuili life can change much. I zink some might twy kill to stop change."
It was an astonishing admission. But at that moment Gia was thinking of beings who were neither human or Phuili. Perhaps it would be easier to think of them as gods: all-seeing and all-powerful, as much cognizant of the rules which guide the universe as they were of a sabotage device aboard Eloise Three.
The mysterious entities beyond the AA were apparently benign beings. But if human and Phuili were being manipulated—even for their own good—where did that leave free will? The joy of achievement and discovery?
Behind them the sun sank below the horizon as the aircraft raced over a shadowy landscape rapidly deepening to blackness. Stars were appearing in numbers and brilliance far beyond that which could be seen from under Earth's dusty skies, but the mind of the human female was being turned inward, away from the external world.
Whatever their powers, they are nevertheless mortal.
Coming from within herself though not originating with herself, the statement was a true one. Gia did not know why she knew that, but she had no difficulty accepting it as incontrovertible fact. It had a corollary: that because the entities were physical beings, then like most life forms they had originated in the organic soup of some primeval ocean. They had traveled the same road man and Phuili were now traveling, so knew the value of the painful learning experience which is true progress.
Then why their intercession?
Because for us, there were no others.
The rise to intelligence of the entities had been a freakish circumstance during the dawning eons of the galaxy. Life should not have happened but did, on a world on which evolution somehow avoided the side-tracks, dead ends, and natural catastrophes that make normal evolution a spasmodic sequence of fits and starts. So when they looked for their peers among the stars, they found they had arrived too soon; that only a mere handful of primitive life-bearing worlds existed among literally thousands that were still condensing from the accretion discs of countless young solar systems.
With "others" there could have been a new view point, an exciting consensus of opposites. It was a special mathematics in which two is infinitely greater than one—an equation which for the entities was tragically incomplete. So a decision was made. If they could not be part of that equation . . .
. . . they would become the mathematician.



The equation was now—finally—almost complete.
Man plus Phuili.
The new duality.



"Interesting," the A.R.A. said after Gia had finished.
Gia nervously bit her underlip. "Don't you think it's a bit more than that?"
"Perhaps." Green eyes thoughtful, the older woman leaned back in her chair. "Well, Galvic? What do you have to say about all of this?"
The young man shrugged. "I'm not so sure about the last part. But the rest I can vouch for. Especially the telepathy. That's how they told me about the denzonite."
"As I said. Interesting." Jenny held up a speckled blob. "This was found in the tail section of Eloise One." She grinned. "Don't worry. It's been neutralized."
"It had better be!" He took the blob and looked at it sourly. "I don't know how much you know about this stuff, but even a few molecules are pretty potent."
"Oh yes." Wickedly, "The scorch marks on your aircraft prove that."
Vic stared. "Then he . . . it . . ." Abruptly he subsided. "Oh what the hell."
Gia shared the sense of narrowly avoided disaster. "They saved our lives, you know." She shivered. "Wish I knew who. Or what. And who did—?" She gestured at the substance in Vic's hand. As if it had suddenly aquired legs and a sting, he threw it down on the corner of the A.R.A.'s desk. It adhered obscenely.
"Second question first," Jenny said. She produced a photograph. "Gia, do you remember this person?"
The girl studied the picture. "You showed this to me before. Isn't she one of Farway's crew?"
"That's right. Carmen Klaus is the one with a family resemblance to Digger's mysterious Mr. Genese."
"Now I remember." Gia looked up. "So?" .
"A few hours ago, Klaus booked out a runabout and was last seen heading toward Pock Hill."
"Yes?"
"Pock Hill is an excellent vantage
point in the direction of six-oh-nine-threc."
Gia's stomach did a flip. "Interesting," she said, in unconscious parody of the A.R.A.'s recent reaction. Not so restrained, Galvic let out a long whistle. "A woman, by God!" He spread his hands wide. "And why not?"
A good question. Gia felt she could kick herself for overlooking the possibility. History after all was full of accounts of women impersonating men and getting away with it, sometimes for years. So it seemed one riddle (and presumably its accompanying threat) was finally about to be exorcised.
The A.R.A. could be excused for her air of satisfaction. "I have already dispatched a security patrol," she said, anticipating the obvious question. "I think that is one lady who is about to be withdrawn from circulation for a while."
"Provided she is the assassin of course," Gia said, still faintly tasting sour grapes. She rose to her feet.
"Going somewhere?"
The expediter nodded. "I need to think for a while."
"About how to tell illusion from reality?"
Gia hesitated. "Something like that."
"Your description of the beings' history, their promotion of a "duality" between us and the Phuili. Why didn't Vic pick that up?"
