Starplex

“Everyone—quickly. This is Director Lansing. Following instructions from Internal-Ops Manager Karendaughter, evacuate decks thirty-one through seventy. Get out of the engineering torus, out of the docking bays, out of the cargo holds, and out of all four lower-habitat modules. Everyone move into the upper-habitat modules. All dolphins—either get out of the ocean deck altogether, or swim up to the surface of the ocean and stay there. Everyone, move in an orderly fashion—but move! PHANTOM, end, translate, and loop.”

In the hole display, the surface of the star was bulging out of the circular shortcut opening. “The shortcut-aperture expansion rate is increasing rapidly,” said Jag. “It seemed to take a while to get going, probably because the star was essentially flat at first, but now that the surface is showing curvature, the thing is opening more quickly. Diameter is now one hundred and ten thousand kilometers.”

“Radiation is increasing rapidly as more of the surface comes through,” said Lianne. “And if it shoots another prominence in our direction, we’ll be cinderized.”

“Evacuation status,” snapped Keith.

Lianne pushed buttons and twenty-four square images appeared, replacing part of the starscape bubble. Each showed a different view through PHANTOM’s eyes, and the scenes kept shifting, cycling through the computer’s various cameras.

A corridor—level fifty-eight, according to the superimposed status line: six Ibs rapidly rolling forward.

An intersection: three human women in track suits hurrying toward the camera from one direction, and two Waldahudin and a human male rushing in from the other direction.

The zero-g part of the central shaft: people using the handholds to shoot themselves upward.

A vertical water tube, with three dolphins swimming up it.

An elevator car, with a Waldahud holding the door open with one arm and urging passengers in with the other three.

Another elevator car, containing an Ib surrounded by a dozen humans.

“Even with everyone above the ocean deck,” said Lianne, “I don’t think we’re going to have enough radiation-shielding.”

“Wait!” said Thor. “What about going behind the shortcut?”

“Eh?” said Rhombus—or, at least, that’s the sound PHANTOM gave to the little ripple of lights that passed over his mantle.

“The shortcut’s a circular hole,” said Thor, looking over his shoulder at Keith. “The star is emerging from it. The rear part of the shortcut is a flat, empty circle—a black void in the shape of whatever’s passing through it. If we’re behind the shortcut, we’ll be protected—at least for a while.”

Jag slapped all four of his hands against his console. “He’s right!”

Keith nodded. “Do it, Thor. Alter course to put us in the lee of the shortcut, keeping the bottom of the ocean deck facing the emerging star.”

“Executing,” said Thor. “But it’ll take a while to get there.” In the spherical holo display encompassing the bridge, the brilliant circular profile of the star slowly became a green dome as Thor maneuvered the ship.

“Talldorsal to Lansing!” A high-pitched dolphin voice over the intercom, with splashing in the background.

“Open. Lansing here.”

“Thor’s not moving in a line straight the ship. We’re getting tides on the ocean deck.”

“Lianne?” Keith said, and the twenty-four views of the evacuation all changed to different angles on the ocean. Seawater was sloshing up to the holographic ceiling on the port side, real waves touching fake clouds, forcing all the dolphins to the starboard so that they could breathe.

“Damn,” said Thor. “Hadn’t thought about that. I’ll rotate the ship around its axis as we move. With luck, I should be able to keep all the forces balanced. Sorry!”

As Starplex continued to move, the bulging dome of the green star became progressively eclipsed by the featureless black circular backside of the shortcut. And then, at last, the green disappeared; Starplex was in the shortcut’s lee. The only evidence for the emerging star was the emerald cast on the dark-matter field beyond it. Even the ring of Soderstrom radiation was invisible back here; it, after all, was caused by tachyons spilling out of the shortcut, heading in the opposite direction. The black circle continued to grow, though, blotting out more and more background stars. Its diameter was now 800,000 kilometers.

“Can you extrapolate how big the star is going to get, based on the curvature we observed on the other side?” Keith asked Jag.

“It’s not yet halfway through,” Jag replied, “and it’s oblate from high-speed rotation. Best guess? One-point-five million kilometers.”

“Thor, any chance of the hyperdrive?” Keith asked.

Thor spoke into the hologram of Keith floating above his console rim. “Not yet. We’d have to be at least seventy million klicks from the star’s center before space would be flat enough to engage it. I estimate we’ll reach that distance in eleven hours.”

“Hours. How long till the star’s equator passes through the shortcut?”

“Perhaps five minutes,” said Jag.

“Evacuation status?”