Prophets

Brody was interrupted by a klaxon over the PA system. After a single whoop, Mosasa’s voice came over the address system.

“Attention. We have our course programmed and we have engines primed for our final jump. We will be taching to the Xi Virginis system in fifteen minutes. Everyone who can, please report to the bridge.”

“This is it,” Brody said, pushing himself from the table. “Sorry you can’t come up with us, Bill.”

“Can you clarify? Are you apologizing or expressing sympathy?”

Mallory slipped out of the common room first, not staying to hear them explain things to Bill. Before the door slid shut behind him, he heard Bill explain in great detail how he had a full holographic feed from the bridge and didn’t need to be present for the critical jump.

Fifteen minutes, Mallory thought. Fifteen minutes and we’ll be in the Xi Virginis system.

The thought was unsettling.

Nickolai was one of the last people to step onto the bridge of the Eclipse. He waited for the last minute so he would avoid the possibility of running into Kugara, who had turned from possible ally to a complete enigma. Besides, it simplified things if his only allegiance was to Mr. Antonio.

The Eclipse had a huge bridge, with a ceiling high enough to provide Nickolai the headroom to stand fully upright. It easily accommodated all of Mosasa’s crew, and could have held the Paralian and his elaborate life support, if there was a way for the huge apparatus to make it up here. The layout of the room was a sphere with the bottom flattened out. Stations ringed a large holo display intended for more redundant positions than were supplied by Mosasa’s crew.

Parvi and Wahid sat at elaborate consoles on either side of the holo display, which showed an image of the space outside. Staring into the display was like looking out the observation port in back, out at the emptiness light-years from everything. However, with his cybernetic eyes, Nickolai could tell that the holo only honored a narrowly-defined visible spectrum. With little effort, he could make out the ghost of Mosasa on the opposite side of the display from him. Kugara sat at a fourth console, opposite Mosasa, her back to Nickolai and most of the other spectators on the bridge.

“Drive is hot,” Parvi said. “All systems check okay to go.”

Wahid answered, “We have a fix on target. Current course window opens in ninety seconds.”

“Mass sensors clear,” Kugara said. “Nothing significant within two AU.”

“Are we okay to fire the tach-drives?” Parvi addressed Mosasa.

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Sixty seconds to window.”

“Course approved,” Parvi said. “Switching the tach-drives to auto.”

The bridge was silent for a few long seconds. Nickolai idly wondered if being present here would somehow make the act of taching somewhere more impressive. It didn’t seem appropriate that leaving a gravity well—barely moving a few hundred kilometers—always felt more dramatic than the sensation of moving twenty light-years. No matter how much time supposedly passed in the interim, on the ship it never felt like anything at all. No sensation, no passing of time, not even a slight unease to let you know that something significant had happened. If you stayed locked in a cabin, you could tach halfway across the galaxy and never know you had moved.

“Twenty seconds to window.” Wahid said. “Fifteen seconds to last-chance abort.”

“All systems nominal,” Parvi said.

“Mass sensors still clear.”

“Ten seconds. Five to commit.” No one answered, and Wahid said. “Five seconds to window, drives are committed. Three . . . two . . . one . . .”

There wasn’t even a sound to mark the jump to Xi Virginis.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE