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The cavity was just as he had imagined it—cramped, but pliable enough so that he could move around and push out with his legs. The techs had embedded a small flatscreen teleceiver in the cavity wall, allowing limited communications with the Aguinaldo. At the bottom of the cavity he found a computer wedged against one of the curved organic walls.

As part of the “payload” of the sail mosaic, a dozen sail-creature nymphs had been anesthetized into dormancy and packaged outside, sealed to keep them from being exposed to the vacuum. Wall-kelp made up the remainder of the cargo.

Wires ran into the back of the battery-powered computer. Since Ramis’s initial trip, a team of electrical engineers had worked out a method of controlling the sail-creatures’ movements through tiny electric shocks. The boy’s method of using a knife to prick the inside of the cavity was much too imprecise for any additional trips.

The computer controlled a neural network that coordinated the array’s movements. Sandovaal felt satisfied that most of the uncertainty was gone from using the sail-creatures, but plenty of things could still go wrong. He settled back into the cavity, pushing against the pliant walls so that he was firmly embedded and somewhat comfortable. He suspected he would grow to hate his space suit over the next week or so.

He watched the techs seal the cavity outside, closing off the dim wedge of starlight. Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic. The most frustrating part was that he would have to spend days with no one but Dobo for company.

It would only take a few hours for the wall-kelp inside the sealed cavity to generate enough oxygen so he could remove his helmet. He would have nothing but his own wall-kelp to eat during the entire journey, and that suited him just fine. Sandovaal thought briefly about suggesting that the techs double-check the outside sealant, but dismissed the idea. They had thorough checklists, drawn up by Sandovaal himself.

All communication lines checked out, and the electrodes were responding to the periodic queries. The sail-cluster appeared ready to launch.

He reached up and flicked on the flatscreen. They would want him to make some sort of speech, of course. After working with holotanks on the Aguinaldo, the primitive two-dimensional image seemed weirdly different.

President Magsaysay appeared on the screen. “Luis, Dobo is having some last words with his wife. Then you will be ready to go. We will switch to open broadcast.”

Sandovaal watched a tiny window lined in red at the top of his flatscreen. Dobo had blacked out his private channel, keeping Sandovaal and everyone else from eavesdropping.

“Tell him to wrap it up. I do not want this mission to fail because he cannot say good-bye in less time than it takes to make the entire journey!”

Magsaysay grinned. “Would you like me to do anything else before you go? Have the bishop say a prayer, perhaps? With your batteries, you will not be able to keep communicating with us for long.”

“I realize that—I just have to convince Dobo that we must only use them in an emergency.”

Magsaysay ignored Sandovaal’s complaining. “We and Orbitech 1 will be beaming an open channel to you. We are broadcasting this over ConComm, making this an international voyage, Luis. The people on Clavius Base are attempting to send someone to L-5 using a new technique of their own, and they intend to arrive about the same day you do. It is truly an exciting time.” Magsaysay paused as he looked offscreen. He turned back to the camera and spoke again. “The techs are showing that you are free to launch.”

Sandovaal shot a glance at the computer. The network readout showed complete communication between all the sail-creatures. Sandovaal muttered to himself about Dobo once again when the direct window blinked green. “It is about time, Dobo.”

“What was that?”

Sandovaal cleared his throat. He switched the flatscreen from Magsaysay to the outside view, but kept the audio channel to Magsaysay open. A small solid-state transmitter was affixed outside Sandovaal’s cavity, showing a wide-angled view of space. The Earth hung in one corner, half lit by the Sun. They were near the optimum time for launch, when the sail-creatures could take best advantage of the solar photon flux.

Sandovaal felt a rush of adrenaline. For a moment he imagined the array of sail-creatures as a pack of snails straining at the starting gates.…

In front of him lay the grandest adventure of his life, made possible only through his years of research in developing the sail-creatures. Nothing else seemed to matter—the Earth beckoned him onward, enticing him to dance in a dangerous ballet of gravity.