Maybe she wasn’t coming. Maybe something had been going on. Maybe a crisis on staff, someone needing help…
He heard running steps in the hall. Sat up. As the siren went off, sharp warning bursts.
Jago came through the door, crossed the floor and landed on the bed in the space he made.
“Nadi-ji?” He was concerned.
A giddy feeling ensued. The ship began to ease its way out of the ordinary universe.
“One apologizes,” Jago said, breathless—for her, quite unusual.
“Trouble?” Difficulty breathing, himself, for the moment.
“Nand’ Cajeiri had a pocketful of dice.”
“Dice?” A common toy. They came in sets of eight. His staff had been called in. Cenedi must have been having fits. “Was he throwing them?”
“He called it an experiment,” Jago said. “To know, one understands, whether the numbers come up the same in freefall as on earth.”
He was appalled. The things became missiles under acceleration.
And intrigued. He had to ask.
“Do they?”
Jago laughed. That wonderful sound. And was still out of breath, as the universe ebbed and flowed around them. “A flaw in the notion, failure to ascertain true rest. Two were lost. Cenedi was entirely out of sorts.”
“You did find them.”
“Of course.”
Of course they had found them, or Jago would not have left. “Excellent,” he said, thinking of dice in freefall. Jago was warm beside him.
Safe. Secure. All dice accounted for. Baji-naji. They were going home.
About the Author
With over fifty books to her credit, and the winner of three Hugo Awards, C.J. Cherryh is one of the most prolific and highly respected authors in the science fiction field. She lives in Washington State.