She continued to hold him for a moment, then released her grip. "I want you to hold me again, Wilf," she whispered, peering intently into his eyes. "I don't know bow, but, 'Can e'er I bid these joys farewell?/No greater bliss shines out among the stars.'"
"I'll get to where you are somehow," Brim said, Lacerta's poetry glowing like a brand in his memory as the air lock hissed. He got to his feet unsteadily, his heart racing.
"Together," Margot whispered while he helped her from the recliner. Then the others were inside, doffing their helmets and looking around the little control cabin as if its clutter might stain their battle suits.
"Princess Effer'wyck?" a bowing commander inquired, ignoring Brim as if he were part of the ship's equipment. The man was short, and inside his helmet he wore a too-neat mustache.
"Lieutenant Effer'wyck, if you please, Commander," Margot corrected. Then, turning to Brim, she said, "I shall remain on Avalon for a time, Wilf. If Fortune wills, we shall meet there. Otherwise, Gimmas." She touched his hand, then reached for her space helmet. "Thank you forever," she whispered—less than a cycle later, she led three of the officers through the air lock, across the ruined well deck, and out of Brim's sight.
The remaining officer placed a hand on Amherst's shoulder and scanned the burned and splintered deck outside. "Looks as if the rescue wasn't all that easy, Puvis," he said, removing his helmet. He was tall and elegant, even in a battle suit. Like Amherst, he had a long patrician nose, narrow-set, sensitive eyes, and another perfectly groomed wisp of mustache.
Amherst colored. "Ah...no. It w-wasn't, Uncle Shelgar," he stammered, looking at Brim pleadingly.
"We accomplished our mission, Commander," Brim said.
"That's the important part."
"Yes, you brought the Princess back," Shelgar said, nodding his head, "thereby avoiding a large and nasty galactic incident." He laughed. "She won't do that again, I'll tell you—they've reassigned her permanently to Avalon this time. Why, when the Emperor found what she was up to, he was furious.
Perfectly furious."
"She is next in line for the throne of Effer'wyck, isn't she?" Amherst observed. "Sort of a crown princess, except they don't use the term there." He frowned. "How did she get herself such an assignment in the first place?"
"A strong-willed youngster," Shelgar chuckled. "They say she usually gets what she wants." He smiled.
"And from what I hear, she did a perfectly superb job of what she was doing. All very hush-hush, you know." He took a moment to stare at the wreckage-strewn decks, peering intently at the jagged, blackened hole where Theada's 60-mmi used to be. "But," he continued, holding up an index finger, "I did not remain on your, ah, bridge here to discuss the Princess. I have orders for you, Puvis, and also for what is left of this little starship of yours.
"Sir?" Amherst asked.
"First," Shelgar said, "you are ordered to return with us in the cruiser—your father's personal and direct wishes, of course. He'll want to bestow your decorations himself."
"I see, yes," Amherst said, his eyes brightening for the first time since the mission began. "I have a few things in the cabin, forward," he said. "If you will be so good as to pass the remainder of the orders to Brim, my Helmsman, I shall be ready to leave momentarily."
Shelgar nodded and watched Amherst disappear into the companionway before he turned to Brim.
"So you are the Carescrian Helmsman," he said, folding his arms and smiling.
"Yes, sir," Brim answered uncertainly.
"Regula Collingswood speaks highly of you, Lieutenant," Shelgar said. "I assume you flew the mission?"
"Some of it," Brim answered.
"I won't ask any embarrassing questions, Brim," Shelgar asserted with an ironic smile. "I've already formed my own guesses about the nature of young Amherst's contribution from what I long ago learned of my brother's son." He winked. "So I also won't bother to read the official version when it appears in the Journal." He laughed quietly. "Enough of that," he said. "Politics disgust me—and time grows short. I think you'll like your orders—they get you to Avalon just as soon as you can coax this clapped-out wreck to fly you there."
"Did you say Avalon, sir?" Brim asked, heart suddenly racing.
"You're to take what's left of this scout back to the Technical Intelligence Center, Brim. You can catch a return ride to Truculent from there. And I shall convey the same information to Her Majesty, the Princess Effer'wyck. If I am any judge of quick looks, it will no doubt soften the shock of her reassignment."
Brim felt his face flush. "Th-Thank you, sir," he gulped. "But wouldn't it be a lot quicker to tow us with you? We'll be quite awhile getting there at ten thousand LightSpeed."
"Quicker for you," Shelgar said with a smile, "but a lot slower for us with you trailing at the end of an optical hawser. The Emperor wants Princess Effer'wyck safely under his jurisdiction 'without delay' which means a full-speed run back to Avalon as it is."
"Aye, sir," Brim grumped.
"You'll both survive," Shelgar assured him with a smile. "And speaking of orders—which we weren't—the text of yours ought to be finished downloading by now into your COMM system—read it for the details." He grinned. "Incidentally, Regula asked me to pass this along, too." He took a small metal box from a pocket on his forearm and passed it to Brim. "I just so happened to have one of these lying around in my kit—mine once, now it's yours. You can pass it on yourself someday."
Brim frowned and opened the box. His heart stopped.
"Congratulations," Shelgar said. "From what I bear, you've earned it, full Lieutenant Brim." He laughed. "You'll find we've downloaded all the documentation for that, too. If it's high-flown boredom you're after, it'll make good reading." He clapped the speechless Brim on his shoulder as Amherst reentered the control cabin. "Ready, Puvis?" he asked placing his helmet on his head.
"I certainly am, Uncle," Amherst replied, donning his own helmet. He turned to Brim. "Take care of things as well as you can without me, Brim," he said.
Brim gritted his teeth. "I shall do that, Number One," he said.
"Yes, I'm sure you will," Shelgar said, pushing Amherst into the air lock before him. He winked at Brim as he stepped through himself. "I shall pass along that message we discussed," he said. "And congratulations again." Then he was gone.
Scant ticks later, mooring beams to the cruiser winked out and the big starship bore up for Avalon, disappearing in the blackness with an emerald glow that lingered for nearly a quarter of a metacycle before it faded away. Brim grinned while the remainder of the Truculents clambered through the air lock, ripping off their battle helmets and congratulating him for his promotion all at once. Miraculously, Ursis and Barbousse had procured large bottles of Logish meem—apparently from the emptiness of space itself. He laughed, basking in the warmth of their good wishes, happily clicking goblets with each in turn (first full and right side up, then empty and upside down). Inside, however, his glee stemmed from a different source altogether. He was going to Avalon—and Margot. Somehow, a mere promotion in grade paled in comparison!
It took the Truculents nearly twenty Standard days to nurse the crippled scout into native space, but at last E607's cracked and scarred Hyperscreens began to fill with the glittering star that comprised the heart of the galaxy itself. In due the mighty triad of Asterious blazed forth like a giant beacon suspended above the Universe, drenching all it contained with a glorious golden radiance—and soon thereafter, the five blue-green worlds hove into view: Proteus for science, Melia for commerce, Ariel for communications, Helios for shipping, and The city-planet Avalon herself—throbbing epicenter of an empire that spanned the very galaxy and beyond.