“We talked about it before, remember?” asked Legroeder, thinking, it wasn’t much more than an hour ago.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think we were going to fly right into the thing’s face!” Jamal protested. “It’s not like we exactly agreed to it.”
“No, we didn’t,” Poppy whispered, behind him.
Legroeder drew a breath, wanting to close his eyes and go somewhere far, far away. “We talked about the fact that it might be necessary.”
Palagren stepped up beside him to speak into the com. Jamal’s eyes grew even wider at the sight of the Narseil. “You are right, that this is a dangerous plan,” Palagren said. “But we know what will happen if we stay. The situation will grow steadily more desperate. We won’t have saved you; we will have doomed you, and us, to watching each other die… very slowly.”
“But—” You Narseil, Jamal seemed about to say. He didn’t complete the thought aloud.
Friedman faded out of the image, then reappeared. “If I may point out—we have watched people die here, and it is not pleasant.”
By now, they had all heard the story: the boy who in despair had poisoned himself with a fast-acting poison—or so he had thought. Due to the time distortions, he had died for almost a year, ship’s time. The captain had finally moved him to the bridge, where time seemed to move faster, to complete the process.
The two Impris riggers stood silent. They had no answer.
“I don’t know about you,” Friedman continued, “but I think a hundred and twenty-four years are enough. Let’s do it.”
Poppy and Jamal looked at each other, then at Deutsch. “Will he be flying with us?” Jamal asked.
“You can’t ask for a better rigger on board with you,” said Legroeder.
“He has those… things,” Poppy said.
Legroeder drew a deep breath. “Yes. And those things may be what enable us to get you out. Give him a chance. I think you’ll be surprised. Right, Freem’n?”
Before Deutsch could reply, Friedman said, “Consider it done. Riggers, make ready to sail.”
Poppy and Jamal frowned. But if they were tempted to argue, something in the captain’s expression persuaded them otherwise. One after another, they turned reluctantly toward their stations.
Departure had to await the engineers’ completion of their work on the Impris powerplant. Legroeder’s anxieties mounted with the delay, but they didn’t dare fly without ensuring that Impris’s flux-reactor and field components were properly tuned. Twice more, the other ship flickered out, leaving those on the Phoenix bridge holding their breaths. But when it reappeared the second time, they got the all-clear call from the Kyber engineers on Impris, and the riggers hurried to their posts.
As the rigger-station closed around him, Legroeder thought of how tired he felt, and how much he longed for a good night’s sleep. It was foolhardy to fly while exhausted. But it would be worse to wait while things deteriorated. (Whatever else you guys do, make sure I stay alert, okay?)
// Roger wilco, // he heard in reply.
Legroeder was joined in the Phoenix net by Palagren and Ker’sell, and Cantha in Deutsch’s place. They had decided that Cantha’s inexperience in the net was outweighed by his knowledge of the quantum flaw. Cantha would ride in the top gun position, as observer and advisor. Legroeder, while still in command of the net, would fly in his accustomed stern-rigger spot; Palagren was in the lead position, and Ker’sell was at the keel. If Ker’sell still harbored any suspicions about Legroeder, he was keeping them to himself.
In the Impris net, Freem’n Deutsch would be the commanding rigger. There had been some argument about that; the Impris riggers had not been eager to relinquish control. But Captain Friedman had agreed that it was the best way to fly the ships in formation—with Deutsch’s and Legroeder’s augments linked by flux-com.
Is everyone ready? Legroeder asked across the joined nets, as the connecting tube was drawn back to the Kyber ship. Deutsch murmured acknowledgment, as did the Narseil. Jamal and Poppy muttered ambiguously to themselves, probably trying not to show their fear.
We are disconnecting from hard-dock now, came the voice of Glenswarg. Riggers, you may begin your flight. As he spoke, the tethers were released and the ships were gently pushed apart by the forcefield bumpers. The two nets separated, and the connection between Legroeder’s augments and Freem’n Deutsch’s switched to a flux-com link.
Prepare to descend, Legroeder called. All riggers, begin to still your thoughts. Let’s start with a standard meditation. He drew a breath and let it out slowly, and allowed his vision to go to soft focus. Drawing on exercises from his earliest rigger training, he began to allow conscious thought to drain from his mind. Around him, the others were doing the same.
Through the connection Legroeder became aware of the Impris riggers jittering around. Relax, everyone, he called softly.
They began to form images, underwater at first. Legroeder exhaled, watching his breath bubble away. Reduce buoyancy… sink… This okay with everyone? As soon as the words were out, he realized that the Impris riggers were struggling.
I can’t swim! Jamal cried.
Startled, Legroeder let the image dissolve. Is this better? He spun forth an old standby for meditations: a hillside sprinkled with wildflowers. He reclined in the grass and gazed up into a deep cerulean sky. Fill it in however seems best to you.
That seemed to work better for Jamal and Poppy. Sighing, Legroeder closed his eyes halfway. He too was having trouble calming down.
// Would you like assistance? An alpha-field? //
(No, let me take it the same way as Jamal and Poppy. I need to know how they’re feeling.)
// Understood. //
He tried to let his thoughts go. Banks of pastel mist floated overhead, became clouds drifting in a cyan summer sky. What color sky do you see, everyone?
Ah, deep purple, said Palagren.
Blue, shading off to green. Deutsch.
Blue. Pale blue. That was Poppy.
I feel, said Ker’sell, as if I am back home, waiting for the rain to fall and bring the brinies up to the surface.
You are indeed relaxed, Palagren murmured, if you can think of eating at a time like this.
Legroeder let a small chuckle escape. He was beginning, just beginning, to let go of his anxieties. He glanced over at Impris, a ghostly silver presence on the hillside…
The other ship winked out.
// Loss of signal. //
He cursed. (Time fluctuation?)
// Most likely. //
Palagren seemed not to have noticed. Legroeder called to him and the Narseil looked around in puzzlement. What do you mean? Impris is right there. They’re starting to look a little transparent, though.