Starplex by Robert J. Sawyer Page A

schematic representation of what was happening. At the left was the bulging hemisphere of the part of the star that had already protruded from the shortcut. The shortcut itself was seen from the side as a vertical line. Behind that, and receding away from it, was the diamond-shaped profile of Starplex. As the equator passed out of the shortcut, the hole the shortcut made in space started shrinking, and photons and charged particles from the star began spilling backward. The edges of the radiation backwash were like the hands of a clock starting at noon and six and converging toward three o'clock.
    Thor pushed Starplex as hard as he could. Keith could see constellations of yellow warning indicators lighting up on the pilot's panel.. The ship continued to climb out of the star's gravity well, its escape tunnel narrowing as the shortcut shrank in size.
    "Lansing!" shouted Jag. "The dark-matter field is moving--moving away from the star."
    "Could it be because of that repulsive force you mentioned?"
    Jag moved both sets of shoulders. "It's not the kind of effect I'd predict, but--"
    "Lower-deck evacuation now complete," said Lianne, swinging around to face the director.
    "Even so," said Thor, "we're going to take one hell of a lot radiation kick when that backwash hits us."
    Finally, the star finished emerging, and the shortcut disappeared. At that point, Thor switched all power from the engines to the force screens, trying to deflect as much of the incoming radiation as possible. Starplex continued to travel under momentum. The radiation alarm began to warble again.
    "Are we far enough away?" Keith asked. Thor was too busy with the controls to answer. "Are we far enough away?" he asked again.
    Jag did some calculations. "I think so," he said, "but only because we're using the ocean deck as shielding. Otherwise, we would all have taken a lethal dose."
    "All right," Keith said. "Let's continue on until we're at a safe distance. Lianne, draw up a new duty roster that makes minimal use of cetaceans, and put any nonessential dolphins into medical hibernation until we can replace the water on the ocean deck. At the rate the star is receding from the shortcut, it'll be days before we can approach the portal safely." He paused, then: "Good work, everyone. Rhombus, what's the status of our docking bays?"

    "They should still be usable. Their walls are heavily shielded against radiation leakage, in case a ship crashes or explodes in them."
    "Good," said Keith. "Thor, let me know when we're an acceptable distance from that star." He turned to the Waldahud. "Jag, you should go have a close look at it. I want to know exactly where it came from and why it's here."

Chapter VIII
    It had taken a long time for humans to decipher dolphin speech. When they finally did so, delphinese names turned out to be sonargrams of individual dolphins, with their most unusual physical characteristics exaggerated. It was no surprise, then, that the only form of human art dolphins really enjoyed was political cartooning.
    One of Starplexs' best probeship pilots was a dolphin whose English name was Longbottle--a poor substitute for the song of trills and clicks that painted a caricature of him for his kinfolk, emphasizing his mighty snout.
    Longbottle's favorite probeship was the Rum Runner, a bronze wedge twenty meters long and ten wide. A water tank ran down the ship's axis.
    To the left and right were separate air-filled habitats that joined at the rear in a U-shape with an airlock between them. The port side was normally kept to human standards; the starboard was set to cooler Waldahud conditions.
    To pilot the vessel, Longbottle let small free-floating sensor drones clamp onto his flukes and pectoral fins. The ship had hundreds of attitude-control jets that allowed it to move in direct approximation of the dolphin's own movements in his tank. Such a technique was extraordinarily wasteful of fuel--so much so that the Waldahudin had refused to bid on the