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Enormous energies were expended, and the Wild Goose Chase
squeezed through a hole in the space/time continuum. A moment
later, it was somewhere else.
Wolruf engaged the autopilot. With careful and precise thruster
bursts, the ship stabilized its tumble. The viewscreen blanked,
cleared, and displayed a binary star consisting of a yellow giant and
its white dwarf companion.
With obvious effort, Wolruf relaxed her grip on the jump handle and
sagged back into the acceleration couch.
 Where are we? Derec asked softly.
Mandelbrot spoke up.  I am working on that. We will have a rough
navigational fix within six hours, and coordinates precise enough to
begin programming another jump in twenty-three. 
 Twenty-three hours? But what if Aranimas follows us?
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 Then we are caught.  Mandelbrot exchanged a stream of bits with
the data terminal.  Given the availability of free hydrogen in this
system, it will be a minimum of ninety-one point five hours before we
have accumulated enough hydrogen to fuel another hyperspace jump.

Derec frowned.  Well, if that s it, then, it ll have to do. Deploy the
ramscoops, Mandelbrot. 
 I have already done so. 
 Thanks. Wolruf?
The small alien rolled over and looked at Derec with eyes that had
gone past fright and were now simply exhausted.
 Wolruf? You were his navigator once. How did Aranimas find us
again?
Wolruf brought a foot up and scratched her ear thoughtfully.  Don t
know. 
 But his sensor technology 
 Iss whatev r  e can steal. No tellin what  e s got now.  ;
Derec frowned again. Then his face brightened.  Well, there s no
point in worrying about it. As Mandelbrot pointed out, if he can follow
us, the Goose is cooked.  He turned to Wolruf and smiled.  But I
don t think that s a real issue. We got away clean. I mean, every
schoolboy knows that it s physically impossible to track a ship
through hyperspace, right?
Wolruf got up on one elbow, reached across the couch, and rested a
furry hand on Derec s shoulder.
 Derec, she whispered,  I don t think Aranimas went to  ur school. 
CHAPTER 9
WHITETAIL
Old LifeCrier, spiritual leader of the kin of PackHome and self
proclaimed First Believer in SilverSides, sat at the mouth of the cave,
watching the milling throng in the clearing below.  Do you hear that,
daughter? he said proudly, using the informal words of KinSpeech.
 They re all speaking my name. 
From somewhere inside the cave, WhiteTail answered,  That s sweet,
Father. 
He ignored the humoring tone in her voice and looked back out over
the crowd.   LifeCrier, that s what they re saying.  We ve traveled for
days to hear LifeCrier.   He let his tongue loll out and smiled clear
back to his fourth bicuspids.  You never thought your old father
would be heard beyond the pack. 
WhiteTail carried a few old dry bones up from the darkness and
deposited them in the rubbish heap near the opening.  Of course I
did, Father.  She turned to head back into the darkness, but he
reached out a paw and gently stopped her.
 Look at them, WhiteTail. Just took at them. What do you see?
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WhiteTail stood up on her hind legs and surveyed the crowd. Then,
with a disgusted snort, she dropped back down to all fours.  I see
about two hundred extra mouths to feed. We re running low on food
as it is. 
The old kin smiled sadly and shook his head.  Oh, ye of little vision.
That s the beginnings of the Great Pack out there. 
WhiteTail sniffed disdainfully.  It s a hungry mob of outcasts,
younglings, and losers, that s what it is. Not ten decent hunters in the
lot of them. And certainly no hunt leader. 
LifeCrier ignored her.  Think of it, daughter. We have the privilege to
be a part of the greatest thing that s ever happened to the kin. First
SilverSides came down from the OldMother. Now the Great Pack is
forming. Soon all the packs will be united, and the sharpfangs will be
driven away forever. We re seeing untold generations of prophecy
fulfilled right before our very eyes!
WhiteTail sighed heavily and cast a distempered look at her father.
 Do the prophecies say anything at all about how we re supposed to
feed them?
 Oh, my short-sighted daughter.  He tried to wrap his tail around her
shoulder, but she shrugged it off.  Still thinking about mere physical
needs when we have the spiritual sustenance of SilverSides?
WhiteTail jumped to her feet and impatiently twitched her long, whip-
like tail.  All I m saying is that somebody better do some hunting
around here, or SilverSides is going to be short a few followers if she
comes again. 
 When, daughter.  LifeCrier slowly roused to his feet and stretched
out in an easy yawn.  When SilverSides comes again, she will lead us
to all we could ever hope for. Good knives. Warm furs. More food
than, than 
WhiteTail s eyes narrowed.  Yes? I m listening. 
 Well, more food than you can imagine, anyway. We won t want for
anything. 
 And in the meantime we re just supposed to sit and wait patiently?
 Don t worry, daughter. SilverSides will lead and protect us. She
promised she would. Just as she promised that she would return. 
WhiteTail turned around in a tight, nervous circle, glared at her
father, and turned around again. Whatever was left of her patience
finally gave up the ghost.
 You addled old fool! For twelve days and nights now you ve kept the
hunt here in PackHome and filled their heads with stories of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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