“Almost on the other side of the protosun. We can get there faster in hyperspace.”

The planet was still invisibly small where Elephant brought us out. The protosun looked about the same.

A protosun is the fetus of a star: a thin mass of gas and dust, brought together by slow eddies in interstellar magnetic fields or by the presence of a Trojan point in some loose cluster of stars, which is collapsing and contracting due to gravity. I’d found material on protosuns in the ship’s library, but it was all astronomical data; nobody had ever been near one for a close look. In theory the Fast Protosun must be fairly well along in its evolution, since it was glowing at the center.

“There it is,” said Elephant “Two days away at one gee.”

“Good. We can do our instrument checks on the way. Strap down.”

With the fusion motor pushing us smoothly along, Elephant went back to the scope, and I started checking the other instruments. One thing stood out like a beacon.

“Elephant. Have you noticed in me a tendency to use profanity for emphasis?”

“Not really. Why?”

“It’s goddamn radioactive out there.”

“Could you be a little more specific, sir?”

“Our suit shields would break down in three days. The extension bubble would go in twenty hours.”

“Okay, add it to your list. Any idea what’s causing it?”

“Not one.” I made a note on my list, then went back to work. We were in no danger; the GP hull would protect us from anything but impact with something big.

“No asteroid belts,” said Elephant. “Meteor density zero, as far as I can tell. No other planets.”

“The interstellar gas may clean away anything small at these speeds.”

“One thing’s for sure, Bey. I’ve got my money’s worth. This is a damn funny system.”

“Yah. Well, we missed lunch. Shall we get dinner?”

“Philistine.”

Elephant ate fast. He was back at the telescope before I was ready for coffee. Watching him move, I was again reminded of a juggernaut, but he’d never shown as much determination when I knew him on Earth. If a hungry kzinti had been standing between him and the telescope, he’d have left footprints in fur.

But the only thing that could get in his way out here was me.

“Can’t get a close look at the planet,” said Elephant, “but it looks polished.”

“Like a billiard ball?”

“Just that. I don’t see any sign of an atmosphere.”

“How about blast craters?”

“Nothing.”

“They should be there.”

“This system’s pretty clean of meteors.”

“But the space around us shouldn’t be. And at these speeds—”

“Uh huh. That better go on your list.”

I wrote it down.

We slept on the disaster couches. In front of me were the yellow lights of the control panel; the stars glowed red through one side window, blue through the other. I stayed awake for a long time, staring through the forward window into the red darkness of the protosun. The window was opaque, but I saw the dark red blur clearly in my imagination.