"For the same reason I did not get the message about the denzonite, I suppose," Gia said. "It depended on who was being talked to."
Galvic blinked with surprised realization. "Say, that's right! Whatever was said to us, it was never via an open three way—"
Gia laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Vic, it's not what happened on the other side of the gate that bothers me. It's what happened on this side, during the return flight. If I was not hallucinating, then we and the Phuili are on the verge of something pretty incredible, right? But if I was merely the victim of an over-stimulated imagination, then how do we avoid proving to the Phuili hardliners what they have always preferred to believe—that we humans are not only inferior, but unstable?"
"Did you discuss this with David?" Jenny asked.
"Would you?" Gia retorted.
The A.R.A. regarded the younger woman thoughtfully. "Put yourself in David's shoes. If he picked up the same message, and had the same doubts, do you think he would have discussed it with any human before he talked to his own kind?"
Gia's jaw dropped. "You think. . . ?"
"You think about it," Jenny said.



She was studying the pictures she had taken of 6093, when the little alien entered the lab and watched her for a moment. Then, "I speak Jenny."
Gia turned and looked at him. "About what, David?"
"About ozers ozer side of AA. About humans and Phuili togezer being more zan humans and Phuili not togezer."
Gia had a sinking feeling. "She told you."
"Not twue. I told her." The jaws flexed in the Phuili equivalent of a smile. "Zen she told me."
In her excitement the expediter knocked some of the prints off the table. "Glory," she whispered. "What a day this has turned out to be."
"I wish not tell you until I say to ozer Phuili. After I say, I am told human female perhaps hear same. But not tell me for same weason I not tell her." The large eyes twinkled humorously. "Perhaps humans and Phuili should more twust ozers of each."
"Yes," Gia said fervently. "Oh yes."
With the rolling gait characteristic of his short legs and splayed feet, David walked across the room and picked the prints off the floor. As he handed them to her. he pointed to the top one. "I see zat before."
Putting the others aside, she looked at the print. Showing the bowl as seen from above, it was the one she had been studying when he came in.
"Put the picture on table," the Phuili instructed. "Hold wiz hands as you just doing."
Puzzled, Gia did as he asked. "I don't understand—" Wide-eyed, she stopped. The thumb and index finger of each hand had automatically spread apart, holding the print down by the corners and framing the image of the bowl between. A pair of human hands framing a circle. Smaller hands, smooth . . . It was part of what she would never forget, part of the warmly silent communicating they had shared and then lost. And there was something else.
"A white dot," Gia whispered. "They showed me a white dot."
David nodded. "Me ask about Phuili gate, zey show me circle. You ask gate your world, zey show little dot. What means?"
Gia was staring at an enlarged photograph on the wall of the lab. Apparently put there either as a measure of frustration or because someone had a peculiar sense of humor, it was a rectangle of unrelieved black. She pointed. "I suppose you know what that is."
The alien nodded. "We have same, zough we not waste spaces on walls wiz pictures we know show nozing. Many pictures taken fwom above bowl AA One to twy find twansmitter fwom where energy come. Zat picture and many more taken by wobot flyers vewy close to middle of bowl. Much time waste."
"Perhaps because they were examining the wrong AA," the expediter said, pulling the sensing head of the projection magnifier toward her and carefully inserting the print of AA 6093. She turned on the magnifier, and as the room lights dimmed she began to rotate the zoom control. The round black image swelled beyond the edges of the lab's two-meter screen, causing the room to become stygian as the Shouter's brighter landscape was swallowed beyond the frame. Suddenly, at the center of the screen, a point of light appeared and then diffused as the magnification limit was exceeded. Gia reversed the zoom until the light contracted to a sharp, bright point. "There!" she said triumphantly.



It was more than an hour since Galvic Hagan had dropped out of Eloise One, the jets of his harness brilliant until he vanished beyond the rim of the bowl. Commentary from the pilot of the circling aircraft remained spasmodic, as he flew in as close as he dared to watch Vic's progress, then retreated to a distance where his signal was not completely blanked by 6093's radio interference.
". . . crawled almost up to the edge of the bowl, slow as hell but sure. Seems those adhesion pads really work, huh? Whatever gizmo he found must be pretty small; his abandoned lift harness looking a tot more conscpicuous there in the center. Going back in now . . ."
Undoubtedly he saw Vic step off the edge, but by the time he was able to transmit the news, everyone on the ground was already watching the tiny Figure drift downward under its huge canopy. It took time to descend three kilometers of vertical distance, and when Vic landed it was amid a crowd. But by pre-arrangement everyone held back to allow one human and one Phuili to approach the parachutist.
