"Mister Cragin! Can you estimate her position? Grimes, contact the nearest base in this sector. Get a relay from Earth on the flight plan of Special Flight Beyond Barrier Three. Mister Kramer, I want a running plot of the track every three minutes. Cragin!"
The Captain punched the red FSA drive-room button and the Patrol ship slid from her drift into a white-hot mushroom of speed. The tower deck vibrated beneath Cragin's feet.
"She's further out than I've ever been, sir. I can give you an approximate trajectory, but where she is it's suicide—"
"For how far out beyond the Barrier do you have exact knowledge of critical warp speeds, Cragin?"
"A light-year maybe, sir. No more. Beyond that nothing makes sense; beyond that the variables will shoot any comptometer on this type ship to hell. Beyond the Barrier it's like tight-rope walking between the dimensions and after you get just so far—"
"I know all that. How far out is she?"
"Fifty light-years anyway. Maybe two hundred. I can't tell. I think she's holding for dear life to a critical. If she loses it, we lose her for good."
"You think she'll make it to this side?"
"If she's lost, no, sir. She'll just keep on out there until—"
"Until?"