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"You believe that goodlife c.r.a.p? It'll blast us as we go."
"I don't think so," he said. "There're plenty of precedents. They do have the option of cla.s.sifying you that way, and they will make a deal if there's something they really want."
"Dorphy," Wade asked, "did you get that message off to Corlano?"
The smaller man nodded.
"Yes."
"Good," Wade stated. "If for no other reason, Corlano is why we are going to wait here. It could take a while for those smaller units it spoke of to get here. Every hour we gain in waiting is another hour for them to bolster their defenses."
"I can see that..." Dorphy began.
"... but there's sure death for us at the end of the waiting," MacFarland continued for him, "and this looks like a genuine way out. I sympathize with Corlano as much as you do, but us dying here is not going to help them. You know the place is not strongly defended. Whether we buy them a little extra time or not, they will still go under."
"You don't really know that," Wade said. "Some seemingly weak worlds have beaten off some very heavy attacks in the past. And even the berserker said it-our few lives are insignificant next to an entire inhabited world."
"Well, I'm talking probabilities, and I didn't come in on this venture to be a martyr. I was willing to take my chances with criminal justice, but not with death."
"How do you feel about it, Dorphy?" Wade asked.
Dorphy licked his lips and looked away.
"I'm with MacFarland," he said softly.
Wade clenched his teeth, then turned to Juna.
"I say we wait," she said.
"That makes two of us," Wade observed.
"She doesn't have a vote," MacFarland stated. "She's just a pa.s.senger."
"It's her life, too," Wade answered. "She has a say."'
"She doesn't want to give it that that d.a.m.ned machine!" MacFarland shot back. "She wants to sit here and play with it while everything goes up in flames! What's she got to lose? She's dying anyway, and-"
Wade snarled and rose to his feet.
"The discussion is ended," he said. "We stay."
"The vote was a tie-at most."
"I am a.s.suming full command here, and I say that's the way it's going to be."
MacFarland laughed.
"'Full command! This is a lousy smuggling run, not the service you got basted out of, Wade. You can't command any-"
Wade hit him, twice in the stomach and a left cross to the jaw.
MacFarland went down, doubled forward and began gasping. Wade regarded him, considered his size.
If he gets up within the next ten seconds this is going to be rough, he decided.
But MacFarland raised a hand only to rub his jaw. He said "d.a.m.n!" softly and shook his head. Then, "You didn't have to do that, Wade."
"I thought I did."
MacFarland shrugged and rose to one knee.
"Okay, you've got your command," he said. "I still think you're making a big mistake."
"I'll call you the next time there's something to discuss," Wade told him.
Dorphy reached to help him to his feet, but the larger man shook off his hand.
Wade glanced at Juna. She looked paler than usual, her eyes brighter. She stood before the hatchway to the opened lock as if to defend the pa.s.sage.
"I'm going to take a shower and lie down," MacFarland said.
"Good."
Juna moved forward as the two men left the room. She took hold of Wade's arm.
"It lied," she said again softly. "Do you understand? It could blast us and probably recover the machine, but it doesn't want to..."
"No," Wade said. "I don't understand."
"It's almost as if it's afraid of the thing."
"Berserkers do not know fear."
"All right. I was anthropomorphizing. It's as if it were under some constraint regarding it. I think we've got something very special here, something that creates an unusual problem for the berserker."
"What could it be?"
"I don't know. But there may be a way to find out, if you can get me enough time. Stall it, for as long as you can."
He nodded slowly and seated himself. His heart was racing.
"You said that about half of its memory was shot..."
"It's a guess, but yes. And I'm going to try to reconstruct it from what's there."
"How?"
She crossed to the computer.
"I'm going to program, this thing for an ultra-highspeed form of Wiener a.n.a.lysis of what's left in there.
It's a powerful non-linear method for dealing with the very high noise levels we're facing. But it's going to have to make some astronomical computations for a system like this. We'll have to patch in the others, maybe even pull some of the cargo. I don't know how long this is going to take, or even if it will really work." She began to sound out of breath. "But we might be able to reconstruct what's missing and restore it. That's why I need all the time you can get me," she finished.
