Sluggishly he formulated a question and displayed it across his fevered and frayed consciousness.
We are Quath’jutt’kkal’thon. We carried you before.
“What… happens…”
We must cautiously adjust our dynamics.
Killeen could not understand. As he watched, the ivory curve of the planet rolled up in the wall screen. Farther away the cosmic string hung unmoving, a dull amber arc.
He felt the Cyber sway and rock in slow undulations. He could see great long swells racing toward them from the center of the Skysower. Waves excited by the air turbulence. As they reflected at the tip they gave it a sharp snap, like a whip cracking. The Cyber held on grimly.
Vibrations had moved his hand away from Shibo. He rolled to look at her and pain lanced into his shoulder. Her eyelids were sunken. He could not tell if she was still alive.
As they rose farther above the planet the whole disk became visible. Repeated sucking of the core metal had smashed the outlines of mountain ranges. Rivers now cut fresh paths. Lakes had spilled into new muddy reservoirs, leaving enormous bare brown plains.
He could see all of Skysower now. It curved like a slender snake that smoothly turned head over tail. The far end was just piercing the atmosphere. Undulations ran like waves in a long string, driven by the supersonic collision of this gargantuan living being with its blanket of air.
As he watched he slowly realized that some of the thicker vines nearby were throbbing. Bulges in them contracted rhythmically. It came to him that Skysower had to circulate its fluids, like any living thing. These coarse, chestnut-brown tubes were like vegetable hearts, working against the eternal outward thrust that came from Skysower’s spin. Somewhere beneath the grainy bark something like muscles must be sliding and clenching, to righten displacements and masses and maintain the even turning of the huge whirling organism.
Suddenly, at the edge of his vision, he saw plumes of gas burst forth at the nearby teak-colored horizon. Luminous geysers caught the sun’s rays. From the Cyber he caught a thread of understanding. To keep itself rotating, this huge thing breathed in air during its passage. Then it exhaled, perhaps burning the gases in some fashion to gain added thrust. This paid back the momentum stolen by the atmosphere’s supersonic turbulence.
All this came to him as he fought the sure rise of pressure against his chest. He thought distantly now, barely able to hold on to consciousness against the worsening weight.
Then something rushed by them and caught his attention. A second tubular shape passed nearby and he saw that hot yellow balls burned at regular intervals along its length. He remembered the forest fire. These were the trees that the vines had snagged from the forest below.
Against blurring pressure he still managed to feel surprise. The forests of umbrella-topped trees—they must have grown from the Skysower’ s own seeds. Snatched up on the harvesting vines, they had now been ćarried aloft. Some deep biochemical command had activated their stores of fuel. Far from being a mech energy resource, as Killeen had guessed, these trees were now expending their stored chemical energy to launch themselves away from their mother plant.
Another tree shot past. Yellow plumes pushed it to high velocity. It hurtled after its fellows, which were already shrinking logs.
After conferring with Grey (not an easy business, I assure you) I calculate that our speed exceeds thirteen kilometers per second. In your terms—
“Skip the techtalk,” Killeen muttered. “What’s it mean?”
This creature—and I do not necessarily agree that it is simply a plant, given its many animallike functions, including an active circulation system—is spreading its progeny. They leave it here, at the top of its arc, with maximal velocity. They can easily reach the outer precincts of this solar system. From there they can drift to other stars. Seeding, pure and simple.
Killeen stared at Shibo and thought fruitlessly, rummaging for some way to repair her systems’ failure. She grew whiter.
I am repeating the speculations of the Grey woman, of course. I have done the calculations and what she proposes is marginally within possibility.
“So… so in every one of those trees there’s a seed for another Skysower?”
Killeen could barely breathe. He watched the trees jet away on their columns of flame. To swim the sea of stars. To grow into more Skysowers. Life persistent and undeniable. They hung within view over the still body of Shibo.
His bones seemed to stretch. He grasped for Shibo and could not reach her. Distant bass notes came strumming through the Cyber’s body as waves made the woody surface thrash and twist.
Suddenly the Cyber freed its hold on the bark. All of its visible legs withdrew their steel grapplers and instead pushed against the brown surface. Instantly the oppressive weight lifted. Killeen floated in complete freedom.
“Are you—” He hugged Shibo. Did her eyes flutter?
In complete silence the Cyber rose away from Skysower’s slim silhouette. The turning ribbon now pointed straight down into the wounded planet.
They shot out along a tangent to Skysower’s whirling arc. Soon it had rotated below them. It was again a thin line cutting across the face of the ruined world.
We are properly pointed, the strangely liquid thoughts of the Cyber came. My sisters have stilled the Cosmic Circle so it presents no obstacle. We are entering a rendezvous orbit.
“Where?”
Close to the station. Your vessel lies there. There is a task awaiting your kind.
“Hurry! There’re medical supplies on Argo—”
Killeen peered ahead and saw a glimmering that beckoned and promised.
But Shibo died long before they could reach it.?
EPILOG
SAILING WITH THE TIDE
The Cap’n walked the hull again.
A long time seemed to have passed since he last was here. Only a few weeks, he knew. But time was not truly measured by the ticking of unseen arbiters. It made its lasting marks in the soul.
In that distant time he had watched the approach of the station, wondering what forces marshaled there. Problems of command had vexed him. He had fretted over whether to assault the huge, silvery construction. He could see the station now, too—a platinum-hard dab of light swimming near the brown crescent of New Bishop.
The name mocked him. The Bishops had found the same ageold trials here. This place had meant more struggle, not a peaceful destination. And losses. Huge, bitter losses.
“Shibo,” he said. “Is this link working?”
