"We've been some time. They might very well think we were destroyed in the transit. I would like to know if they get any warning that something is coming through, but we'll have to put up with that."
"This is suicide," she muttered.
"That's why you had the chance to stay behind," Arrachachak pointed out. "The worst that I think is likely to happen is a minefield or a ship parked across the exit."
"Thanks," Marchero snapped.
They continued in silence, watching the distance markers on the main screen gradually decrease. The lights of ships eventually grew visible. The lights of several ships, some quite large. Someone had decided that a not insignificant military presence was a wise decision.
As the ship came to a halt near the gate a bulky vessel manoeuvred into position above them. It dropped a tube to an access portal on the upper hull, and began pumping Quirium fuel into the tanks. There had been continued reports of Schriy activity in the nearby Wolf 1421 system, and scooping there so as to enter the gate with full tanks had been viewed as an unnecessary risk.
Its job finished, the tanker backed off, as did all the other ships except those providing power to the collection of rings.
"System charged, as far as we know. We'll try to open the gate on your command."
"Acknowledged," Arrachachak replied. "Shut down," he told the bridge. Lights went dead and displays disappeared as most of the ship's systems were turned off. This time they were standing some distance clear of the rings, facing exactly down their tunnel.
Satisfied that they were as ready as possible, Arrachachak re-opened communications.
"Start it up," he asked simply.
"Starting. Good luck, and we hope to hear from you some day! IPT Alexander out."With most of the Constrictor's sensors switched off they could not see the build-up of Witchspace distortions that had heralded the the first opening, other than by telemetry from several sensor buoys that had been placed nearby. A minute passed before the first hints of the glowing charge appeared in the rings. The telemetry data started to go wild, although with the majority of the computer subsytems shut off they were unable to analyse it.
There was a distorted crackle over the speakers, out of which an artificial voice could just be heard. "Deep layer hyperspace link apparent to uncertain location in Far Colony territory." So far, so good.
The ship started to move, without any effort from its drives. A few sparks shot out from the nearest ring and were absorbed by the shields. The glows coalesced, exploding into a blinding flash that briefly illuminated the device and the nearby vessels. The Constrictor was drawn into it. In an instant the light vanished, and so did the ship. The instruments on the buoys reset themselves a few moments later, but all they could see were the emissions of their own ships.
For the travellers that world was behind them, and currently the least of their concerns. The passage had been smoother than before, but the ship was still tumbling wildly and it was still pitch dark. Held in by their belts, they clung on to the side of their seats and gritted their teeth.
The stomach-churning motions slowly subsided, then faded away completely.
"Initialise re-start," Arrachachak ordered, his voices loud in the silence. The computer picked it up and started waking the primary systems. The lights came on and sections of the consoles started to come back to life, allowing their operators to keep a careful eye on them as they brought dependent components back up.
Protected by the cautious entry the ship was in better shape than it had been during the first passage. Nothing appeared damaged, although the shields had been knocked down to ten percent and the energy banks had taken a battering from somewhere. As far as they could tell they were travelling in the same manner as before. There was no means of measuring progress, and all they could do was assume that the subjective time would be identical.
With only six people on board the ship seemed empty. The crowding that had so irritated some people had become as much of the Constrictor as the layout of the bridge or the noise of the air pumps. With nothing that needed to be done and nothing to do only two people were usually present on the bridge, and two or three would be sleeping, or trying to. When awake and off duty there was the collection of information they had brought with them to browse through, or videos and music from Earth, but they failed to lift the subdued atmosphere.
When, by their reckoning, they only had a couple of hours left until they re-entered real space, Arrachachak and Silsi were on the bridge. Arrachachak was lounging in the command chair, idly watching the hypnotic display on the view screen. Silsi was supposedly monitoring the flight control readings, but the slow, regular pattern of her breathing suggested she had dozed off.
Arrachachak squirmed, as if his seat was becoming uncomfortable. At the same time Silsi twitched awake, glanced at the monitors, and closed her eyes again. Five minutes later there was a shudder, as if the vessel was a sea ship on an ocean with a gentle swell, which quickly died out.
Mu staggered onto the bridge. "What're doing?" he demanded at Silsi.
"It's not me," she replied.
Mu dropped himself into a chair and peered at the sensor readings. He spat. "It's changed," he said, "although heaven knows what it means."
"Duck down a bit," Arrachachak ordered, moving over next to Mu and trying to read the screens.
"Damn," he breathed after a moment. "Mu, kick everyone up and get them here at once!"
"What?" Silsi began.
"Let's wait for everyone else," Arrachachak replied firmly.
Soon people were ambling into the bridge, a couple alert and with worried expressions, the later two dull-eyed and sleepy.
"This had better be good," Marchero yawned as she sat down and slouched in her usual seat.
The swell rocked the ship again. A subtle change in the light caused heads to turn to the viewscreen. The same distorted tunnel pattern was there, but now there seemed to be faint pulses of light passing by in the distance.
"Err..." someone muttered.
"Kirrik, have a look at this," Arrachachak asked, pointing at the sensor readings Mu had noticed.
Holding onto various chairs and walls to brace himself against the motion, Kirrik stumbled over to the console.
"Everyone strap themselves in!" he announced suddenly, staggering over to the empty secondary gunner's chair. There was a brief period of chaos as people stumbled around to obey, but they were quickly secured.
"The tunnel is being distorted," he informed them when they had settled down.
"Which means?" Mu snapped.
"We could be torn apart if it gets worse," he said calmly, even though the disturbances seemed to be quietening down.
"Aren't you worrying too much?" Marchero commented.
"I can't see how anything could be changed without outside influence," Kirrik replied. "Which probably means someone is fiddling with one of the gateway portals."
"Destroying it?" Silsi asked incredulously.
"Shooting at it, moving it, whatever. I can't know," he said sharply. His point was reinforced by the sudden return of the distortions. This time the ship started to buck about severely, causing hands to grip tightly the side of their chairs. The shield indicator started to drop, suggesting that what they were feeling was only part of the story.
"Bloody hell!" someone yelled, then a hopeless "Help!"
"Marchero, target the hyperdrive!" Kirrik snapped.
"On what? There's no point of reference!"
"Well guess, then!" Arrachachak shouted at her. "Whatever happens it can't be worse than staying here!"
Marchero struggled with the controls, her fingers having difficulty finding the keys in the rollercoaster motion. "Set up for untargetted jump."