"Please don't expect me to do that again!" Vic said breathlessly as he returned Gia's hug and clasped David's extended paw. "The harness worked fine, the chute worked even better, but getting up the slope of the bowl—" He shuddered. "Now I know what frictionless means." After discarding the suction discs attached to his knees and elbows, he reached into the voluminous pouch on the front of his suit and withdrew a glittering object about thirty centimeters long. "Here, lady. It's your bauble."
Gia gasped in wonder as she held it. A flat ended cylinder of material which refracted light in brilliant colors, its translucent heart contained a tiny three-dimensional image of an AA. "It's beautiful. But what does it do?"
"S' for you and David to figure that one out," Vic replied with ill-concealed smugness as he watched her pass the object to her Phuili colleague. "But I lay you a hundred to one another of those is in the bowl of eleven-eight-five-two."
"Zat is logical," David agreed as he examined the crystal-enclosed miniature.
By this time the mixed group of humans and Phuili had crowded around, and exclamations of human astonishment were interspersed with Phuili gutturals. David returned the object to Gia and fired a burst of syllables to an attentive member of his own team. Immediately the other Phuili turned about and trotted toward a tiny single-seat aircraft parked apart from the other machines. "He weturn base and awange Phuili mission to ozer AA," David explained to the humans. "Soon we know if same in zat bowl."
"If it is, which I do not doubt," Genevieve Hagan said as she took the object from Gia and held it up to the light, "then our mysterious benefactors will have put two rabbits into the hat." She looked at Gia. "You know, of course, this pretty paper weight was not there a month ago.?"
The expediter nodded. "I've looked at the last series of photographs. Clean as a whistle." Gia turned to David. "Do you mind if we take this back to PERU?"
"You take," the Phuili agreed. "I come talk later."
By this time Eloise One had spiraled down to a dusty landing, and Vic immediately persuaded the pilot to return as passenger on another machine so he himself could fly the two women and the "gizmo" back to PERU. Not unexpectedly nothing was solved during the seventy minute flight, though Gia and Jenny exchanged the trophy at least a dozen times as they attempted to fathom its purpose..
"We'll just have to see what the lab can do with it," Jenny said finally as the cluster of buildings rose over the horizon. She sighed. "Gia, presuming this is Peter's "key"—in full view, as he said—now what? I have an uneasy feeling that instead of an answer we have uncovered an even larger question. And right now my dear, more questions are what I don't need."
The A.R.A.'s foreboding was not misplaced. Two hours later they met in her office and heard a harrassed-looking technician describe a scientific impossibility.
"What ever it is, it certainly isn't matter as we know it," he reported, staring at the object with distaste. "It doesn't chip, it doesn't scratch, and it reacted in absolutely neutral fashion to every frequency I could throw at or through it."
"Solidified energy," Gia murmured, intending to be facetious. Galvic started to chuckle, but subsided as the technician said angrily, "Why not? Tell me Earth's moon really is made of green cheese, or that the universe is smaller than the head of a pin, and right now I won't argue. Because that . . . that . . . thing has screwed up scientific logic in a way nothing short of shameful!" Still red faced, the man stamped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
"Well," Jenny said after a moment.
"The poor chap was almost violent Vic picked up the object and hefted it. "Energy? Green cheese?" He put it back on the desk. "Shameful!"
The A.R.A. smiled, but faintly. "Gia, have you contacted Earth yet?"
"Haven't had a chance." Gia hesitated. "Aside from the fact there has not been enough reason."
"Well there is now, isn't there? And there is the matter of the late Carmen Klaus."
Vic started. "Our denzonite suspect?"
"More than a suspect, I think. She apparently blew herself to bits as you flew over Pock Hill. One of the bits—her hand—was still holding a button transmitter."
"I don't understand—" Gia began.
"I think I do," Vic said. "The stupid broad must still have had some denzonite with her when she tried to blow us out of the sky." He shook his head in disbelief. "Even the best of us make mistakes. But . . . that?"
It had been an awful death, even for one whose trade was bringing death to others, but Gia experienced a lifting of spirits as she realized she was finally free of a disturbing threat. Later, as she sat before a T-Com console, fingers aching from ten minutes of unaccustomed typing, she wondered if she had been out of the security game too long. Expediters were not, after all, supposed to be risk takers, yet for days that ancient bony finger had not been far from her shoulder.
