He turned away from the unsolvable riddle of the strange constellations;

and went to his cabin, to dream of the green star Meristem where he had

first plotted known coordinates for a previously unknown world, and to

wander in baffling nightmares where he fed jagged, star-colored pieces

of hail into the ship's computer and watched them come out as tiny

paperdoll spaceships with the letterhead of Eight Colors printed neatly

across their sides.

After the warp-drive shift, Vorongil came to his cabin, this time crisp

and businesslike.

"We're back in your galaxy," he said, "among the stars you know. We have

no passenger space on the Swiftwing; we had to ship out without

replacing Rugel, which means we're short two men. I've no authority to

ask this of you, but--would you like your old job back for the rest of

the voyage?"

Bart glanced at his human hands.

Vorongil shrugged. "We've carried Mentorians as full-ranking

Astrogators. There don't happen to be any on the Swiftwing. But

there's no law about it."

Bart looked the old Lhari in the eye. "I won't accept Mentorian terms,

Vorongil."

"I wouldn't ask it. You worked your way outward on this run, and the

High Council didn't see fit to erase those memories or inhibit them. Why

should I? Do you want it or not?"

Did he want it? Until this moment Bart had not identified the worst of

his pain and defeat--to travel as a passenger, a supercargo, when he had

once been part of the Swiftwing. Literally he ached to be back with it

again. "I do, rieko mori."

"Very well," Vorongil rapped, "see that you turn out next watch!" He

spun round and walked out. His tone was no longer gently indulgent, but

sharp and distant. Bart, at first surprised, suddenly understood.

Not now a prisoner, a passenger, a guest on the Swiftwing. He was part

of the crew again--and Vorongil was his captain.

The Lhari crew were oddly constrained at first. But Ringg was the same

as always, and before long they were almost on the old terms. With every

watch, it seemed, he was building a bridge between man and Lhari. They

accepted him.

But for what? Something might come, in the far future, of his

acceptance, but he wouldn't get the benefit of it. This would be his

only voyage; after this he'd be chained again, crawling from planet to

planet of a single sun. And as warp-shift followed warp-shift, the

Swiftwing retracing the path of her outward cruise star by star, Bart

said farewell to them.




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