“Dr. Brandywine,” said Jerry, “we have an energy source in our rear. I am unable to determine its nature.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Kim, please describe your own circumstance and the nature of the emergency. What happened? Are you injured?”
“It’s closing,” said Jerry. “Is it dangerous?”
“Lethal,” said Kim. “Stay ahead of it.”
“We are already approaching maximum velocity.”
“I’m not hurt,” she told Air Rescue. Although her left shoulder was burned and hurt like hell. In addition she’d twisted a knee when she fell with the microwave.
“What happened to the people at the village? Who killed them?”
“It’s still closing,” said Jerry. “At current velocity, it will overtake us in approximately ninety seconds.”
“Can’t we go any faster?”
“We are at maximum thrust, Dr. Brandywine.”
“Air Rescue,” she said, “things are getting a bit busy. If something happens to me, you’ll need to use a microwave.”
“Say again, Kim?”
“Don’t have time.”
“We have a unit lifting off now. Meanwhile, it’ll help us to help you if you can describe your situation. Please try to remain calm.”
Kim killed the radio. “Jerry,” she said, “can we send them a picture of the shroud?”
“Of the what?”
“Of the pursuer.”
“We can do that, Dr. Brandywine.”
“Do it,” she said.
The lake waters were racing beneath them. The shoreline was lost in the dark. Decision time.
“What are we going to do?” asked Jerry.
The Valiant lay in the backseat, black and beautiful. What places have you seen, little friend?
She opened the case holding the duplicate Valiant and switched on a light to see it better. Even the copy would be worth a small fortune.
“Kim. Be advised I’ve transmitted the picture to Air Rescue and a record of this flight to my dispatcher.”
“Good. We’ll see what he makes of it.” She picked up the duplicate and placed it on the seat beside her. “Jerry, open the door.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot do that. It is dangerous to open a door in flight.”
“It’s necessary to avoid contact with our pursuer. Open up.”
“Please do not take offense, Dr. Brandywine. I know the other vehicle is behaving strangely, but I’ve only your word that it is a hazard to this aircraft.”
She sighed and looked down, searching for the panel Solly had shown her. She found it quickly and opened it. The yellow-coated cable. “Sorry, Jerry,” she whispered, and pulled its plug. She recalled the rest of the procedure, threw the same switches Solly had, and took manual control of the aircraft.
The shroud was seconds behind. Kim could see stars in its filmy veils, could in fact see the three giants of Orion’s Belt, Mintaka, Alnilam, and Alnitak.
The northern shore was coming up fast. She took the flyer down on the water.
The shroud followed. Kim cradled the duplicate starship in her arms, released her harness, and pushed the door open. The wind howled and tried to slam it shut. She jammed her foot against it, holding it, and sighed. She’d have preferred to hold the starship out where her pursuer could see it—but as soon as she got it through the door the wind ripped it out of her hands.
She watched it tumble into the water.
To her horror, the shroud paid no attention and kept coming.
Either it hadn’t seen the bait, or it had detected the deception. Kim muttered a profanity she had never used before and dragged the Valiant, the original, onto her lap. She tried to pin her position down. A hundred meters from shore. Broken pier on a thirty-degree bearing. Finger of land jutting into the water on her left. And then, heart pounding, she pitched overboard the most valuable artifact known to the species.
The thing still did not veer off.
My God, it was after her.
She raced across the water and in over the shoreline, barely above treetop level. “You dumb son of a bitch,” she screamed, as her door banged shut. “I threw it in the lake.”
25
Courage mounteth with occasion.
The flyer was too slow.
The shroud closed on her. It was near enough that she could make out eyes, four of them now, distributed across its forward section, like windows in the cockpit of an aircraft.
It drew close to her tail, filling the aft screen, watching her as though it could see through the flyer’s own monitoring system, could see her. It touched the aircraft, began to engulf the rudders and the rear jets. She yanked hard over and fought for altitude. It tried to follow but the turn was too much and it disintegrated and scattered across the sky. She congratulated herself, leveled off at two thousand meters and turned back toward Eagle Point. At best speed.
Air Rescue was still talking to her, asking what was going on, demanding to know where the bodies were, what the nature of her emergency was, assuring her of dire penalties if the images she was sending turned out to be virtuals.
“It’s real,” she told them.
“What is it?”
Behind her, the fireflies were beginning to reassemble.
Son of a bitch.
“Kim, what is going on?”
“I’m being chased by something. I don’t know what it is.”
“All right. Stay away from it. Help’s on the way.”
“Tell them to be careful. The thing’s deadly.”
“What can you tell us about it?”
“I can tell you that directed microwaves will disrupt it.”
“Microwaves.” There was a brief conversation with someone else. Then: “Where did it come from?”
“I don’t know. But it’s pulled itself together out there and it’s starting this way again.”
“We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
Kim saw lights coming from the direction of Eagle Point. “Thanks,” she said.
She was several kilometers in front of it now, and it was no more than a fuzzy patch of cloud in the moonlight. But she saw the comet head re-forming, saw it moving against the backdrop of other clouds.
Her sensors told her it was gathering speed. Coming fast and coming faster.
She waited, watched it approach, watched it fill the sky behind her. Its mad gaze stared malevolently out of her screens. And when she could stand it no more, when it was climbing her tailpipe, she turned aside and sent it hurtling once again across the sky.
Stupid goddamn critter.
Trailing filaments touched her starboard wing. Lights went off, a red lamp on the console began blinking furiously, and the engine died. The flyer fell. The sky reeled around her and Kim’s stomach tried to climb up into her throat. Engine failure was supposed to be something that never happened. But if it did, procedure required taking a minute before trying to restart. Give the automatics time to clear the lines. She held on as long as she could while the flyer dropped through the sky. Then she hit the button. The magnetics caught and the engine came on.
Trees and hills swept past.
She pulled back on the yoke, gained enough to clear obstacles, but stayed low. Keep down in thicker air. That should make it more difficult for the shroud.
It was off her screens, but she thought she could see its remnants, long wispy trails against the stars.
The red lamp was still blinking.
Batteries.
She requested a readout on her power supplies.
“Kim.” A new voice. A man’s. “Steer northeast and gain some altitude. We’ll take it from here.”