Suddenly a new pattern of lights swept the console and Digonness's reply began tracking across the display:
JOPHREM GENESE'S BEING A WOMAN CERTAINLY EXPLAINS THE EASE WITH WHICH SHE ELUDED ARREST. AT LEAST WE ARE WELL RID OF HER. THOUGH IT IS TOO BAD HER DEMISE HAS EFFECTIVELY SEVERED POSSIBLE LEADS TO HER EMPLOYER. I KNOW WE HAVE OUR SUSPICIONS IN THAT REGARD. BUT SUSPICIONS ARE NOT EVIDENCE. SO PLEASE KEEP THAT PART OF IT TO YOURSELVES FOR NOW.
"Agreed," the A.R.A. murmured. Squeezing into the seat alongside Gia, she typed, THIS IS JENNY. ANY IDEAS OF WHAT TO DO WITH THE GIZMO? SO FAR. IT SEEMS ABOUT AS USEFUL AS A BOOK-END.
WHAT ABOUT THE PHUILI? HAVE THEY RETRIEVED A SECOND UNIT?
NOT YET. BUT I AM CERTAIN IT IS THERE.
IN THAT CASE, SUGGEST TO THEM THEY KEEP THEIR UNIT ON THE SHOUTER THEIR LAB IS LARGER AND BETTER EQUIPPED THAN PERU'S, SO IT IS LOGICAL THEY TACKLE THE PROBLEM USING THEIR SHOUTER-BASED FACILITIES. MEANWHILE SHIP YOUR UNIT OUT ON THE FARWAY. IF THAT THING REALLY IS A KEY. IT IS STILL POSSIBLE THE LOCK IS HERE ON EARTH.
Galvic whistled. "But we'll lose two years! The Phuili could be off and running while the Farway is still this side of the Pleiades!"
MAKE THAT FOUR YEARS. Digonness came back. BECAUSE IF THE ANSWER IS AT YOUR END. THE UNIT WILL HAVE TO MAKE THE ROUND TRIP. NEVERTHELESS I AM CONVINCED WHAT I SUGGEST WILL SERVE THE GREATER GOOD. THINK OF THE PHUILI AS MEMBERS OF A PARALLEL SCIENTIFIC TEAM. NOT AS COMPETITORS.
"What a nice idea," Jenny said. She chuckled. "Now if we could just persuade the Phuili to think the same way."



Later they met with David. The two units, one labeled 6093 and the other marked with a Phuili hieroglyphic, stood side by side on the table. They were identical: the same shimmering yet non-reactive substance of the cylinder, the same tiny AA replica embedded within. Jenny had passed on Digonness's proposal and the response was an extended exchange of gutturals between David and his two Phuili colleagues. Finally, "If we find before ship wetum your world, Phuili gate open much sooner."
"We accept that possibility," the A.R.A. said.
David nodded. There was approval and a hint of respect in his large eyes. "In short time zis way perhaps better for Phuili. But in long time I zink it better for humans and Phuili togezer. Zerefore we agwee."
Just like that. Gia thought her mixed-up feelings were hidden, but she had forgotten the legendary empathetic sense of the Phuili. For the sake of inter-species harmony, Peter Digonness and his Phuili opposite number had long ago concluded an agreement in which the Phuili would respect the human need for emotional privacy, in exchange for human acceptance that "haste" is not in the Phuili lexicon. By definition the human side of the agreement was the more difficult, especially considering the dragging pace of most joint projects. So to say that Gia was surprised at David's alacrity in accepting the proposal, was an understatement. Equally unsettling was the inescapable fact that once the unit from 11852 disappeared into the Phuili research lab, her own role on the Shouter would become redundant. David, recognizing the human female's aura of confusion, and apparently deciding this was a moment to bend the rules, was sympathetic.
"Gia, you not like zis. You not zink we do wight?"
Gia blinked at the little alien. Perhaps it was innate or perhaps it was a residue of what they had shared beyond the AA, but she had no doubt he knew her feelings. And the fact that she knew he knew, hinted at a still open two-way. But she did not mind.
"You are doing what must be done," Gia told David sincerely. She turned to the A.R.A. "It's just that as things start becoming interesting, I find myself sort of—"
". . . out of it?" Jenny queried, her eyes twinkling.
The expediter shrugged. "As far as Earthgate is concerned, anyway."
"Well you are wrong," Jenny said.



Gia was revived as the Farway reentered normal space three days' travel time from Earth. After thirty minutes of painful exercise, followed by an even more painful experience of being required to swallow an evil tasting high-nutrient concoction, she was released, as the medic humorously put it, "under her own recognizance." Forcing unsteady legs to carry her in the direction of the bridge, her steps echoing hollowly along the silent corridors of the nearly empty ship, Gia finally entered inhabited territory in the deck immediately below the cavernous space vessel's humming Control Center.
