
set it gently on the floor. With his breath coming faster and tight off the top of his lungs, he lifted the
diadem, touching the exquisite thing gently, carefully, fingertips only, even though ten thousand years of
legend testified to the indestructibility of those hair-fine threads.
As he held the diadem it sang to him in a faint ripple of single pure notes. He stroked his hand across the
flowers, the agonizing beauty of the notes that answered his touch curling around his mind until, half
tranced, he almost settled it on his own head. He wrenched his numbed brain free and hastily folded the
supple circlet and shoved it in the special insulated pouch hanging on his belt….
The light winds curled and spit around him, slamming his tiny stingship end over end. He took a deep
breath and slowed his body down, relaxing the tension that was bouncing him against the crash-web with
bruising force. Behind him the stink of the laboring computer naked with small metallic creaks of
overburdened metal… ahead, the screen howled with savage colors, a fantastic whirl, demon-haunted,
three suns revolving about a common center of gravity passing hydrogen from one to the other in ragged
golden rivers, the fields of forces battling there twisting and distorting even the tough fabric of space itself.
The black midge danced and fluttered, edging along, pushed to the limit of its very special capabilities.
Pain sat at the base of his spine like a spiked pillow. Sounds beat in his ears and scratched at his brain,
aborting his spasmodic attempts to pull his mind together. He clung to consciousness with a determination
dredged from the marrow of his bones, yelling a long, soundless scream to dominate the pain and noise
inside his ballooning skull.
Faster and faster they spun, man and ship. The air around him grew thick with the effluents of strain…
the argrav console whined and shuddered… points of electric-blue fire danced among the circuits… the
violent hungry forces swirling around the suns battered and wrenched at the tough metal splinter.
Suddenly the ship lurched sideways, plunging down and around into a wild corkscrewing tumble. The
overworked crash-web popped loose, banging his jaw against the support bar. His eyes glazed over and
a trickle of blood oozed out the corner of his mouth….
A long satin slide into a pool of calm… the stingship purred along at cruise speed, spit out like a plum
seed from around the edge of the bronze-green sun. With clumsy fingers the thief tripped the lock bars
and let the crash-web flip to rest. Hands on armrests, he pushed himself painfully upright, the pressure
couch following the movements of his body. He rubbed his hands together, smiling, bruised but intact,
though the ship had been driven far beyond her remarkable capacity.
In front of him the console breathed scattered spurts of blue and stinking smoke. When he frowned and
ran his fingers over the board, the ship responded sluggishly. Currents of air tugged by uneven gravity
flows carried the blue smoke in stinging tatters around his face. Coughing and sputtering he rubbed his
running nose and screwed up his aching eyes.
“Luv!”
“Yes, Stavver?” The computer’s soft contralto voice sounded a little ragged around the edges.
“Scrub this air, will you. Can’t see a thing.”
“Stavver, I’m badly damaged. I’ll try….” A sharp screech stabbed at his eardrums. “Pardon me,” she
said hastily, the human qualities of the voice eroding under the strain of her injuries.
Stavver chuckled. He thought,Trust Luv to maintain the proprieties . He peered into the flickering