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other but not something new. You have never truly believed in the Cosmology,
even from the start. I've known that. I think we all did. But you believed in
it over all the alternatives."
He sighed and gave her a sad sort of smile. "In a sense, I think I do
understand." And he did, although his heart ached. He went over to her, took
her hand, and kissed it. "As you say, I, too, am of Mizlaplan."
He could see her tears, and fought with all his self-control to hold back his
own. Of all the losses of this great adventure, though, this one was the most
difficult to accept.
Worse, what he'd already determined made it the best result, for now there was
hope again for any future at all.
Josef's voice suddenly came on the intercom speakers. "What the hell
happened?"
he growled. "There's nothing on the scanners! Nothing on the screens! We're
dead and flying blind!"
HARD TRUTHS
TOBRUSH HAD TAKEN HIS INNER, REAL SELF OUT of their mind-link, but Josef had
still been able to follow the Mycohl master's physical actions, which seemed
quite ordinary. This made the sudden freeze in all systems all the more
inexplicable.
Tobrush decided to kick in on the intercom so that all of them could be
reassured.
"We are under the control of my own kind," it assured them. "No measurements
or recordings are permitted in this place."
There was a slight jar and the ship shuddered.
"That is a shuttle for me," Tobrush told them. "You cannot come, but you will
be safe and guarded here until I return."
"We have always been a team!" Josef protested. "Why can't we go with you?"
"You could," the Mycohlian responded, "but only your body would return. By
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Marathon%203%20-%20Ninety%20Trillion%20.txt keeping you here, I hope to
preserve you. Somehow, I still believe that all of us are essential to the
success of our operation. Now, stand clear, I am coming down."
Josef met Tobrush at the hatch. "How long will you be gone?" he asked.
"I do not know. There are sufficient supplies on board, and I will arrange for
the tanks to be serviced and the lost air reserve replaced. As for me, it
might be hours, it might be much longer. If it is too long I shall send word.
The decision on what to do next will shortly be out of my hands, and I will be
following orders. In the meantime, the mind-link will allow me to monitor you
here. No harm must come to anyone aboard this vessel while I am gone, Josef.
You, as commander of the vessel, are responsible and accountable. You are
right on the edge, Josef, of either again becoming the responsible top officer
with great potential you were, or tipping over into Kalia's mental realm. Much
depends on how wisely you decide."
The hatch opened, and the Julki body oozed through it and down into the
shuttle below.
Gun Roh Chin sat at the quartermaster's table in the bubble and picked up a
stylus. Putting it to the white-surfaced table, he drew a small design which
the table then showed in stark black and white outlines.
He moved above it and drew:
Below it, he drew yet another shape, the same as the second but reversed:
"I'm missing something," he muttered to himself. But what? To the right of the
star he sketched:
He stared at them, certain that what he was looking for was now in front of
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his eyes, but, somehow, he couldn't make the jigsaw fit.
He heard someone come up into the bubble and turned to see who it might be. It
was Modra.
She had a lot of bruises and some scratches, but still somehow appeared softer
than in the descent and the city, as if all the hard edges, the toughness, the
fight, as it were, had gone out of her.
She said nothing right away but came over behind him and just looked at what
he was drawing. Finally she said, "Sorry if I'm interruptin'," in a lower,
sexier voice than she'd used before the last few days. It was almost as if she
was consciously trying to turn herself not into Grysta but into the original
Molly.
"No, no, not at all," he responded. "There seemed little else to do but sit
and think right now."
"Yeah. Josef's suddenly got himself sealed up in the cockpit said he had to
sort some things out, whatever that means and I'm a little scared of Jimmy
right now."
"Overall, I'd say Jimmy is more dangerous to himself right now than to anyone
else," he commented. "Deep down, he's a very good, very moral man with too
much ego and not enough will to resolve his problems on his own. He needs
help, but
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Marathon%203%20-%20Ninety%20Trillion%20.txt his ego stands in the way of
accepting that, and his ego is all he's really got left."
She sighed. "I threw my ego over the side days ago and I'm sleepin' better
than
I have in months."
"Krisha tried that, and the result was so empty it nearly destroyed her. Each
person is very different."
"Yeah, I know about Krisha, and I think she's nuts. Being the wife of a
freighter captain, living on board, seeing different places that don't try to
kill you while havin' all the peace and quiet you want, that's perfect. If you
ever want a replacement, I'm available." She started, massaging his neck and
shoulders.
"You're married," he reminded her, but the massage felt too good to tell her
to stop.
"A temporary thing, if 1 ever get back there, and if he hasn't already
declared me dead anyway," she told him. "He's a very sweet man, but it was a
marriage on impulse, without either of us even knowin' the other. Besides, I
didn't say you had to-marry me."
"We don't do such things in the Mizlaplan. The whole system is designed to
create a uniformity of thought and behavior. I'm beginning to believe it's a
kind of long-term defense. The Church, synthesized out of countless other
religions of the races incorporated into the Mizlaplan, evolving to meet its
needs but always strict, makes it nearly impossible for cults tied to the
Quintara and what they stand for to exist, at least for very long. I doubt if
you'd like or accept those rules. Besides, with your current multiplicity of
talents, they'd haul you in and make you a priestess like Krisha. As long as
all the talents are in the priesthood and out maintaining the system,
large-scale rebellion and conspiracies are next to impossible."
"Yeah? You ever been married, Captain?"
"Me? No. To commit to marriage I'd have to know the woman well, first, and my
life and profession do not lead to many long-term associations with ordinary
folks. I'm not against it, it's just one passion of mine ruling out other
passions, as it were."
"Oh, come on! You're no virgin, Captain! You're a real gentleman and a
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