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Have you had enough of this world, and decided to go home?
Anne told the story in shorthand, compressed and elliptic. The Tirans had found
a tablet bearing a theorem: the last of the Niah's discoveries, the pinnacle of their
achievements. Her minders had not let her study it, but they had contrived a situation
making it easy for her to steal it, and to steal this ship. They had wanted her to take it and
run, in the hope that she would lead them to something they valued far more than any
ancient mathematics: an advanced spacecraft, or some magical stargate at the edge of the
system.
But Anne wasn't fleeing anywhere. She was high above Ghahar, reading the
tablet, and now she would paint what she read across the sky for Joan to see.
Sando approached.  We're in danger, we have to move.
 Danger? That's my friend up there! She's not going to shoot a missile at us!
 Your friend? Sando seemed confused. As he spoke, three more ships came
into view, lower and brighter than the first.  I've been told that the Tirans are going to
strike the valley, to bury the Niah sites. We need to get over the hill and indoors, to get
some protection from the blast.
 Why would the Tirans attack the Niah sites? That makes no sense to me.
Sando said,  Nor me, but I don't have time to argue.
The three ships were menacing Anne's, pursuing her, trying to drive her away.
Joan had no idea if they were Ghahari defending their territory, or Tirans harassing her in
the hope that she would flee and reveal the non-existent shortcut to the stars, but Anne
was staying put, still weaving the same gestural language into her maneuvers even as she
dodged her pursuers, spelling out the Niah's glorious finale.
Joan said,  You go. I have to see this. She tensed, ready to fight him if
necessary.
Sando took something from his tool belt and peppered her side with holes. Joan
gasped with pain and crumpled to the ground as the sheath fluid poured out of her.
Rali and Surat helped carry her to the shelter. Joan caught glimpses of the fiery
ballet in the sky, but not enough to make sense of it, let alone reconstruct it.
They put her on her couch inside the shelter. Sando bandaged her side and gave
her water to sip. He said,  I'm sorry I had to do that, but if anything had happened to you
I would have been held responsible.
Surat kept ducking outside to check on the  battle , then reporting excitedly on
the state of play.  The Tiran's still up there, they can't get rid of it. I don't know why
they haven't shot it down yet.
Because the Tirans were the ones pursuing Anne, and they didn't want her dead.
But for how long would the Ghahari tolerate this violation?
Anne's efforts could not be allowed to come to nothing. Joan struggled to recall
the constellations she'd last seen in the night sky. At the node they'd departed from,
powerful telescopes were constantly trained on the Noudah's home world. Anne's ship
was easily bright enough, its gestures wide enough, to be resolved from seven light years
away  if the planet itself wasn't blocking the view, if the node was above the horizon.
The shelter was windowless, but Joan saw the ground outside the doorway
brighten for an instant. The flash was silent; no missile had struck the valley, the
explosion had taken place high above the atmosphere.
Surat went outside. When she returned she said quietly,  All clear. They got it.
Joan put all her effort into spitting out a handful of words.  I want to see what
happened.
Sando hesitated, then motioned to the others to help him pick up the couch and
carry it outside.
A shell of glowing plasma was still visible, drifting across the sky as it expanded,
a ring of light growing steadily fainter until it vanished into the afternoon glare.
Anne was dead in this embodiment, but her backup would wake and go on to
new adventures. Joan could at least tell her the story of her local death: of virtuoso
flying and a spectacular end.
She'd recovered her bearings now, and she recalled the position of the stars. The
node was still hours away from rising. The Amalgam was full of powerful telescopes,
but no others would be aimed at this obscure planet, and no plea to redirect them could [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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