Beyond the Farthest Suns Read Online Free PDF

Graetikin said.
    â€œI’ve been trying to find out what that reason is. I might have a clue.”
    â€œThat doesn’t concern us now,” Fairchild said, irritated. “Reason or no, we have to get away from him.”
    â€œBut doesn’t it help to know what we’re going to die for?” Edith cried. “You know damn well we can’t outrun him! Graetikin knows it, too. Don’t you?”
    Graetikin nodded. “But I wouldn’t say we’re going to die. There might be another way.”
    â€œYou know that?” Fairchild asked.
    Graetikin nodded. “First, I’d like to hear what Lady Fairchild has to say about Kamon’s motive.”
    Disjohn took a deep breath and held up his arms. “Okay,” he said to his wife, “Lady Ethnographer, tell us.”
    â€œIt’s all in the library, for whoever cares to look it up. Some of it is even in the old books. We’ve known about it for a century at least—the basic form of the Aighor pil­grimage. They have three brains, that’s well-known—but we’ve ignored the way they use those brains. One is for rational purposes, and it can do everything a computer can do, but it isn’t the strongest. Another is for emotive and autonomic purposes, and that’s where the seat of their re­ligion is. We don’t know exactly what the third brain does. But I have an idea it’s used for preparing the other two brains for a proper death. It has to balance them out, me­diate. If the rational brain has an edge, the pilgrim won’t be prepared for death. I think the research conducted by the station gave the Aighors a dilemma they couldn’t face—the rational treatment of subjects hitherto purely religious to them. It gave their rational minds an edge and caused an imbalance. So the pilgrims couldn’t be delivered to the black holes without wholesale failure in the proper rituals of dying.”
    â€œAnd?” Graetikin asked, fingering his stylus. It seemed there was another foot to drop in the matter, and she wasn’t dropping it.
    â€œThat’s it. I can’t speculate any further. I’m not really an ethnographer. But sometimes I wish to hell you had been, dear husband!” There was no bitterness in her voice, only a loving rebuke.
    Fairchild stared stonily at the emp­ty screens.
    â€œYou have another way?” he asked Graetikin.
    â€œIt’s possible,” Graetikin said. He outlined his alternative. From the ninth word on Fairchild went pale, convinced his Captain had broken under the strain.
    Anna lay in the half-dark and watched the young man dress. For the first time in years she felt guilt that her emotional needs should draw her away from constant alertness. But this was the first time she’d been with the handsome lad for anything more than companionship. He had proven serviceable enough and charming.
    Her aging frame didn’t bother him. He was a professional and perhaps more than that, a sympathetic human being.
    â€œI don’t understand all you’ve told me,” he said. His brown skin shined in the golden lamps of the sanitoire. “But I think what you’re asking me is, do you have a right to put your whole crew in danger. You’re the captain, and I signed on—”
    â€œNot as a crew-member,” she reminded him.
    â€œNo, but I signed on with the understanding there might be hazards involved.”
    â€œThese aren’t the normal hazards.”
    â€œBut if it serves your purpose to link up with the other ship, how can I or anyone else persuade you not to?”
    â€œI have responsibilities to the people who work for me.” She was reminded of what Kondrashef had said to her. Even if they could link up with the Fair­child ship, what guarantee did she have that the Heuritex’s predictions were completely accurate? They didn’t know precisely what Kamon’s ship was capable