Chapter 12: Conflict

"Thousands of these specks?" Captain Jeryth glared down at Berniss as though he could change her report by the sheer force of his will. "All through Skryben? That can't be possible!"

"It's possible, all right. It's just highly unlikely," she responded. "All through her flesh, in all parts of her body. There are millions of them, but only a very small percentage are of the right size and shape to cause trouble. Those particular metal flecks just happen to be of just the right size to resonate to the pulse of re entry energies. The rest should cause no particular trouble, at least not right away."

"All right, then. I suppose that I have to accept your answer, at least for now. How can we neutralize the effects of these specks?"

"We can't." Her answer was blunt and to the point. "The bits of metal must be eliminated. The pain is only a symptom of what's wrong. Every bit of metallo organic flesh within Skryben is sprinkled with these flecks of metal, acting as antennae for the forces released when we return to normal space at the end of a jump. Each jump causes the discharge of energy from these flecks, and this in turn damages the flesh around them. The damage is cumulative, and will in time cause the death of the organism if it is allowed to continue."

"The death of Skryben? From these... , these insignificant specks of metal? It doesn't seem possible!" Captain Jeryth paced back and forth across the bare cubicle, then turned to face them. It was the first time that Rand had seen him so upset. "And, if they are not eliminated? How much longer can Skryben continue to jump? Can we reach the cluster we're heading for?"

"I would very much doubt it. Long before her body dies, her mind would be destroyed. Remember, the flecks are distributed almost at random throughout her flesh. That includes her brain, as well as the rest of her body. Each jump destroys a part of her computational ability, her mind and her memories." Berniss shook her head. She stood erect before the captain's anger, her face showing lines of age and responsibility. She no longer looked young, but Rand thought that her appearance of greater age gave her a poise and maturity that suited her well. "No, the metal flecks are only the root of our problem. The problem itself is the continued survival of Skryben and all aboard her."

"Well stated, Medic Morss." Captain Jeryth stopped his pacing, and Rand could feel the effort that it took for him to appear calm. "What is the answer to the problem, then? Can the specks be removed individually?"

"No, they can't." Her answer was as direct as his question had been. "Oh, we can remove a few of them, at the cost of adding to the damage. That's how we discovered what they were, thanks to Officer Korsun's perception of the source of Skryben's pains. No, there are too many of them. Removing them would take months, perhaps years. Then, too, there's no way that we could get all of them. We can't go probing about inside of Skryben's brain. Even if we could get all of the particles that are causing the trouble, any stress that would cause the remaining particles to grow or shrink would put us right back where we started from."

"Then what is your recommendation? For the record, just how do you propose to get us to where we are going? Or do you have an answer?"

"I have more than one answer. Most problems in the real world have more than one solution, not like the questions in a textbook. First, of course, is to do nothing about the flecks. If we do not use Skryben's ability to jump, we can reach our goal through normal space. Officer Korsun can tell you how long that would take."

"Officer Korsun? Just how long would that be?"

"We are almost exactly twelve light years from the target cluster, traveling at approximately one eighth of the speed of light through normal space. If we increase our acceleration to a full two standard gravities, we can reach it in four years and nine months, ship time."

"And if we continue at our present acceleration?"

"Six years, and two months. Six years and nine months, if we reduce acceleration to one standard gravity."

"I see. That would be about sixteen years, real time. That's far too long. Medic Morss? You said that there were other solutions?"

"Possibly. The best one would be to find some way to resorb the particles into Skryben's body. This would allow the existing lesions to heal, as well. It could be done with the medical equipment available at any Fleet base, but of course that equipment isn't available here." Berniss shook her head slightly, as though shrugging off an unpleasant thought. "Neither is the raw material to regrow Skryben's flesh. I will have to experiment with what I have, and see what can be done."

"And, in the meantime? What do you recommend that I do? Or you, Officer Korsun?"

"Continue braking down to a more normal velocity," Rand answered when Berniss didn't respond. "There'll be plenty of time to build up speed again if we have to. I would suggest that we reduce the power to our inertial drives to one standard gravity or less, for now. It'll make it a lot easier on the rest of the crew."

"Very well." Captain Jeryth ushered them to the door of his quarters. "I'll give the order to do so. Oh, and since you are so well attuned to Skryben's feelings, you might offer your assistance to Medic Morss with her experiments. There will be little need of your talents on the bridge for some time."

The door closed softly behind them. They looked at each other for a moment, then Berniss shrugged.

"He took it well enough," she commented as they headed for the man hoist.

"I guess so." Rand didn't say any more until they were in the corridor outside sick bay. "He didn't pick up on one thing that you told him, though."

"I wondered if you would catch it." She gave him a twisted smile. "I couldn't think of any easier way to put it, either. 'Every bit of metallo organic flesh is sprinkled with these flecks of metal, acting as antennae for the forces released when we return to normal space at the end of a jump. Each jump causes the discharge of energy from these flecks, and this in turn damages the flesh around them. The damage is cumulative, and will in time cause the death of the organism if it continues.' Not just Skryben's flesh. His body and brain. Your heart and lung."

"That brings it home, all right. If we jump; I die, the Captain dies, Skryben dies. Not necessarily in that order, perhaps, but so what?"

"THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING." The voice resounded throughout Skryben, echoing from strategically placed speakers so that everyone could hear. "ACCELLERATION IS BEING REDUCED TO 0.65 STANDARD GRAVITY. THERE WILL BE NO MORE JUMPS UNTIL FURTHER NOTIFICATION. THAT IS ALL."

His weight decreased smoothly, and through his linkage with Skryben, Rand could feel the wave of relief that washed through the crew's minds at the reprieve from the constant crushing pressure of a gravity that was almost twice what most of them were accustomed to. One standard gravity, ten meters per second, per second, would still have been one and a half times what Skryben normally used, but they could have taken it. It felt even better to go back to their normal weight after more than three months of feeling so heavy. Rand remembered what one of his instructors had said about living on one of the Imperial Cluster's larger planets. 'It's not nearly as much fun, particularly if you're the one on the bottom.'

"What are you going to do about the metal particles," he asked, bringing his attention back to the problems facing them. "And, can I help?"

"I really don't know," she answered, deep in thought. "And, no, you can't. Not yet, anyway. Not unless you can think of some way to come up with a few kilotons of nutrients for Skryben's system. Unless I'm very much mistaken, we're going to have to do an almost complete regrowth of all her flesh."

"Can't we use the old flesh, recycle it?"

"Most of it, of course. That isn't the problem, speed is. Each section will have to be grown separately, then grafted into place. We need enough nutrients to grow each section, while the old section is still in place. We only have enough nutrients in our stores to regrow a very small section of Skryben's flesh at once."

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Well, call me when you need me. For anything, even if it's just for someone to bounce your thoughts off of."

"I'll do that." She smiled at him, and for an instant she was her old, serene self. "Go on, now, and relax for a while. There won't be anything you can do to help me until I've had time to do a little research on our problem."

Rand left, glowing slightly. 'Our problem, ' she'd said. He didn't want to go back to the bridge, not until he had to. Captain Jeryth would be there, and he'd prefer to keep his thoughts and calculations to himself until he had something concrete to show for them.

His own quarters weren't much smaller than the Captain's, and seemed larger. His bunk folded against one wall when he wasn't using it, leaving room for a chair and a table that swung out beneath his visiscreen. He pulled his auxiliary keyboard out of its slot, and flipped on his screen. He wouldn't use mind to mind contact with Skryben for this, either. No telling who could be listening in.

' display scan of nearby space. Radius, one fourth light year, one hundred and eighty degree hemisphere centered on your present course. '

Slowly, the three dimensional picture built up within his screen. At first, there was nothing. Space about them was empty, with an emptiness impossible to attain within the confines of a cluster. There were a few billion stray molecules of hydrogen, of course, sweeping past Skryben's hull every second. She could have spread a kilometers wide fan of energies, sweeping up these bits of matter, but it would have taken her months to accumulate a large enough sample to fill a one liter beaker at atmospheric pressure. There might even have been a few milligrams of other elements included, a trace of dust on the bottom of the container, but nothing that would have been of any help. Scarcely more hydrogen than would have been burned in her one remaining fusion engine to power the energy fan.

No, their only hope was that, somewhere within her extreme reach, Skryben could locate some wandering ice ball, lost from around a sun at an earlier stage in Mother Galaxy's development. Such things did exist, that he knew. Scientists had found them, floating serenely between the stars. Cold, lonely, frozen lumps of gas and dust. He'd seen holos of them, gray with dust, irregular to the point of insanity. Falling too close to a sun, they would become comets. Not a likely fate, considering how much empty space there was in even the densest clusters.

' scan completed. Nothing detected. '

' minimum size of detectable object within scanning range? '

' on radar, one centimeter at 100,000 kilometers, inversely proportional to fourth power of distance. On infra red, distance proportional to temperature. At ambient temperature, no detection possible against background. '

' time to decrease present residual velocity to zero, deceleration at 0.65 standard gravity? '

' sixty seven days, zero minutes, forty seconds from... Mark! '

' distance covered? '

' 109,000,000,000 kilometers. Four light days, four hours, and fifty minutes. '

' probability of finding ice ball of more than 1,000 tons, before coming to rest? '

' computing... '

' computing... '

' computing... '

The moments stretched out as Rand watched the screen. Finally, numbers began to appear, only to wash out into a gray blur.

' computing... '

' computing... '

' one chance in 25,000, plus or minus... '

' re computing. '

' computing... '

' computing... '

' correction, one chance in 250, plus or minus 125. '

' display factors used in computations. '

Rand leaned forward and studied the screen as rows of figures appeared. At last, satisfied, he relaxed.

' recompute, using present velocity, but with alternating deceleration and acceleration toward target cluster, giving present velocity as average. Compute median interval until detection of ice ball of more than 1,000 tons mass. '

' computing... '

' computing... '

' computing... '

' re computing. '

' computing... '

' interval of one hundred and forty seven years, plus or minus seventy four years. '

' display factors used in computations. '

Again, Rand studied the figures presented to him, keying in several sequences to make sure that they were correct.

' well done, Skryben. Store these computations for re display. '

Rand stared morosely at the screen for a long time before shutting it off. A very small chance that they might find a rogue ice ball, out here between the star clusters. Oh well, it could have been worse, and they could get lucky. He was only surprised that their chances were that good. Now, to convince Captain Jeryth that they should keep their present intrinsic velocity...