Free The Mote in God's Eye by Larry Niven, Jerry Pournelle Page A

change the watch, grab forgotten articles, shift positions; then the warning horns sounded, the jolt meters swung over, and too much weight returned.
    At first MacArthur ’s bow had pointed sixty degrees askew of Cal. They had to line up with the intruder’s course. With that accomplished, MacArthur turned again. Her bow pointed at the brightest star in the heavens.
    Cal began to grow. He also changed color, but minutely. No one would notice that blue shift with the naked eye. What the men did see in the screens was that the brightest star had become a disc and was growing hourly.
    It didn’t grow brighter because the screens kept it constant; but the tiny sun disc grew ominously larger, and it lay directly ahead. Behind them was another disc of the same color, the white of an F8 star. It, too, grew hourly larger. MacArthur was sandwiched between two colliding suns.
    On the second day Staley brought a new midshipman up to the bridge, both moving in traveling acceleration chairs. Except for a brief interview on Brigit, Rod hadn’t met him: Gavin Potter, a sixteen-year-old boy from New Scotland. Potter was tall for his age; he seemed to hunch in upon himself, as if afraid to be noticed.
    Blaine thought Potter was merely being shown about the ship; a good idea, since if the intruder turned out hostile, the boy might have to move about MacArthur with total familiarity—possibly in darkness and variable gravity.
    Staley obviously had more in mind. Blaine realized they were trying to get his attention. “Yes, Mr. Staley?”
    “This is Midshipman Gavin Potter, sir,” Staley said. “He’s told me something I think you ought to hear.”
    “All right, go ahead.” Any diversion from high gravity was welcome.
    “There was a church in our street, sir. In a farm town on New Scotland.” Potter’s voice was soft and low, and he spoke carefully so that he blotted out all but a ghostly remnant of the brogue that made Sinclair’s speech so distinctive.
    “A church,” Blaine said encouragingly. “Not an orthodox church, I take it—”
    “No, sir. A Church of Him. There aren’t many members. A friend and I snuck inside once, for a joke.”
    “Did you get caught?”
    “I know I’m telling this badly, sir. The thing is— There was a big blowup of an old holo of Murcheson’s Eye against the Coal Sack. The Face of God, just like on postcards. Only, only it was different in this picture. The Eye was very much brighter than now, and it was blue green, not red. With a red dot at one edge.”
    “It could have been a portrait,” Blaine suggested. He took out his pocket computer and scrawled “Church of Him” across its face, then punched for information. The box Linked with the ship’s library, and information began to roll across its face. “It says the Church of Him believes that the Coal Sack, with that one red eye showing, really is the Face of God. Couldn’t they have retouched it to make the eye more impressive?” Rod continued to sound interested; time enough to say something about wasting his time when the middies were through. If they were wasting time...
    “But—” said Potter.
    “Sir—” said Staley, leaning too far forward in his chair.
    “One at a time. Mr. Staley?”
    “I didn’t just ask Potter, sir. I checked with Commander Sinclair. He says his grandfather told him the Mote was once brighter than Murcheson’s Eye, and bright green. And the way Gavin’s describing that holo—well, sir, stars don’t radiate all one color. So—”
    “All the more reason to think the holo was retouched. But it is funny, with that intruder coming straight out of the Mote...”
    “Light,” Potter said firmly.
    “Light sail!” Rod shouted in sudden realization. “Good thinking.” The whole bridge crew turned to look at the Captain. “Renner! Did you say the intruder is moving faster than it ought to be?”
    “Yes, sir,” Renner answered from his station across the bridge. “If it was launched from a