Infinity's Shore

The glittering pinpoint hesitated, then began to move again. Dwer soon confirmed — it was growing larger. The Jophur were heading back this way!

Now I know what to send, he thought with satisfaction. Dwer raised the hammer and brought it smashing down on the second crystal. That instant, his back swarmed with a curious tingling. The feeling came and left quickly.

His duty done at last, Dwer reached for the gas-discharge rope. The battleship was going to pass close again, and the only way he had to maneuver was to lose height.

Easy does it, he thought. Let her down slowly. Might as well reach the foothills before you have to…

The great ship loomed rapidly, then streaked westward while gaining altitude, missing him by hundreds of arrowflights.

Alas, this time it did not ignore Dwer.

As it hurried by, the mighty blue globe dropped a tiny speck. A minuscule dot that arced away and then dropped rapidly, glittering as it came. Dwer did not have to know much about Galactic technology to recognize a missile when he saw one.

Gillian mentioned that I might attract attention when I signaled.

Dwer sighed, watching the fleck turn a gentle curve and then plunge straight toward him.

Ah, well, he thought, picking up his prize possession — the bow made for him by the master carvers of Ovoom Town, in honor of his skill as tracker for the Commons of Six Races.

When the explosion came, it was unlike anything he expected.

Gillian

THAT’S IT!” SHE CRIED OUT, GLAD OF THE NEWS.

Even more elated was Sara, who let out an urrish sounding yelp, on learning that her brother yet lived.

The signal also confirmed Gillian’s best guess. The Jophur had been slow reacting, but they were doing as she hoped.

“They are predictable,” commented the Niss, whose whirling hologram passed through oxy-water bubbles unperturbed. “The delay only means we get more of a head start.”

Gillian agreed, but in her thoughts added:

We’ll need ten times this much of a lead, in order to make it all the way.

Aloud, she told the pilot:

“Punch us out of here, Kaa. Stay with swarm number two. Put us second from the front of the pack.”

The pilot shouted,“Aye!”

Soon the low, driving harmonies of the motivators notched upward in pitch. Gillian glanced at the engineroom display. Morale seemed high among Suessi’s crewfen. As she watched, Emerson D’Anite threw his head back to sing! Gillian only picked up a fragment, though the lyrics had Emerson’s coworkers in stitches.

“Jijo, Jijo…

It’s off to war we go!”

Even suffering from brain affliction, his puns were terrible. It was good to have some of the old Emerson back again.

External displays showed the planet swiftly receding, a gentle blue-brown globe, swathed in a slim envelope of life-giving weather. Numerous sharp-bordered green patches testified to where some metropolis once stood, before the site was scoured and seeded. Whether now covered with swamp, forest, or prairie, the regions still showed regular outlines that would take eons to erase.

Earth has such scars, she thought. In even greater abundance. The difference is that we were ignorant and didn’t know better. We had to learn the hard way how to manage a world, by teaching ourselves.

Gillian glanced at Sara, whose eyes bore pain and wonder, watching her homeworld diminish to a small orb — the first of her sooner line to look down at Jijo, ever since her ancestors fled here, centuries ago.

A place of refuge. A sanctuary for Earthlings and others. They all meant to hunker down, cowering away from the cosmos, each race redeeming its heritage in its own peculiar way.

Then we brought the universe crashing in on them.

She watched Lieutenant Tsh’t move among the crewfen at their dome consoles, encouraging them with bursts of sonar, always checking for lapses of attention. The meticulous supervision hardly seemed necessary. Not one of the elite bridge staff had ever shown a trace of stress atavism. All were guaranteed high uplift classifications when they got home.

If we get home.

If there is still a home, waiting for us.

In fact, everyone knew the real reason why half the crew had been left behind on Jijo, along with the Kiqui and copies of Streaker’s records.

We don’t have much of a chance of escaping … but it might be possible to draw the universe away from Jijo. Diverting its attention. Making it forget the sooners, once again.

It would take skill and luck just to achieve that sacrifice. But if successful, what an accomplishment! Preventing the extinction of the g’Kek, or the unwanted transformation of the traeki, or the discovery and blame that would befall Earth, if human sooners were exposed here.

If this works, we’ll have a complete cache of Earthlings on Jijo — humans, chimps, and now dolphins, too. A safety reserve, in case the worst happens at home.

That seems worthwhile. A result worth paying for.

Of course, like everything in the cosmos, it would come at a price.