As Jisbella disappeared from sight behind the flank of the Weekender, Foyle set controls and prepared for top acceleration. Will you answer me? This is Dagenham speaking.” “Foyle! hell with you, Dagenham,” Foyle shouted. me the word when you‟re aboard, Jiz, and hold “To “Give on.” can‟t make it, “I on, girl!” “Come can‟t get aboard. The safe‟s blocking the hatch. It‟s wedged in halfway…” “I “Jiz!” no way in, I tell you,” she cried in despair. blocked out.” “There‟s “I‟m He stared around wildly. Dagenham‟s men were boarding the hull of the Weekender with the menacing purpose of professional raiders. Dagenham‟s ship was lifting over the brief horizon of the asteroid on a dead course for him. His head began to spin. you‟re finished. You and the girl. But I‟ll offer a deal…” “Foyle, help me. Do something, Gully. I‟m lost!” “Gully, he said in a strangled voice. He closed his eyes and tripped the controls. The tail jets “Vorga,” roared. The Weekender shook and shuddered forward. It broke free of Dagenham‟s boarders, of Jisbella, of warnings and pleas. It pressed Foyle back into the pilot‟s chair with the blackout of loG acceleration, an acceleration that was less pressing, less painful, less treacherous than the passion that drove him. And as he passed from sight there rose up on his face the blood-red stigmata of his possession. PART 2 With a heart of furious fancies Whereof I am commander, With a burning spear and a horse of air, To the wilderness I wander. With a knight of ghosts and shadows I summoned am to tourney, Ten leagues beyond the wide world‟s end— Me thinks it is no journey.
As Jisbella disappeared from sight behind the flank of the Weekender, Foyle set controls and prepared for top acceleration. “Foyle! Will you answer me? This is Dagenham speaking.” “To hell with you, Dagenham,” Foyle shouted. “Give me the word when you‟re aboard, Jiz, and hold on.” “I can‟t make it, “Come on, girl!” “I can‟t get aboard. The safe‟s blocking the hatch. It‟s wedged in halfway…” “Jiz!” “There‟s no way in, I tell you,” she cried in despair. “I‟m blocked out.” He stared around wildly. Dagenham‟s men were boarding the hull of the Weekender with the menacing purpose of professional raiders. Dagenham‟s ship was lifting over the brief horizon of the asteroid on a dead course for him. His head began to spin. “Foyle, you‟re finished. You and the girl. But I‟ll offer a deal…” “Gully, help me. Do something, Gully. I‟m lost!” “Vorga,” he said in a strangled voice. He closed his eyes and tripped the controls. The tail jets roared. The Weekender shook and shuddered forward. It broke free of Dagenham‟s boarders, of Jisbella, of warnings and pleas. It pressed Foyle back into the pilot‟s chair with the blackout of loG acceleration, an acceleration that was less pressing, less painful, less treacherous than the passion that drove him. And as he passed from sight there rose up on his face the blood-red stigmata of his possession. PART 2 With a heart of furious fancies Whereof I am commander, With a burning spear and a horse of air, To the wilderness I wander. With a knight of ghosts and shadows I summoned am to tourney, Ten leagues beyond the wide world‟s end— Me thinks it is no journey.