The Fugitive Worlds

• Front
  
• PART I:  The Return to Land
  
• Chapter 1
  
• Chapter 2
  
• Chapter 3
  
• Chapter 4
  
• Chapter 5
  
• Chapter 6
  
• Chapter 7
  
• PART II:  Strategies of Despair
  
• Chapter 8
  
• Chapter 9
  
• Chapter 10
  
• Chapter 11
  
• Chapter 12
  
• Chapter 13
  
• Chapter 14
  
• Chapter 15
  
• Chapter 16
  
• Chapter 17
  
• Chapter 18
  
• Chapter 19
  
• Chapter 20
  
• End
  
• Back
  

BOB SHAW

THE FUGITIVE WORLDS

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events
portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance
to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1990 by Bob Shaw

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. Published by arrangement with Victor Collancz Ltd.

A Baen Book

Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, N.Y. 10471

ISBN: 0-671-72029-5

Cover art by Don Clavette

First Baen printing, December 1990

Distributed by
SIMON & SCHUSTER
1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, N.Y. 10020

Printed in the United States of America

Scanned and Proofed by eBookMan Version 0.0

Land and Overland Trilogy Volume 3

Contents

Front

PART I:
 
The Return to Land

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

PART II:
 
Strategies of Despair

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

End

Back

The lone astronaut had fallen from the very edge of space,
down through thousands of miles of gradually thickening
atmosphere, a drop which had lasted more than a day. In
the later stages of the descent his body had been acted on by
wind forces which had carried him far to the west of the capital city. Perhaps through inexperience, perhaps from a
desire to be free of the restraints of the fallbag, he had
opened his parachute too soon. It had been deployed a good
ten miles above the planetary surface, and as a result was
being wafted even farther into the sparsely populated regions
which lay beyond the White River.

Toller Maraquine II, who had been patrolling the area for
eight days, examined the creamy fleck of the parachute
through powerful binoculars. It was an inconspicuous object,
hardly as bright as the daytime stars, seemingly fixed in
position beneath the great curving rim of the sister world
which filled the center of the sky. The movement of Toller's
airship made it difficult to keep the parachute centered in his
field of view, but he was able to pick out the tiny figure slung
beneath it and he felt a growing sense of anticipation.

What would the astronaut have to report?

The very fact that the expedition had lasted longer than expected was a good omen in Toller's eyes, but in any case
it would be a relief to pick the man up and transport him to Prad. Patrolling the near-featureless region, with nothing to
do but return the companionable waves of farm workers,
had been monotonous in the extreme, and Toller had a
craving to get back to the city where he could at least find congenial company and a glass of decent wine. There was
also some unfinished and highly pleasurable business with
Hariana, a blonde beauty in the Weavers' Guild. He had
been in ardent pursuit of her for many days, and he sensed
she had been on the verge of yielding when he had been sent
away on the current irksome duty.

The airship was running easily before the easterly breeze,
requiring only an occasional nudge from the jet engines to
keep pace with the parachutist's lateral motion. In spite of
the shade provided by the elliptical gasbag overhead, the
heat on the upper deck was becoming intense, and Toller
knew that the twelve men comprising his crew were as eager
as he to see the mission come to an end. Their saffron
airmen's blouses were dappled with sweat and their postures were as drooped as was compatible with observance of ship
board discipline.