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routes, and the ships' silver finish seemed dull compared to the brightness of her eyes. Desire showed plainly in her face. In the sunlight, the rainbow changing of the ship before it jumped was like watching a real rainbow. But no real rainbow left that inward shiver after, that oscillation in the nerves. She leaned over the observation railing, watching the space where the ship had been, head on one side, as if she were listening to the wind rushing in to fill the place.
    Jimson knew what she was going to say before she turned to him and said it.
    "I have to go soon."
    "I know."
    At Rin's, that night, she tried to explain it to him, her voice low to slide beneath the laughter and noise and the drum-drumming of the skins.
    "The Hype—it's like the beginning of everything out there. Entropy is slower. So in the congruencies where our galaxies lie, is space, and shining dust. The dust makes patterns. They call them proto-stars. When you're there—it's all there is. Hyperspace is the universe. You come out of it, surely, to Nexus or Terra or New Terrain, and sunlight and grass. But you go back to the Hype and you're alone. On an aircruiser sometimes you can look across the plane of the sky and see another cruiser, parallel to yours, or going down into the clouds, or maybe climbing. You never see that in the Hype—I don't know why. You're alone. The silence gets so heavy outside your ship, it's like you're breathing dust, not air. The ship becomes your skin. Can you understand?" She was tense, leaning against him, trying to make him see it.
    "No."
    "No," she echoed sadly. "All you can do is draw."
     
     

 
     
    Chapter 6
     
     
    She went looking for a ship.
    In the mornings she would pull on a bright pair of coveralls, and mask her eyes with glitterstick. "Where do you go?" Jimson asked her, the first night. He had stayed up, waiting for her to come home. It was very late. He was overdue for a pill. He ached.
    "Crow's Place. Liathera's. The Dragon."
    "Why there—why not Rin's?"
    "The Starcaptains go there."
    Her absence depressed him. He felt burnt out and lonely. Rin's seemed lifeless when she was not there to sit with, to look at. He got a 'gram from Sammy, two weeks after the ship left for Enchanter, burbling congratulations and a hefty credit total. It made him smile, but the pleasure was dimmed. There was no one in the house to share the news with. And soon she would be gone altogether. He would move. He could not live in the house where the ivy coming in the window made him think of her.
    He went to Rin's. Ysao was there. He beckoned. Jimson went to sit beside him. During the afternoons in which Ysao sat for the portrait, they had found each other easy company.
    He showed Ysao the 'gram. "Congratulations," said the giant. "I think you ought to buy me a drink."
    "I think you're right," Jimson said. He went to the bar. "Whatever Ysao's drinking," he said to Rin. "Two of 'em." He brought them back to the table and tossed his down. It made him feel better.
    "I don't think you should get drunk," remarked Ysao.
    "Why the hell not?"
    "It's still morning."
    "I know. But there's nobody there ." He felt desolate, lost.
    "Trust the luck," said Ysao. "She always gives back what she takes away."
    The luck. Once she'd been called Dame Fortune. Now she was the luck , less personal but equally powerful. All Hypers believed in the luck. The luck was misfortune, the luck was serendipitous coincidence. The luck was Goddess of the Hype.
    "Come on," said Ysao. He stood up. He was very formidable, standing. "Let's go for a walk."
    There were three ways to get around inside Port City. Ground level was the movalongs. Second level was the Bridge—a raised platform on which you could stroll, watching at leisure the swifter bob of heads below you. Up above the Bridge were the bubbles, strung on their cables like jewels on a chain, sliding swiftly and unceasingly around the city. They were beautiful to look at, especially at night, when they