shape of the sun itself. During a solar disturbance, this center carries vibrations from that disturbance directly through the mass of the star to cancel those vibrations racing the tidal shift on the sun's surface.
"Occasionally something goes wrong with the tiny bodies balancing the perceptual pressures on the human brain.
"Often the governmental and diplomatic matrix cannot handle the pressures of the worlds they govern.
"And when something goes wrong with the balancing mechanism inside a sun, the dispersal of incredible stellar power dephases into the titanic forces that make a sun go nova— "
"Katin?"
He switched off his recorder and looked at the Mouse.
"What you doing?"
"Making notes on my novel."
"Your what?"
"Archaic art form superseded by the psychorama. Alas, it was capable of vanished subtleties, both spiritual and artistic, that the more immediate form has not yet equaled. I'm an anachronism, Mouse." Katin grinned. "Thanks for my job."
The Mouse shrugged. "What are you talking about?"
"Psychology." Katin put the recorder back in his pocket. "Politics, and Physics. The three P's."
"Psychology?" the Mouse asked. "Politics?"
"Can you read and write?" Katin asked.
"Turkish, Greek, and Arabic. But not too good in English. The letters don't have nothing to do with the sounds you make."
Katin nodded. He was a little drunk too. "Profound. That's why English was such a fine language for novels. But I oversimplify."
"What about psychology and politics? I know the physics."
"Particularly," Katin said to the flowing, glowing strip of wet rock that wound two hundred meters below, "the psychology and politics of our captain. They intrigue me."
"What about them?"
"His psychology is, at this point, merely curious because it is unknown. I shall have a chance to observe that as we progress. But the politics are gravid with possibilities."
"Yeah? What's that mean?"
Katin locked his fingers and balanced his chin on a knuckle. "I attended an institution of higher learning in the ruins of a once great country. A bit across the quad was a building called the Von Ray Psycho-science Laboratory. It was a rather recent addition, from, I would guess, a hundred and forty years ago."
"Captain Von Ray?"
"Grandpa, I suspect. It was donated to the school in honor of the thirtieth anniversary of the grant of sovereignty to the Pleiades Federation by the Draco Courts."
"Von Ray is from out in the Pleiades? He don't talk like he is. Sebastian and Tyy, I could guess from them. Are you sure?"
"His family holdings are there, certainly. He's probably spent time all over the universe, traveling in the style we would like to be accustomed to. How much would you bet he owns his own cargo ship?"
"He's not working for some company combine?"
"Not unless his family owns it. The Von Rays are probably the most powerful family in the Pleiades Federation. I don't know if Captain there is a kissing cousin lucky enough to have the same name, or whether he's the direct heir and scion. But I do know that name is connected up with the control and organization of the whole Pleiades Federation; they're the sort of family with a summer home in the Outer Colonies and a town house or two on Earth."
"Then he's a big man." The Mouse spoke hoarsely.
"He is."
"What about this Prince and Ruby Red he was talking about?"
"Are you dense, or are you merely a product of thirty-first-century over-specialization?" Katin asked. "Sometimes I dream about a return of the great renaissance figures of the twentieth century: Bertrand Russell, Susanne Langer, Pejt Davlin." He looked at the Mouse. "Who makes every drive system you can think of, interplanetary or interstellar?"
"Red-shift Limited— " The Mouse stopped. "That Red?"
"Were he not a Von Ray, I would assume he spoke of some other family. Since he is, it is very probable that he speaks of just those Reds."
"Damn," the Mouse said. Red-shift was a label that appeared so frequently you didn't even
"Occasionally something goes wrong with the tiny bodies balancing the perceptual pressures on the human brain.
"Often the governmental and diplomatic matrix cannot handle the pressures of the worlds they govern.
"And when something goes wrong with the balancing mechanism inside a sun, the dispersal of incredible stellar power dephases into the titanic forces that make a sun go nova— "
"Katin?"
He switched off his recorder and looked at the Mouse.
"What you doing?"
"Making notes on my novel."
"Your what?"
"Archaic art form superseded by the psychorama. Alas, it was capable of vanished subtleties, both spiritual and artistic, that the more immediate form has not yet equaled. I'm an anachronism, Mouse." Katin grinned. "Thanks for my job."
The Mouse shrugged. "What are you talking about?"
"Psychology." Katin put the recorder back in his pocket. "Politics, and Physics. The three P's."
"Psychology?" the Mouse asked. "Politics?"
"Can you read and write?" Katin asked.
"Turkish, Greek, and Arabic. But not too good in English. The letters don't have nothing to do with the sounds you make."
Katin nodded. He was a little drunk too. "Profound. That's why English was such a fine language for novels. But I oversimplify."
"What about psychology and politics? I know the physics."
"Particularly," Katin said to the flowing, glowing strip of wet rock that wound two hundred meters below, "the psychology and politics of our captain. They intrigue me."
"What about them?"
"His psychology is, at this point, merely curious because it is unknown. I shall have a chance to observe that as we progress. But the politics are gravid with possibilities."
"Yeah? What's that mean?"
Katin locked his fingers and balanced his chin on a knuckle. "I attended an institution of higher learning in the ruins of a once great country. A bit across the quad was a building called the Von Ray Psycho-science Laboratory. It was a rather recent addition, from, I would guess, a hundred and forty years ago."
"Captain Von Ray?"
"Grandpa, I suspect. It was donated to the school in honor of the thirtieth anniversary of the grant of sovereignty to the Pleiades Federation by the Draco Courts."
"Von Ray is from out in the Pleiades? He don't talk like he is. Sebastian and Tyy, I could guess from them. Are you sure?"
"His family holdings are there, certainly. He's probably spent time all over the universe, traveling in the style we would like to be accustomed to. How much would you bet he owns his own cargo ship?"
"He's not working for some company combine?"
"Not unless his family owns it. The Von Rays are probably the most powerful family in the Pleiades Federation. I don't know if Captain there is a kissing cousin lucky enough to have the same name, or whether he's the direct heir and scion. But I do know that name is connected up with the control and organization of the whole Pleiades Federation; they're the sort of family with a summer home in the Outer Colonies and a town house or two on Earth."
"Then he's a big man." The Mouse spoke hoarsely.
"He is."
"What about this Prince and Ruby Red he was talking about?"
"Are you dense, or are you merely a product of thirty-first-century over-specialization?" Katin asked. "Sometimes I dream about a return of the great renaissance figures of the twentieth century: Bertrand Russell, Susanne Langer, Pejt Davlin." He looked at the Mouse. "Who makes every drive system you can think of, interplanetary or interstellar?"
"Red-shift Limited— " The Mouse stopped. "That Red?"
"Were he not a Von Ray, I would assume he spoke of some other family. Since he is, it is very probable that he speaks of just those Reds."
"Damn," the Mouse said. Red-shift was a label that appeared so frequently you didn't even
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