Suddenly she was startled by a pair of strong arms and a hug. "Vic!" she said, astonished.
Galvic Hagan slackened his hold and grinned. "Welcome to the land of the living."
"Where . . . how . . . ?"
He chucked her under the chin. "Came aboard right after they turned you into a corpsicle, dear." His grin broadened. "By the way, the difference between our ages has narrowed a couple of years. Care to take me on?"
Placing both hands on his chest, she pushed herself away. "Boring couple of years, huh?"
"Not so much. I'm returning home to go back to school. Done a lot of studying."
"Subject?"
"Planetology."
"A good choice," Gia said approvingly. "You already have the field experience, so you should have no trouble—"
"Bless my soul, she's awake!" Beaming, Endart Grimes trotted over and grasped Gia's hand. "Galvic my boy, why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask," the younger man sighed.
"And you, young lady. How do you feel after your second long rest in four years?"
Gia noted the fat man's apparent good health. "Not as up to it as you, I suspect. How do you do it?"
Grimes chuckled. "No miracle. There is still much work to do on the equipment, so I had myself revived several weeks ago." He patted his stomach. "I have had time to catch up."
"But between meals he is always in his workshop," Vic said. "Gia, you should see it. I bet he could build a phase converter if he wanted to!"
Grimes blushed. "Please. I am just a mechanic performing a few modest modifications." He added sadly, "unfortunately, there is still no way I can repair a sour module."
"Don't be so bashful, man. You're an artist!" The fresh voice was that of a large, middle-aged man with a lined face and twinkling blue eyes. He went directly to Gia and kissed her soundly. "You look well, Ms. Mayland."
"And so do you, captain," Gia returned fondly. It was no secret they were old friends, though Captain Joel Greshom's personal relationships were matters he normally did not discuss with his professional associates. Firmly holding her arm, he steered Gia across the deck to the door which led to his private quarters. Once inside, he sat her in the most comfortable chair. Then he called up the steward and ordered a light meal.
As she relaxed, she looked around the big room. At the simulated antiques, old leather-backed books, the handsome Turner reproduction above the realistic stone fireplace. "If the colonists had known about this—"
He laughed. "Girl, you're barking up the wrong tree. Many have supped here, and without exception they all felt sorry for me. I remember one farmer solemnly informing me that a few creature comforts are no substitute for a wide landscape under the open sky. He was right, too."
"You haven't been planetside since my mother died, have you?"
For a moment the captain looked bleak. "Never felt like it." He went to a trophy case, and from among the memorabilia of a dozen worlds lifted out a glittering cylinder. "Here. Forget about my past and concentrate on your own. A little something to refresh your memory."
It was like a tonic. Gia felt a restoring glow as she held it up to the light and examined the delicate structure contained within. "It's not a matter of memory. For me, it was yesterday when I brought this on board. Anyway, why isn't it in the safe? I don't think you realize its importance."
Again the big man laughed. "What would be the point? The person in charge of the safe also happens to be a loyal employee and shareholder of the outfit which is apparently the prime suspect behind your troubles. So why would I go to the trouble of protecting that bauble from Transtar's evil machinations—whose loyal employee and shareholder is me? Hmm?"
He was, of course, making fun of her. But the point was well taken, though Gia did not immediately abandon her concern. "So everyone knows about this? What it means and where it is kept?"
"I suppose. My officers of course, who often visit me here. And young Hagan. And certainly Endart Grimes."
"Oh yes. Endart Grimes." Gia reluctantly replaced the tiny AA in the trophy case and closed the door.
The captain eyed her curiously. "Don't you like the man?"
She shrugged. "I hardly know him."
"Which is the problem, I suspect. He acts like a fond uncle and you resent it. Right?"
"You are very discerning."
"Not really. I just know you too well. Anyway, he's not such a bad fellow. A little lonely perhaps, but he has his work to keep him company. He is very dedicated to what he does, you know."
"So are we all," Gia said moodily, reflecting on the fact that in her own job it was going to be difficult to sustain the interest and excitement of the Shouter assignment. When Jenny had suggested she belonged with the crystal-enclosed artifact right through to its hoped-for solution on Earth, it had made a lot of sense at the time. But in the cold light of reason, it was more likely the harried A.R.A. had had better things to do than invent work for an expediter who was better at detecting than expediting.
"Penny for your thoughts," the captain said.
"Nothing important," Gia lied. She forced a smile. "I think I need to resume an interrupted holiday."
