The man with sandy-golden hair, Hawaiian shirt, Levis, running shoes, and a broad-bladed, two-handed sword alighted from the disk-shaped electrostatic aerocraft. The sword he carried in its scabbard, tucked casually under one arm. At his knee trotted a large, white, shaggy dog with a perpetual black-lipped smile.
Together they crossed the little green valley which, as far as they knew, contained the only way to get into the billion-year-old Predecessor starship still known as 5023 Eris. Theyand everybody else presently living on what had originally been thought to be an asteroidnow knew there was another way of getting out.
Near the entrance stood a fabric awning on a pair of poles, shading two human figures and a table which had earlier been scattered with Predecessor artifacts. Now the ancient objects were divided into two piles, one large, and one rather smaller. Beside the small pile was an even smaller collection of fabric bags and plastic boxes containing the personal possessions and clothing of two individuals.
"Going somewhere, Corporal?"
A heavyset man with curly black hair looked up as Eichra Oren and Sam approached the lean-to. The Antarctican didn't give Owen time to answer, but thrust a hand into his front pants pocket to remove an oddly shaped chrome-shiny object with edges and corners that were softly rounded and a tiny orifice in front blackened by terrible heat. "You'll want to take this."
Standing with Owen, Toya gasped and stepped behind him.
"Yeah," Sam added in a voice that anyone could hear, presently laden with sarcasm. "Leaving it behind is probably a violation of the Prime Directive or something."
Owen threw back his shaggy head and roared with laughter. "The Prime Directive was a fictional device dreamed up by liberals to keep the populations of Third World countries in their place. My people believe in acts of capitalism between consenting adults."
He blinked with the reflexive gesture of a person consulting his implant, probably to see what time it was.
"Tell you what, Eichra Oren: you can give me back my plasma gun, or give me yours and keep mine. Make one hell of a souvenir, won't it?"
"I'll say." Aloud, Eichra Oren read what had been stamped on the side of the little weapon: "B&G `Hornet' 5.0 Megawatt Fusion Pocket Model Pistol, Borchert & Graham Energy Weapons, Ltd., Anson Springs, New Colorado, Galactic Confederacy."
"I had that new," Owen told him, "a long time ago. It's seen a lot of light-years."
Toya did glance at her ASF-issue wristwatch. "We have five minutes." She turned and began moving their containers into a line a few feet away from the tent.
Returning the B&G Hornet to his pocket, Eichra Oren grinned and extracted his own plasma weaponboxier and a bit less powerful, but considerably smallerand handed it to the corporal. Then he went to help Toya, as did Owen.
"Any time now," Owen told him, and as he did, an impossibly brilliant tiny blue speck appeared in the air directly over the luggage and instantly widened into a fiercely blue-edged circle.
Behind it, Eichra Oren saw what looked like the lobby of a small, modern hotelexcept that the plan was circular, and through the windows on the opposite side of the room, he could see stars against the night black of open space. In the great distance hung an object like the top quarter of a titanic orange, painted a searing white.
"Safety first!" The "corporal" hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "This probability broach is open on a small auxiliary vessel about the size of one of General Gutierrez's late lamented shuttlecraft. The ship you see out there beyond the windows is eight and a half miles in diameter, one of the Great Ships of the Galactic Confederacy.
"My real name is Owen Rogers, staff praxeologist aboard the Tom Paine Maru."
"Staff what?" Sam demanded.
"Look it up," replied Rogers, touching a sleeve of his filmsuit. Its surface clouded and resolved into a glaring plaid. "We have to be going, me and my war bride." He grinned at Toya who blushed and grinned back. "But I left most of the Predecessor stuff for Mister Thoggosh, and there's a message for him if you'll deliver it."
Eichra Oren nodded. "Of course."
"Tell him that we're friendly, but that he should be aware from now on that the Elders aren't the only ones watching all the alternative worlds of probability."
Within the aperture, a nonhumana chimpanzee, Eichra Oren thoughtbecame visible, reaching through and grabbing boxes and bags. "Get a move on, Owen, we haven't got all day!"
Rogers shrugged, took Toya's arm, stepped through onto a carpeted deck, and flapped a hand in a gesture of farewell. Toya blew the debt assessor and his assistant a kiss.
The circle closed to a blinding dot and popped out of existence.
"Hmm."
"I'll see that, Boss, and raise you a whatthefuck. I wonder how the all-seeing, all-knowing, all-confused Elders missed that universe in their survey fifteen thousand years ago."
Eichra Oren shrugged. "They didn't. I think it must have diverged historically since then. Let's get back and deliver our message. And maybe Rosalind will have some free time."
"I certainly hope so, Boss."
Eichra Oren frowned down at the dog. "Why?"
"I wanted to thank her."
He sat on his haunches, held up a paw, and spread the toes. One toe on the outside spread further than the rest and turned to touch the tips of each of the others in turn.
"Thumbs!"