“I do understand,” said Deutsch. “We must assume that, at some point, our ship will reappear. When that happens, we should be ready to move.”
“Agreed,” Legroeder said. He had been running through various scenarios in his head, and the one that scared him the most was the one where they waited too long and found they’d missed their opportunity to escape. “It’s clear Palagren has a plan for attempting to fly out.”
“Great. What good does that do, if we don’t know what it is?” Poppy muttered.
“But we should be ready to act when we do find out what it is. And—” Legroeder focused inward for a moment “—the first question is whether we should try to fly the two ships out together, which could be very difficult and dangerous, or instead just get everyone over to Phoenix.” He turned to Captain Friedman, whose eyes he’d been avoiding. “I’m sorry, Captain. We must consider the possibility.”
Friedman’s face had turned even whiter, if that was possible. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered. “We have passengers who are hiding, crewmen disappearing and reappearing…” He shook his head, and appeared to regain strength as he drew a deep breath. “I don’t think we could ever be sure we had them all. And some people would never willingly leave the ship.”
Including you? Legroeder wondered.
“We cannot assume that everyone will be rational about it.”
“Well,” said Deutsch, “I think we would all prefer to bring Impris out, if we can do it safely. Our people very much want to study it.”
Jamal’s voice was a flat twang of skepticism. “I don’t know how we’re going to get one ship, let alone two, out of this—whatever you called it—fold in the underflux.” His nostrils flared. Prove it to me, his gleaming white eyes seemed to say.
Legroeder couldn’t; he could only guess what Palagren had been about to say. But it had something to do with the hidden structure in the Flux. “The Narseil seemed to think that those dreams of yours might be an important clue in how to get out.”
Jamal shuddered. “Man—if you are trying to reassure me, that’s not the way to do it.”
Legroeder persisted. “I think the dreams may be trying to tell us something about the Deep Flux. And the more you can tell us about them, the better.”
Jamal glanced at his crewmates, shrugged, and began talking.
“…I don’t always see the same thing, but it’s always the same feeling—you know what I’m saying? That there’s something out there.” Jamal’s voice fell to a murmur, straining. “Something that… devours.”
Legroeder suppressed a shiver as his own memories surfaced. “Suppose,” he said, following a sudden hunch, “that you had to confront this thing—whatever it is. To get your ship out. Could you do that? Could you face it?”
Jamal shook his head. “I just want to get away from it, man.”
“But suppose it’s what’s keeping you here.” Legroeder’s voice became husky. “Suppose, to find your way past it, you had to make it real. In the net. Could you?”
Beads of sweat were forming on Jamal’s forehead.
Legroeder felt a sudden wave of dizziness, and leaned heavily on his elbows for support. (What’s happening?)
// We have contact with the ship. //
“Thank God!” he gasped.
“For what?” said Poppy, who had been sitting tightlipped since giving a terse description of his dreams.
“Our ship is back,” Legroeder said. He held up a hand. (Put me through.)
// We have a voice channel—//
“Phoenix,” Legroeder snapped. “Can you hear me?”
“Legroeder?” called Cantha. “Are you there? For a few minutes, it looked like you flickered out. Not you—the whole ship.”
“Tell me about it. Look, Cantha—we have a crew here that’s ready to do whatever’s necessary to get out.” Right? he asked with his eyes, of the Impris riggers. Jamal scowled, while Poppy looked as if he had been drained of emotion. After a moment, Jamal nodded reluctantly; then Poppy. Good. “I think I should probably get back over to Phoenix to plan with you and Palagren,” Legroeder said to Cantha.
Jamal sneered at that. “What, you’re going to cut and run now? And leave us here?”
“I’m doing nothing of the kind,” Legroeder said, with annoyance. “But we’ve got a lot of planning to do.” He turned in his seat. “Freem’n, what do you think?”
Deutsch raised his chin. “Okay—but how about I stay and work with these guys. That okay with you?” He surveyed Friedman and the two Impris riggers, who looked frightened at the prospect. “Flying out of here is going be a real bitch, you know. Anyone else think formation flying, through instabilities and quantum fluctuations, might be hard?”
Poppy squinted hard at him. “You’ve got those—” He jerked his chin at Deutsch.
“Augments? Yes. I do.” Deutsch raised a hand to stop Poppy’s protest. “Look—if you guys want your ship to fly out with us, then we have to link the two nets together. I only know one way to do that. That’s for Legroeder and me to link ship-to-ship through our augments.” Ignoring their reluctance, he turned back to Legroeder. “Yes, I think that’s probably the way to do it.”
Legroeder nodded, lips tight. This was bound to be unnerving to the Impris riggers. It was unnerving to him, too. “If it’s okay with everyone, I’ll inform Captain Glenswarg and head back over.” He rose. “Could someone show me the way out?”
Stepping into the airlock, Legroeder peered uneasily through the outer hatch window. The connector to Phoenix was still there, still intact. But one of the Impris crewmen on watch was saying in a trembling voice, “A few minutes ago, that whole thing was gone. The ship and everything. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Legroeder tried not to show the fear that was tying his stomach in knots. What if one of the ships winked out while he was in the connecting tube?
Before he could reconsider, he slapped the hatch control. The inner hatch hissed shut, and the outer hatch hissed open. He stepped out into the tube.
He’d forgotten about the weightlessness. His first step sent him tumbling into flight. With a gasp, he caught a handhold and brought himself up short. Behind him, the hatch slid shut with a thunk. He was alone in the tunnel between the two ships. Where were the Kyber escort crewmen who had brought him over? He tried not to look at the Flux swirling around him, just beyond the transparent wall of the tube.
He pulled himself along quickly, but it was impossible to ignore the Flux; it was a magnet, drawing his gaze outward, to its vapors of blood. He was breathing in short, quick gasps; he could smell his own acrid fear. Jesus. He had to get across before he went crazy, just get across…
*
…but there was a tapping sound that blurred his concentration, and a strange, ringing vibration in the air… it was becoming impossible to think…