"I told you," said Karlovic, looking out the port, "that the darkbirds
were created to guard the Star. And that, in a way, they love it. Who
can say how much?"
They watched.
Out in space the little cloud of darkbirds moved toward the Star. Then,
hesitantly, they stopped.
"They won't," said Karlovic, in a whisper. "Not even for Jubb."
Again Jubb spoke to the unseen messenger, as quietly as though it was
a casual order. And presently a troubled movement rippled the swirling
darkbirds.
Suddenly they moved, again herding the Star. Slowly at first, then
more and more swiftly until it was only a streak of brilliant light,
the darkbirds drove the Star straight toward the sun. And it was less
a driving than an urging, a tempting, a promise of glory, a sweet
betraying call from the mouth of the eternal Judas. The darkbirds led
it, and it followed them.
In a moment, in that greater blaze, the Star was lost to view.
Karlovic's breath came out of him in a long sigh. "The only way it
could be destroyed. Even its appetite for thermal energy could not
swallow a sun."
"The darkbirds are coming back," Durham said. Then, wonderingly, "But
they're not--"
The darkbirds were coming back from the green sun, but not toward
Jubb's ship. And not toward any planet. They were flying like blurring
shadows toward outer space, and if they heard Jubb's calling voice they
paid no heed at all.
"They're gone," Karlovic said, unbelievingly.
"Yes," said Jubb, very slowly. "They obeyed that order, but it was the
last." He looked at the humans facing him, the men of Earth and the men
of Nanta Dik, and he said, "Do you see now that there is no difference
between us, that we of Senya Dik can teach betrayal just like men?"
Durham looked out into the shining void, but there was no sign now
of the fleet and flying shadows. Intelligences, minds, beyond the
understanding of heavy creatures like himself and Jubb. He wondered how
far they would go, how long they would live, what things they would see.
_Darkbirds, darkbirds, will you come back some day when we of flesh are
ghosts and shadows, to frolic on our lonely worlds?_