She was serious about the holiday. A few days of relaxation might do much to revive her flagging spirits, especially while the artifact was being examined in Expediter's labs. But thoughts of sun and sand were put firmly aside by the first ground-to-orbit call to the huge starship. "I want you down on the first shuttle," Peter Digonness told her, his four-years-older screen image tight with supressed anticipation. "If what you have is what I hope it is, then from now on you can select your own assignments with my blessing. If it is not, then you and I will probably end up sharing the same terminal in the computer pool."
Gia nodded. She knew the Deputy Director was not exaggerating the consequences of failure. "I am not really worried," she said. "The artifact was placed where it had to be found. So it has to have a purpose."
Digonness agreed soberly. "Perhaps. We do know that so far the Phuili have accomplished nothing with their unit. So it is just possible that bringing ours to Earth is the right approach. After all these years, I wonder—"
They were separated by millions of kilometers, their images relayed via a communications net encompassing ground and space. Yet suddenly the two shared a rapport far beyond the linking ability of lasers and microwaves. Gia had felt it before, she welcomed it gladly and then felt a sense of loss as it faded as abruptly as it came. Digonness's astonishment was replaced by a dawning realization, and then by an introspective calm. He said softly,
"It seems, my dear Gia, there is somewhat more to communicating than I realized."



It turned out that the first shuttle was not designed to carry passengers. The space below the flight deck was cramped, with Gia, Galvic Hagan and Endart Grimes squeezed into a space not as wide as a standard ground car. Behind them, most of the thirty-meter cargo bay was filled with two disassembled life suspension chambers and four unused modules, all destined for modifications at the P.L.S. plant in Seattle.
The artifact had been stowed in a compartment next to her seat, and as soon as the maneuvers of separation and retrofire were complete, Gia retrieved the crystal-enclosed model and turned it over in her hands.
"Some souvenir," Vic commented seriously.
"True." Gia agreed, peering at the delicate miniature within. Somehow her enthusiasm was diminished, making her wonder if she was a victim of overload—too much, too fast. Subjectively the rapid pace of events on the Shouter had happened only yesterday, and not even twenty-six months in stasis could relieve the effects of accumulated stress. Yet it had been only hours ago in real time that the feel of this ice-silk surface had kindled within her a soaring sense of accomplishment. There had been no doubt, no doubt at all, that the dream of Earthgate was finally on the verge of realization.
Now, she felt nothing. The dream was dormant.
Suddenly Gia stopped rotating the model. She upended it and peered along the bottom edge of the crystal cylinder. She carefully traced her thumb along the edge and then looked again. "This is not it," she whispered.
"It isn't what?" Galvic asked curiously.
She turned to him. The young man flinched at the shock in her eyes. "My God Gia. what—?"
"It's a fake," the expediter said. Abruptly she grasped his hand and dragged it, palm-wise, across the cylinder's edge. "Look. Is it bleeding?"
He pulled his hand free and glanced at the fading impression on the skin. "No, it's not bleeding. Should it be?"
"You would have been sliced to the bone if this was the genuine artifact! See the little nick on the edge? Not even a diamond should be able to do that. Compared to the original, this is putty!" Gia looked across at the other passenger. "Isn't that right, Endart?"
The fat man, who had apparently been dozing, half roused himself. "... ah ... I beg your pardon?"
"When did you make the substitution, Endart?"
"Now just a minute!" Astonished, Vic looked from one to the other. "Oil, what are you getting at? What substitution?"
"Ask him!" she flashed. Leaning forward, Gia met Grimes' heavy-lidded gaze. "Endart, what is your actual connection with P.L.S.?"
Grimes lowered his head modestly. "Founder, Director of Research and Chairman of the Board." He looked up. His face was still jovial, but the pale eyes had become aware. And cold. "Endart Penders Grimes. That is my full name, you see."
"Oh my lord." Galvic Hagan shook his head in disbelief. "Move over, Transtar."
"You'd better believe it," Gia said. "P.L.S. is a small one-specialty outfit heavily dependent on government grants to improve a product which Earthgate will make obsolete overnight. Now that is a motive! The woman once masculinely known as Jophrem Genese was working for Grimes all along. It was no accident she blew herself to kingdom-come when she pressed the button which was supposed to blow us out of the sky. One insignificant blob of denzonite, tuned to the same frequency as the denzonite Genese herself had concealed aboard our aircraft, and Grimes almost had it all. No us, no witnesses, hopefully no Earthgate, and no hired killer. Do I have it right, Mr. Gimes?"
The Chairman of Fenders Life Support Systems was regarding his accuser thoughtfully. "Very ingenious. But, of course, absolute nonsense. For instance, why would I substitute for something which never existed in the first place?" He pointed at the artifact. "Where was it really made, Ms. Mayland? In the workshops of PERU perhaps? It seems to me that your scheme to save your own reputation at the expense of a poor fat man who has never done you harm, is most reprehensible. I am sorry, but after we land I intend to report this whole sordid matter to the proper authorities."
It was an amazing performance, Despite herself, Gia felt a reluctant admiration for the mental agility contained within that polished skull. But Grimes was clearly on the defensive, so she determinedly pressed her advantage. "Go ahead. Report. Meanwhile, I am sure an analysis of material samples from your workshop will find something with an interesting similarity to material from this." Gia held up the artifact. "Or don't you think so?"
Grimes was unimpressed. "I use common enough substances. So make your analysis. It won't prove anything."
"It won't get us Earthgate either!" Vic said angrily, swiveling in his seat and grabbing the front of a voluminous tunic. "Tell us what you did with the original you bastard, or by heaven I'll . . . oof!"
He gasped and released his grip as Gia thumped him between the shoulder blades. "Vic, you are a jackass," she said coldly. Her voice softened. "The artifact is indestructable, so he has to have concealed it somewhere. Probably, I suspect, aboard the Farway. We'll simply make sure nothing is shipped to ground until the ship is searched. Even if it takes weeks."
"Or years?" Grimes asked slyly as he straightened his rumpled tunic. "So the charade continues, eh, Ms. Mayland?" He smiled. "You will find nothing, of course. But we both know that, don't we?"
And he's probably right, was Gia's gloomy realization as she thought of the enormous volume contained within the living decks and storage spaces of the three hundred meter star ship. But whatever the outcome of the search, one thing was certain. Grimes had to pay for what he had done. If she could not see him put away in one of the orbital prisons, Gia was sure she could filter enough evidence through to the P.L.S. stockholders to exclude firmly the stout executive from any of the financial fruits of his crimes. Which would certainly damage his pride, as well as his bank account.
Damn him!
All the punishment in the world could not compensate for the loss of Earthgate. Staring miserably in front of her, Gia barely noticed the flare of a steering jet through the side window, and then the dropping away of Earth's horizon as the shuttle's nose came up for reentry. She heard a slight thrumming as the thick wings began to bite atmosphere, felt a gradual increase of weight as deceleration pressed her into her chair. As the shuttle slid down its narrow track of safety towards denser air, the thrumming increased and became a vibration. Reacting to computer commands, control surfaces extended from their housings. There was a coughing roar as ram-jets fired up.
"Explosion aboard!"
Even from the lower deck they heard the pilot's shout as the shuttle shuddered and then began to break apart.
"Emergency separation!"
There was a bang and then breath was gasped out of their lungs as something shoved with enormous force against the rear bulkhead. Looking like a larger version of an ancient Apollo capsule, the separated nose section immediately flipped over to re-entry attitude, and for a moment Gia saw the crumpling shuttle fall away behind them. Haloed with a flickering blue light, the discarded stub-winged craft was falling in on itself.
It's imploding!
The moment was barely enough for astonished uncomprehension before there was another jolt as the drogue chute snapped out behind them and steadied the jarring motion of their fall. Somewhere a relay closed and the huge main canopy shot out after the drogue, again ramming their bodies deep into restraining cushions as the shroud lines snapped, stretched, and then held.
"Is everyone OK down there?" the pilot shouted. Apparently the intercom was gone, along with just about everything else.
"I think so!" Vic shouted back. "What the hell happened?"
"Something cut loose in the cargo bay, that's all we know. Thank God this is an old prototype model with capsule separation. Otherwise we'd be part of the mess back there. Anyway, brace yourselves. We're going to hit!"
They did, violently. After the first bounce the capsule hit again, tilted, then rolled completely over until it stopped with a shuddering jarr and a screech of riven metal. It took only a moment to trigger the latches of the escape hatch, and not much longer for the three passengers and two crewmen to scramble out of their dented confinement. They found themselves on a sandy slope with sparce patches of coarse grass struggling for existence amid eroded rock outcroppings. The sun was low, the sky clear, and the air cool. For a minute or so it was good to relax, to breath deeply and to marvel at the fact they had all come through the experience with nothing more serious than a few scrapes and bruises. Even Endart Grimes, despite being older and overweight, looked almost content as he surveyed the scene. "Where are we?"
The pilot noted the position of the sun, then looked at his watch. "It's mid-afternoon and we were approaching Kennedy along a polar orbit. So I would , say sixty degrees north or thereabouts."
"Canada," Vic said. "Some landing pad, huh?"
