Linus consulted a chart. "They're a little closer to the life ship than we are. But we're faster."
"Faren, can't we get any more speed?"
Faren Twill shrugged. "We've a destroyer escort," he said. "If we don't mind leaving the destroyers behind."
"Pour it on," said Viggon Sarri sharply. "Then have the destroyers fan out in an intercept pattern just in case...."
"Cold," said Alice in a thin voice.
But it was not really cold; it was the giving up of all hope, the turning off of all will to live, that made her cold.
Norton cradled her in his arms and thought of how this would have been if they had been snug and warm a-planet, instead of lost and alone in space. Her slender body against him did not bring passion, but compassion. He stroked her head and tried to warm her shivering body.
Andrews still lay in a coma.
Jock Norton looked over Alice's shoulder at a wall cabinet. In that cabinet were some capsules that would bring a merciful end before the real suffering began. Andrews probably wouldn't need one. But maybe—maybe—
Slowly, as if doing something against his will, Norton disentangled Alice's arms. Gently, lest she stir and cry out in fear, he broke her hold on him and stroked her arms for a moment. He slipped his own arm out from beneath her neck and held her with his other arm for a second or two.