15

The crowded ship's first few hours after the fall were nearly unbearable. The air stank of vomit and urine, and people of all ages swarmed about the chamber, scrambling, shrieking and fighting.

Rees suspected that the problem was not merely weightlessness, but also the abrupt reality of the fall itself. Suddenly to face the truth that the world wasn't an infinite disc after all — to know that the Raft really had been no more than a mote of patched iron floating in the air — seemed to have driven some of the passengers to the brink of their sanity.

Maybe it would have been an idea to keep the windows opaqued during the launch.

Rees spent long hours supervising the construction of a webbing of ropes and cables crisscrossing the Observatory. "We'll fill the interior with this isotropic structure," Hollerbach had advised gravely. "Make it look the same in every direction. Then it won't be quite so disconcerting when we reach the Core and the whole bloody universe turns upside down…"

Soon the passengers were draping blankets over the ropes, fencing off small volumes for privacy. The high-technology interior of the Bridge began to take on a homely aspect as the makeshift shanty town spread; human smells, of food and children, filled the air.

Taking a break, Rees made his way out of the crushed interior to what had formerly been the roof of the Observatory. The hull was still transparent. Rees pressed his face to the warm material and peered out, irresistibly reminded of how he had once peered out of the belly of a whale.

After the fall from the Raft the Bridge had rapidly picked up speed and reoriented itself so that its stubby nose was pointing at the heart of the Nebula. Now it hurtled down through the air, and the Nebula had turned into a vast, three-dimensional demonstration of perspective motion. Nearby clouds shot past, middle distance stars glided toward space — and even at the limits of vision, many hundreds of miles away, pale stars slowly drifted upwards.

The Raft had long since become a mote lost in the pink infinity above.

The hull shuddered briefly. A soundless plume of steam erupted a few yards above Rees's head and was instantly whipped away, a sign that Gord's ramshackle attitude control system was doing its job.

The hull felt warmer than usual against his face. The wind speed out there must be phenomenal, but the virtually frictionless material of the Bridge was allowing the air to slide harmlessly past with barely a rise in temperature. Rees's tired mind ambled down speculative alleyways. If you measured the temperature rise, he reasoned, you could probably get some kind of estimate of the hull's coefficient of friction. But, of course, you would also need some data on the material's heat conduction properties — "It's astonishing, isn't it?"

Nead was at his side. The younger man cradled a sextant in his arms. Rees smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm supposed to be measuring our velocity."

"And?"

"We're at terminal velocity for the strength of gravity out here. I estimate we will reach the Core in about ten shifts…"

Nead delivered his words dreamily, his attention taken up by the view; but they had an electric effect on Rees. Ten shifts… in just ten shifts he would stare at the face -of the Core, and the destiny of the race would be made or lost.

He pulled himself back to the present. "We never did get to finish your training, did we, Nead?"

"Other events were more pressing," Nead said drily.

"Let's find a home where we will always have time to train people properly… time, even, to stare out of the window—"

Jaen started talking even before she reached them. "…And if you don't tell this insufferable old buffoon that he's left his sense of priorities back on the Raft, then I won't be responsible for my actions, Rees!"

Rees groaned inwardly. Evidently his break was over. He turned; Jaen bore down on him with Hol-lerbach following, hauling himself cautiously through the network of ropes. The old Scientist muttered, "I don't believe I've been spoken to like that by a mere Second Class since — since—"

Rees held his hands up. "Slow down, you two. Start from the top, Jaen. What's the problem?"

"The problem," Jaen spat, jerking her thumb, "is this silly old fart, who—"

"Why, you impudent—"

"Shut up!" Rees snapped.

Jaen simmering, made a visible effort to calm down. "Rees. Am I or am I not in charge of the Telescope?"

"That's my understanding."

"And my brief is to make sure that the Navigators — and their Boney so-called assistants — get all the data they need to guide our trajectory around the Core. And that has to be our number one priority. Right?"

Rees rubbed his nose doubtfully. "I can't argue with that…"

"Then tell Hollerbach to keep his damn hands off my equipment!"

Rees turned to Hollerbach, suppressing a smile. "What are you up to, Chief Scientist?"

"Rees…" The old man wrapped his long fingers together, pulling at the loose flesh. "We have left ourselves with only one significant scientific instrument. Now, I've no wish to revisit the arguments behind the loading of this ship. Of course the size of the gene pool must come first…" He thumped one fist into his palm. "Nevertheless it is at precisely this moment of blindness that we are approaching the greatest scientific mystery of this cosmos: the Core itself—"

"He wants to turn the Telescope on the Core," Jaen said. "Can you believe it?"

"The understanding to be acquired by even a superficial study is incalculable."

"Hollerbach, if we don't use that damn telescope to navigate with we might get a closer look at the Core than any of us have bargained for!" Jaen glared at Rees. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Hollerbach looked sadly at Rees. "Alas, lad, I suspect this little local difficulty is only the first impossible arbitration you will be called on to

make."

Rees felt confused, isolated. "But why me?"

Jaen snapped, "Because Decker is still on the Raft. And who else is there?"

"Who indeed?" Hollerbach murmured. "I'm sorry, Rees; I don't think you have very much choice…"

"Anyway, what about this bloody Telescope?"

Rees tried to focus. "All right. Look, Hollerbach, I have to agree that Jaen's work is a priority right now—"

Jaen whooped and punched the air.

"So your studies must fit in around that work. All right? But," he went on rapidly, "when we get close enough to the Core the steam jets will become ineffectual anyway. So navigation will become a waste of time… and the Telescope can be released, and Hollerbach can do his work. Maybe Jaen will even help." He puffed out his cheeks. "How's that for a compromise?"

Jaen grinned and punched him on the shoulder. "We'll make a Committee member of you yet." She turned and pulled her way back into the interior of the chamber.

Rees felt his shoulders slump. "Hollerbach, I'm too young to be a Captain. And I've no desire for the job."

Hollerbach smiled gently. "That last alone probably qualifies you as well as anyone. Rees, I fear you must face it; you're the only man on board with first-hand experience of the Belt, the Raft, the Bone world… and so you're the only leader figure remotely acceptable to all the ship's disparate factions. And after all it has been your drive, your determination, that has brought us so far. Now you're stuck with this responsibility, I fear.

"And there are some hard decisions ahead. Assuming we round the Core successfully we will face rationing, extremes of temperature in the unknown regions outside the Nebula — even boredom will be a life-threatening hazard! You will have to keep us functioning in extraordinary circumstances. If I can assist you in any way, of course, I will."

"Thanks. I don't much like the idea, but I guess you are right. And to help me you could start," he said sharply, "by sorting out your differences with Jaen yourself."