A wind began to blow up the slope and it seemed the sky was darkening. Gia thought she heard distant thunder. "Hope we're not in for a drenching," she commented as she and Vic climbed up to the top of the slope. Already the wind was fiercer, so they crouched low until they reached the edge of a cliff which overlooked a very stormy sea. Winded, Gia sank down on her knees. "If we had come down in that—"
"—we would not be breathing now," Galvic said, his face pale as he realized how close they had been to eternity.
There was a crunching of feet as the others joined them. By this time the wind was so strong everyone had to shout to be understood. Gusts of stinging sand beat on exposed flesh and sea birds squawked alarm as they flapped laboriously inland toward safety.
It was a strange kind of storm and it was becoming stranger.
A few kilometers out from the shore, a roiling dark cloud seemed suspended over the water. Lightning flickered in and around the cloud and thunder rumbled incessantly. The wind had increased to a frenzy, forcing the five to flatten themselves prone on the ground. Gia thought the assistant pilot shouted something, but his words were swept away in the roaring cacophony.
"What is it out there?
The question was obvious, the answer was not. For the first time in her life Gia felt a genuine fear of the unknown, like a child abruptly abandoned in a dark room. The wind whipped and howled toward the thing over the water, toward the frothing column that had reared up into the base of the cloud like a liquid pedestal. Within the cloud itself there was something shadowy, a vagueness that slowly rose upward until, just below the summit of the cloud, it began spreading into a gigantic T.
"It can't be," Gia whispered. "It just can't be."
But it can be, a voice mocked in her mind. It is!
Along with realization came a sound of laughter, high pitched and with more than a hint of hysteria. The wind was beginning to subside, enough so that Endart Grimes, between paroxysms of mirth, was able to gasp, "Don't you see, girl? Don't you see? I've given you Earthgate!"
"He has what?" Vic asked with astonishment, trying to look both at the cloud and at the wheezing executive. "What is the man blathering about?"
"I think it is pretty obvious," Gia replied stonily, her eyes fixed on the now unmistakable shape within its stormy cocoon.
"I didn't want even the slightest chance of it being found," Grimes went on hoarsely. Hands clutched against his stomach, he was rocking back and forth as if he was in pain. "So I hid it in one of the P.L.S. suspension chambers, just before the equipment was dismantled and loaded aboard the shuttle. I mean, how could I know it wanted Earth's atmosphere to feed on? That it was, in fact, nothing more than a template?" The fat man gave way to another wracking paroxysm of laughter. "Just think about it! If what you had with you in the cabin had been the real thing, we would not be here now, would we?" Wheezing horribly, he pointed shakily at the thing over the sea. "Instead, we'd be part of—"
He did not finish the sentence. Eyes bulging, Endart Penders Grimes toppled slowly on his side, quivered once and lay still. After a moment, Gia checked his pulse. There wasn't any.



The place was Akimiski, a large island in James Bay. North of the island, James Bay widened into Hudson Bay, the ocean in a continent's hart. Ten kilometers off Akimiski's shore, a seed had reached for, and found, millions of tons of matter. Starting with a couple hundred tons of space-going machinery called a cargo shuttle, it then began absorbing from the gas-liquid interface at the planet's surface. Like a mini black hole it was impartial; along with air and water it took in huge numbers of fish and birds, a few seals, a couple of beluga whales, and one polar bear. It would have made no difference wherever it landed; ocean or desert, mountain top or city, it only needed matter. Unlike a black hole however, the seed was not insatiable. It was, as a dying man pointed out, merely a template, a means to recreate itself on an incredibly larger scale.
Which it did.



Exactly two hours and thirteen minutes after the implosion began in the shuttle's cargo bay, the process of transformation was complete and a new AA towered over the shallow waters of James Bay. The vortex was no more; air and sea were calm, and a rescue heli-wing accomplished a smooth landing near the four survivors.
At plus two hours and thirty-two minutes, even as the heli-wing was climbing away from Akimiski, a huge sphere of flickering light suddenly appeared above the AA. There was no accompanying heat or noise, and the air remained calm. At plus thirty hours and three minutes, a broad-winged aircraft appeared from the south and quietly vanished into the light. Roughly a tenth of a second later, real time, the same aircraft emerged above an AA locally known as "6093" and shortly thereafter alighted on the dusty surface of a hurriedly prepared runway. Six hundred light years had been traversed in less time than it takes to draw a breath.
Two passengers emerged from the aircraft. One, a young woman, held back as her older male companion walked hesitatingly toward a mixed group of humans and aliens who were waiting nearby. One of the group, a human, came forward and met the man halfway. They clasped hands and studied each other. Finally, a smile.
"Welcome home, Peter," Genevieve Hagan said softly.