His father had based this whole war upon one brief moment of contact with a Luminal drone. What if they could contact this woman from the distress signal? He was convinced that message was a plea for help. And now the sight of that figure signalling to him from the wreckage confirmed it. He had no doubt, this was too important. And he wasn’t going to let his father’s caution stand in his way.
He jumped, opening his eyes as the outer airlock door slid open with a jolt. He stepped tentatively out on to a loading platform about four metres square.
He took a few nervous steps towards the edge, gazing about in awe.
The moon’s surface below was mostly hidden from view by swirling vapours, but he could make out dull orange patches lighting up the clouds where the rocks glowed red.
Up above him, the sky was hazy with dust and debris, interspersed with larger asteroids hanging impossibly in the sky. Some of the nearer chunks that had been thrown up in the Luminal crash were now falling back down to the moon’s surface in a surreal, slow motion rainfall, caught in the moon’s weak gravity.
And much higher above, the clouds still lit up with dim flashes of greens and yellows as the battle between the Lumina and the ships of the Holy Empire raged all across the heavens.
But ahead of him, rising up like some dark tower, was the shape of the wrecked Luminal ship. It had the appearance of some gargantuan spear that had been plunged deep into the surface of the broken moon, thrusting out from the rock at a disconcerting angle.
As Ryann looked on, the clouds slowly parted again, and he searched the torn levels of the ship for another glimpse of that ethereal figure.
And there, high up in the wreckage, he spied a light flash out again and his heart raced. The ship seemed so tantalisingly close — less than a kilometre away. He almost cried out in frustration.
He stepped up to the very edge of the platform, peering gingerly into the depths. There was nothing but the boiling clouds that blanketed the moon’s torrid surface hundreds of metres below. He felt a sudden wave of vertigo wash over him, and he staggered back from the precipice, trying to get his ragged gasps under control. He instinctively reached for something with which to steady himself, but the loading platform was just an empty square, and he stood there panting in fear.
He tried to focus his attention upon his wrist-pack’s readouts, taking measurements of the moon’s weak gravity versus that of the Defiance. He eyed the barely-perceptible fall of rocks in the air, trying to gauge the forces that played out around him.
His eye caught the flash of light from the Luminal wreck once again, and as the cloud thinned he clearly saw the glowing figure observing him across the gulf.
Ryann took a step backwards, blocking out the dissenting voices that screamed inside his head.
And then, he set off at a run, every fibre of his concentration focussed upon that distant figure. In a few strides he was at the edge of the loading platform, and as ran he let out a cry of release, expunging all his pent up rage and fear. With a final effort, he leapt from the platform and out into the void.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A LEAP OF FAITH
Ryann heard himself cry out instinctively as he leapt from the edge of the platform. Every nerve in his brain told him that he would instantly plunge down into the abyss, a deathly fall to that boiling surface of the broken moon far below. He fought his instincts, screaming at himself to keep his eyes open in an effort to conquer his fear.
He felt the weight of the Defiance’s gravity field pulling him down as he flew out into the void.
But then, in an instant, the heaviness of his body melted away, and the much weaker gravity of the moon took hold. Instead of falling straight downwards, the inertia of his leap was sending him out, straight towards the Luminal wreck.
But he was still falling nevertheless. He predicted that his impossible leap would get him roughly half way across the gulf before he hit the moon’s surface.
He flew on, passing between great chunks of falling rock, tumbling slowly as he went. He caught a brief glimpse of the sheer walls of the Defiance receding into the distance, and tried to slow his body’s spin. As the Luminal wreck came into view once more, he flipped open the emergency panel located on his wrist-pack and hit the EVA button.
Instantly, he felt the weight of his body increase as micro-thrusters all about his flight suit fired out in unison, automatically stabilising his tumble. Slowly, his view of the Luminal wreck steadied, until his body was pointing straight for it.
And then the thrusters cut off and he was left in a silence punctuated only by his own ragged breathing.
Ryann gazed about in panic at his surreal situation. He was hurtling out across the void, his velocity steadily increasing as his trajectory dipped inexorably towards the moon’s surface. He was still two hundred or so metres above the clouds and roughly double that from the Luminal ship, but the shallow arc of his fall meant there was no way that he would reach the safety of the wreck at this rate.
Rocks of all sizes whipped past him on either side, above and below as he sped on getting faster and faster.
He fought every instinct to fire the thrusters on his suit once again. He knew that he needed more speed if he were to reach the derelict; and that meant falling further. His emergency EVA system wasn’t designed to overcome the gravity of this moon, weak as it was. It was created to get the wearer back through the weightlessness of space should he have an accident and find himself separated from
