“How long until they realize the Wallfish isn’t in front of them?” Kira asked.
He shrugged. “No idea. Best-case scenario, a couple of hours. Worst case, sometime in the next thirty minutes. Either way, it should still be enough time to get out of their FTL sensor range.”
“And then what?”
A flicker of sly cunning crossed Falconi’s face. “We take a random walk, that’s what.” He jerked his thumb toward the aft of the ship. “The UMC gave us more than enough antimatter to fly to Bughunt and back. We’re using the spare to make a few extra hops, changing course each time, to throw off anyone trying to follow us.”
“But,” said Kira, trying to visualize the whole arrangement in her head, “they can still flash trace us, right?”
Gregorovich cackled and said, “They can, O my Inquisitive Mammal, but ’twill take time—time that will allow us to make our most hasty retreat.”
Falconi tipped a finger toward the speakers in the ceiling. “With each jump, it’ll be harder and harder for the Jellies and the nightmares to track us. This isn’t like the trip out here. We’re not going to be dropping out of FTL at regular intervals in what was pretty much a straight-shot flight.”
“We took precautions,” said Hawes, “but nothing as extreme as this.”
Nielsen said, “Once we’re out of sensor range, the Jellies won’t be able to predict when we go sublight. And if they miscalculate even one trajectory or miss even one jump—”
“They’ll end up waaay off,” said Falconi with a satisfied grin. “The Wallfish can cover almost three-quarters of a light-year in a day. Think how long you’d have to wait on a flash trace if you were off by even a few hours on one of our jumps. It could take days, weeks, or even months for the light to reach you.”
“So we’re actually going to make it,” said Kira.
A grim smile appeared on Falconi’s face. “Seems like it. Once we’re out far enough, the chances of any of ’em finding the Wallfish, even by accident, are going to be pretty much nil. Hell, unless they track us to our last jump, they won’t even know which system in the League we’re aiming for.”
The pressure pushing Kira against the wall ceased, and she had to hook the stump of her arm through a handhold to keep from drifting across the room. Then the jump alert echoed forth again, and again she felt the strange tingle pass across her skin.
“And which system would that be?” she asked.
“Sol,” said Nielsen.
2.
The second jump was longer than the first: forty-three minutes to be precise.
While they waited, Kira went with Hawes to talk with Itari. “You okay?” she asked as they left Control.
He didn’t meet her gaze. “Fine, thanks.”
“Akawe seemed like a good captain.”
“Yeah. He was. And he was crazy sharp. Him and Koyich.… There were a lot of good people on the Darmstadt.”
“I know. I’m sorry about what happened.”
He nodded, accepting the condolences.
“Is there anything you don’t want me to say?” Kira asked as they neared the airlock with the Jelly.
The lieutenant considered. “It probably doesn’t matter at this point, but whatever you know about Sol, the League, or the UMC, keep it to yourself.”
She nodded, lightly pushing against the wall to keep herself centered in the corridor. “I’ll try. If I’m not sure about something, I’ll check with you first.”
Hawes nodded. “That should work. We’re mostly interested in the Jellies’ military—placement of troops, tactics, future plans, et cetera—as well as their technology. Also details on why exactly this group of Jellies wants to join forces with us. So, politics, I guess. Anything else you can dig up would be a bonus.”
“Got it.”
At the airlock, Kira saw Itari floating near the back wall, its tentacles wrapped around itself in a protective embrace. The alien stirred and looked out with a single glossy eye from between a pair of tentacles. Curiosity. To be expected in any sentient organism, but Kira still found it intimidating. The intelligence lurking within the Jelly’s eye was a constant reminder that they were dealing with a creature just as capable as any human. Probably more so given its armored carapace and many limbs.
Hawes spoke with the Marines stationed on either side of the airlock—Sanchez and another man Kira didn’t recognize—and they opened the door, allowed Kira and the lieutenant inside. Kira moved to the front; Hawes stayed behind her and to the right.
[[Kira here: We would like to ask you questions. Will you answer them?]]
The Jelly rearranged its tentacles as it settled on the deck in front of them, holding itself in place with its suckers. [[Itari here: Speak, two-form, and I will answer as best I can.]]
First things first: definitions of terms. [[Kira here: Why do you call us two-forms? Do you mean…]] And she stalled out, unable to think of the Jelly word for male or female or even for sex. [[… do you mean like us?]] She motioned from herself to Hawes.
Nearscent of respectful disagreement. [[Itari here: No. I mean the form you have and the form that lives in your spaceships.]]
Of course. [[Kira here: Our ship minds?]]
[[Itari here: If that is what you call them, then yes. They give us much difficulty when we board your shells. Our first goal is always to disconnect or destroy them.]]
When Kira translated for Hawes, he snorted, darkly amused. “Good. At least they’ve learned to be scared of the minds.”
“As they should be,” Gregorovich whispered from the ceiling.
Hawes gave the speakers an annoyed glance. “This is classified, Gregorovich. Butt out.”
“And this is my ship,” Gregorovich answered, deadly quiet.
Hawes grunted and didn’t argue the point.
The Jelly shifted, a wash of reddish-pink moving across its tentacles. [[Itari here: We wonder, what relation do your ship minds have to your current forms? The one you call]]—and it produced a jumble of scents that, with some difficulty, Kira realized was the Jelly’s attempt to reproduce Tschetter’s name—[[Tschetter refused to discuss the subject. Are the minds subordinate to your form or are they senior?]]
Kira checked with Hawes, and he gave her the go-ahead. “Might as well tell it a bit,” said the lieutenant. “Reciprocity has to be worth something, right? Their civilization wouldn’t work otherwise.”
“Maybe,” Kira said. She didn’t feel confident of anything when it came to an alien society.
[[Kira here: Ship minds begin as one of us. We have to decide to become a ship mind. It does not happen on its own. A ship mind often knows and understands more than we do, but we do not always take orders from them. That depends on what position or authority the ship mind has. And not all ship minds are in ships. Many exist elsewhere.]]
The Jelly seemed to chew on that for a while. [[Itari here: I do not understand. Why would a form that is larger and more intelligent not be your shoal leader?]]
“Why indeed?” asked Gregorovich when Kira repeated the Jelly’s words. And he chuckled.
She struggled to answer. [[Kira here: Because … every one of us is different. Among our kind, you have to earn your position. It is not given to you just because you were born or built with certain traits.]] More definitions of terms, then: [[By forms you mean bodies, yes?]]