His success lasted for one thrilling moment. In a vacuum of its own, untouched by outside force, that microcosm hung pendant. Devil Star saw it fuzzily, by the reflecting thread of electrons that he sent against it. And was to see it no more. For in that moment of triumph came the icy cold certainty that he was being watched.
That captured micro-universe was gone from his delicate grasp as if it had never been. With a violence beyond imagining, he expanded to half again his diameter. From a dozen portions of his body, his visions leaped out. And he saw Dark Fire.
He was gripped by the splendor of her, as she moved slowly down an aisle of stars toward him ... her visions already touching his, holding them with hard bright purpose. Against the dark background of space, her central green light was lustrous.
"Devil Star, there will be no choice!"
The sudden clangor of that voice from the past had no meaning to Devil Star, though he frantically tried to examine it. But meanings, reasons, coherent thinking were lost to him. As Dark Fire drifted nearer, he was enclosed in a vast peace. He knew at once that his searching, even his finding, was a patchwork substitute for this great longing that had been built into the very fabric of him.
Now came the voice of Dark Fire, humming, insidious.
"Devil Star, our moment has come—as we knew it would. Devil Star, follow me!"
And now he hung in the vibrant band of life, drawn there half by her will, half by his. And he trembled with the half-memory of death, and yet bathed by the hypnotic vibrations flooding from the central light of her, so that he knew peace and understood the answers to all questions.
She was dwindling. He knew what he must do.