"I'll try," he answered. "You go ahead. And-"
"I know," she said, coughing. "Thanks."
"I'll bring you something to eat while you work."
"In my cabin," she said, "top drawer, bedside table-there are three small bottles of pills. Bring them instead, and some water."
"Right."
He departed. On the way, he stopped in his cabin to fetch a handgun he kept in his dresser, the only weapon aboard the ship. He searched the drawers several times, however, and could not locate it. He cursed softly and then went to Juna's cabin for her medicine.
The berserker maintained its distance and speculated while it waited. It had conceded some information in order to explain the proposed tradeoff. Still, it could do no harm to remind Captain Kelman of the seriousness of his position. It might even produce a faster decision. Accordingly, the hydraulics hummed and surface hatches were opened to extrude additional weapon mounts. Firing pieces were shifted to occupy these, and were targeted upon the small vessel. Most were too heavy to take out the ship without damaging its companion. Their mere display, though, might be sufficiently demoralizing...
Wade watched Juna work. While the hatch could be secured there were several other locations within the ship from which it could be opened remotely. So he had tucked a pry bar behind his belt and kept an eye on the open hatch. It had seemed the most that he could do, short of forcing a confrontation which might go either way.
Periodically, he would throw the voice mode switch and listen to that thing ramble, sometimes in ED language, sometimes in the odd alien tongue which still sounded somehow familiar. He mused upon it.
Something was trying to surface. She had been right about it, but- The intercom buzzed. Dorphy.
"Our hour is up. It wants to talk to you again," he said. "Wade, it's showing more weapons-"
"Switch it in," he replied. He paused, then, "h.e.l.lo?" he said.
"Captain Kelman, the hour is run," came the now-familiar voice. "Tell me your decision."
"We have not reached one yet," he answered. "We are divided on this matter. We need more time to discuss it farther."
"How much time?"
"I don't know. Several hours at least."
"Very well, I will communicate with you every hour for the next three hours. If you have not reached a decision during that time I will have to reconsider my offer to categorize you as goodlife."
"We are hurrying," Wade said. "I will call you in an hour."
"Wade," Dorphy said at transmission's end, "all those new weapons are pointed right at us. I think it's getting ready to blast us if you don't give it what it' wants."
"I don't think so," Wade said. "Anyhow, we've got some time now."
"For what? A few hours isn't going to change anything."
"I'll tell you. In a few hours," Wade said. "How's MacFarland?"
"He's okay."
"Good." He broke she connection.
"h.e.l.l," he said then.
He wanted a drink hot he didn't want to muddy his thinking. He had been close to something...
He returned to Juna and the console.
"How's it going?" he asked. "Everything's in place and I'm running it now," she said.
"How soon till you know whether it's working?"
"Hard to tell."
He threw the voice mode switch again.
"Qwibbian-qwibbian-kel," it said. "Qwibbian-qwibbian-kel, maks qwibbian."
"I wonder what that could mean?" he said.
"It's a recurring phrase, or word-or whole sentence. A pattern a.n.a.lysis I ran a while back made me think that it might be its name for itself."
"It has a certain lilt to it."
He began humming. Then whistling, and tapping his fingers on the side of the console in accompaniment.
"That's it!" he announced suddenly. "It was the right place but it was the wrong place."
"What?" she asked.
"I have to check, to be sure," he said. "Hold the fort. I'll be back."
He hurried off.
"The right place but the wrong place," emerged from the speaker. "How can that be? Contradiction."
"You're coming together again!" she said.
"I-regain," came the reply, after a time.
"Let us talk while the process goes on," she suggested.
"Yes," it answered, and then it lapsed again into rambling amid bursts of static.
Dr. Juna Bayel crouched in the lavatory cubicle and vomited. Afterwards, she ground the heels of her hands into her eyesockets and tried to breathe deeply, to overcome the dizziness and the shaking. When her stomach had settled sufficiently she took a double dose of her medicine. It was a risk, but she had no real choice. She could not afford one of her spells at this time. A heavy dose might head it off. She clenched her teeth and her fists and waited.