117 ::: Takkata-Jim

He now understood what humans meant by a “Nantucket sleighride.”

Takkata-Jim was tired. He had fled for what seemed like hours. Every time he tried to make the boat drift to one side, so he could surrender to one party, the other side fired salvos between him and his goal, forcing him back.

Then, some time ago, he detected a long chain of ships leaving Kithrup in the other direction. It didn’t take much to figure out that Streaker was making her move.

It’s over, then, he thought. I tried to do my duty as I saw it, and save my own life at the same time. Now the die is cast. My plan is lost.

I’m lost. There’s nothing I can do except, maybe, buy Streaker a few minutes.

Some time ago the two fleets had stopped tearing at each other as they chased him. Takkata-Jim realized they were coming to an agreement.

Suddenly his receiver buzzed with a basic contact code in Galactic One. The message was simple ... stop and surrender to the combined Tandu-Soro fleet.

Takkata-Jim, clapped his jaws together. He hadn’t a transmitter, so he couldn’t respond. But if he stopped dead in space they would probably take that as a surrender.

He delayed until the message had been repeated three times. Then he began decreasing speed ... but slowly. Very slowly, drawing out the time.

When the Galactics had drawn close, and their threats began to sound final, Takkata-Jim sighed and turned the longboat’s fire-control computers back on.

The boat bucked as small missiles leaped away. He applied full thrust again.

When both flotillas simultaneously fired volleys of missiles at him, he tried to evade, of course. It would be unsporting to give up.

But he didn’t have the heart for a major effort. Instead, while he waited, he worked on a poem.

The saddest of things

To a dolphin—even me—

Is to die alone. ... *