screen swooped sickeningly. Alarms blared all over the ship and something on the bridge started to smoke.
“We’re still functional!” Kendi shouted over the noise. “I think I can-there!” The darkening sky righted itself, though the bridge was still filled with noise. A few stars scattered themselves across the vid-screen image like salt crystals.
“Can we still clear the atmosphere?” Ara shouted.
“I think so!” Kendi yelled.
“Peggy-Sue!” Gretchen screamed. “Mute alarms!”
The alarms went silent, leaving a ringing in Ara’s ears. “Why are we still alive?” she demanded.
In answer, Ben hit a key. The speakers came to life, though recent damage made the transmission hiss with static.
“Attention Post Script,” said a voice. “This is Rell Hafren of the warship Star’s Doom. We know you have the boy Sejal Dasa. He is the property of the Empire of Human Unity. Hand him over at once and you will not be harmed. Repeat: hand over the boy and you will not be harmed.”
“We aren’t transmitting,” Ben said. “They can’t hear us.”
“They figured out who Sejal is,” Ara breathed. “Dammit! I was hoping we could get away before-”
“Mother, the warships are powering up imp guns,” Gretchen reported. “If they hit us with an electromagnetic pulse, we’ll lose main power and they’ll be able to grab us with a gravity beam at their leisure.”
“Sixteen seconds to slipspace,” Kendi said, “and that’s if I push.”
“Push, dammit!” Ara said.
“Ten seconds to power disruption,” Gretchen said.
Ara swore. “Harenn, is there anything you can do to shield us?”
“Not in ten seconds.”
“Five…four…”
“Nine seconds to slipspace,” Kendi reported.
“Attention, Post Script-”
“… two…one…zero.”
Ara braced herself — and nothing happened.
“Report!” she said.
“They should have zapped us,” Gretchen replied, obviously confused.
The answer popped into Ara’s head like a cork from a champagne bottle. “Trish and Pitr,” she said gleefully. “They’re whispering to the weapons officers from the Dream and making them hesitate.”
“We have slip!” Kendi smacked his console. A screech of stressed ceramic ripped through Ara’s head and the vid-screen stars dissolved into a rainbow wash of nauseating color.
“Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha!” Harenn said. “We are venting atmosphere.”
“Can you deal with it?” Ara asked.
“Not in slipspace.”
“Attention! Attention!” the computer interjected. “Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at ninety-five percent.”
“Suits!” Ara yelled, already moving for the bridge’s storage locker. “Move it, people! Kendi, how long before it’s safe to come out of slipspace?”
“Gimme three more minutes,” Kendi said, not leaving his console.
Ara handed out silvery suits and helmets, then donned her own. A breeze drifted through the bridge. “Ben, once you’re suited, take over for Kendi. Gretchen, head below and help Jack get Sejal and Fen set up with the spare suits.”
“Who the hell is Fen?” Gretchen asked.
“Attention! Attention! Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at ninety percent.”
“I’ll explain later,” Ara said. “Harenn, seal off the lower deck. We can at least save some atmosphere on the upper one.”
“I have already attempted this,” Harenn’s calm voice replied. “The doors are not responding. In addition, I have lost forty percent of main power, and emergency reserves are off line. I must shut down the gravity generators to compensate.”
“Attention! Attention! Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at eighty-one percent.”
Ara sealed her helmet, muffling the sounds from the bridge. Her own breathing echoed loudly in her ears. Suddenly the deck left her feet and she was falling. Gretchen yelped and snagged the storage locker door. Ara resisted the impulse to windmill her arms and instead grabbed the back of Ben’s chair. The velcro patch sewn there for exactly this purpose snagged her palm. Colors washed nauseatingly over the vid-screen, making Ara’s gorge rise. The view of slipspace made most humans ill, and Ara was no exception, especially in zero-gee. Gretchen pushed off and drifted over to her console, where she punched a few keys. The vid-screen went blank.
“Thank you,” Ara said. Gretchen shoved herself toward the door without replying. She still had to check on Sejal and Fen.
“Attention! Attention! Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at sixty-four percent.”
“Kendi,” Ara said, “suit.”
“Almost done.” He was panting. “We’ll be in normal space in less than two minutes.”
“You’ll be unconscious in less than one,” Ara said. “Move!”
Kendi looked like he was going to protest, then apparently changed his mind. He pushed out of his chair and swam to the storage locker. Ben waited until he had landed, then took Kendi’s place while Ara assisted her gasping ex-student into a suit. He was already in a half faint. His face was flushed from blood summoned to the surface of his skin by the low pressure. Quickly Ara sealed his helmet and heard the welcome hiss of oxygen from the tanks. Kendi’s breathing steadied and his eyes opened.
“I’m good,” he said over the suit’s communicator. “Thanks.”
“Attention! Attention! Hull breach in sections six and seven alpha. Atmosphere at fifty-one percent.”
“Take your console, Kendi,” Ara said. “Have Harenn check you for bruises and capillary damage later-you’re going to be sore.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“Peggy-Sue, open intercom to Gretchen Beyer,” Ara continued. “Gretchen, is everyone suited up down there?”
“Sejal got his on,” Gretchen replied. “That Fen guy fainted, but Jack and I got him into his suit. Did you know Fen is Silent?”
“Yes. What about Trish and Pitr?”
“I have no idea. They aren’t down here.”
Kendi swam over to the pilot’s chair. “Take us out of slipspace, Ben. We should be safe by now.”
The ship shuddered and boomed.
“Attention! Attention!” Peggy-Sue said. “Hull breach in sections six, seven, and nine alpha. Atmosphere at thirty-eight percent.”
“We’re leaking like a sieve,” Ara groused. “Harenn, can you repair all that, or are we going to be wearing these suits all the way back to Bellerophon?”
“I am still assessing the damage,” Harenn replied. “I will report the moment I know more.”
Ara shoved herself into her customary chair and belted herself in place. The suit’s thin material was slightly rough, catching the chair’s fabric and preventing her from sliding off while she did so. Then she took several deep breaths to quell her roiling stomach. Zero gee had never been Ara’s personal favorite.
“Where are we, boys?” she asked to distract herself.
“No idea,” Kendi said. “I was concentrating too hard on getting us into slipspace to program any coordinates. There’s a K-class star within easy reach, though, if Harenn wants a power source.”
“Head for it.” Then Ara remembered she hadn’t checked on Trish and Pitr. “Peggy-Sue, open intercom to Sister Trish and Brother Pitr Haddis. Are you two suited up?”
“Suited up and heading down to help Harenn,” Trish said.
“Pitr?” Ara said. No answer. “Pitr, please respond.”
Nothing. A chill slid up Ara’s spine.
“Attention! Attention! Hull breach in sections six, seven, and nine alpha. Atmosphere at thirty-one
