you feel like it.” Tobit grinned. “I also have a friend in high places: the real Admiral Ramos. She was the one who drafted me for First Explorer on the Jacaranda …to counterbalance whatever shitwork Prope is up to. Eventually the council will find an excuse to get me reassigned; and Ramos will send another of her favorite Explorers to keep Jacaranda honest. Even a dirty-tricks ship needs Explorers. Otherwise, the lily-fingered crew members would be the ones marching into stink holes full of rotting corpses.”
Tobit gave a sour look at the nearest dead bodies…and at that very moment, Willow’s alarm bells started blaring out RED ALERT.
8
EVACUATING WILLOW
The lounge’s vidscreen lit up on its own, showing the view through Willow’s hull cameras. “Danger status one,” the ship-soul announced. “Awaiting captain’s orders.” Its computer voice sounded sharper than usual. That wasn’t good—voice synthesizers don’t simulate emotion unless it’s really important for people to pay attention.
On the vidscreen, a new ship had popped up between the Jacaranda and Starbase Ms: a ship shaped exactly like Jacaranda itself but painted black with starlike speckles. The paint job looked prettier than the navy’s boring old white, but it sure wouldn’t work as camouflage…especially not at the moment, when the black ship was surrounded by the milky swim of a Sperm-field.
“What the hell’s going on?” Tobit asked. “Civilian vessels shouldn’t come anywhere near…holy shit!”
The strange black ship had just shot two missiles at Jacaranda.
The ships were less than a kilometer apart, so it didn’t take long for the missiles to cross the gap: two flashes of flame and vapor racing toward their target in less than a second. I caught my breath, wondering what would happen when the rockets struck home…but instead of banging straight into Jacaranda’ s hull, they angled off to swish close by on either side.
The missiles missed the ship, but snagged Jacaranda’ s Sperm-field.
Oh. Now I understood.
The missiles plowed on into empty space, and the Sperm-tail bagged out to stay with them, as if the milky field had got caught on the missiles’ noses. Probably, it had; I guessed that both missiles were using Sperm anchors to latch onto the field and drag it with them. They continued angling off in opposite directions, spreading Jacaranda’ s sperm envelope wide, like two hands inside a plastic bag, pushing out hard to make the bag stretch.
At the last second, the milky color of the Sperm-field broke into an unstable glitter of green and blue and gold; then the field popped like a soap bubble, stressed beyond its limits.
The missiles continued on their courses, disappearing into the darkness of space.
So much for Jacaranda’ s ability to go FTL. The crew would need twelve hours to generate a new field and get it aligned properly around the hull. That gave the black ship loads of time to do whatever it wanted and still escape without pursuit.
The stranger ship swiveled its nose toward Willow. “Uh-oh,” Tobit and I said in unison.
Tobit slammed his helmet back onto his head. Even before he’d locked it in place, he was yelling into the radio, “Benny, evacuate the ship. Don’t ask questions. Now, now, now!”
“Do you think they’re going to board us?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or they might take Willow in tow and run off with the whole damned ship.”
Steal the ship? While I was acting captain? I didn’t want to think what Dad would say about that.
“No more lollygagging,” Tobit shouted, grabbing my arm. “We have to get out of here.”
He dragged me from the lounge and down the corridor to the nearest evac module. It wasn’t far—in a navy ship, you’re never more than ten seconds from an escape pod. “Get in,” he said. “Next stop, Celestia.”
“What about you?”
“As soon as you’re gone, I’ll jump out an emergency airlock. There’s one
Tobit gave a sour look at the nearest dead bodies…and at that very moment, Willow’s alarm bells started blaring out RED ALERT.
8
EVACUATING WILLOW
The lounge’s vidscreen lit up on its own, showing the view through Willow’s hull cameras. “Danger status one,” the ship-soul announced. “Awaiting captain’s orders.” Its computer voice sounded sharper than usual. That wasn’t good—voice synthesizers don’t simulate emotion unless it’s really important for people to pay attention.
On the vidscreen, a new ship had popped up between the Jacaranda and Starbase Ms: a ship shaped exactly like Jacaranda itself but painted black with starlike speckles. The paint job looked prettier than the navy’s boring old white, but it sure wouldn’t work as camouflage…especially not at the moment, when the black ship was surrounded by the milky swim of a Sperm-field.
“What the hell’s going on?” Tobit asked. “Civilian vessels shouldn’t come anywhere near…holy shit!”
The strange black ship had just shot two missiles at Jacaranda.
The ships were less than a kilometer apart, so it didn’t take long for the missiles to cross the gap: two flashes of flame and vapor racing toward their target in less than a second. I caught my breath, wondering what would happen when the rockets struck home…but instead of banging straight into Jacaranda’ s hull, they angled off to swish close by on either side.
The missiles missed the ship, but snagged Jacaranda’ s Sperm-field.
Oh. Now I understood.
The missiles plowed on into empty space, and the Sperm-tail bagged out to stay with them, as if the milky field had got caught on the missiles’ noses. Probably, it had; I guessed that both missiles were using Sperm anchors to latch onto the field and drag it with them. They continued angling off in opposite directions, spreading Jacaranda’ s sperm envelope wide, like two hands inside a plastic bag, pushing out hard to make the bag stretch.
At the last second, the milky color of the Sperm-field broke into an unstable glitter of green and blue and gold; then the field popped like a soap bubble, stressed beyond its limits.
The missiles continued on their courses, disappearing into the darkness of space.
So much for Jacaranda’ s ability to go FTL. The crew would need twelve hours to generate a new field and get it aligned properly around the hull. That gave the black ship loads of time to do whatever it wanted and still escape without pursuit.
The stranger ship swiveled its nose toward Willow. “Uh-oh,” Tobit and I said in unison.
Tobit slammed his helmet back onto his head. Even before he’d locked it in place, he was yelling into the radio, “Benny, evacuate the ship. Don’t ask questions. Now, now, now!”
“Do you think they’re going to board us?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or they might take Willow in tow and run off with the whole damned ship.”
Steal the ship? While I was acting captain? I didn’t want to think what Dad would say about that.
“No more lollygagging,” Tobit shouted, grabbing my arm. “We have to get out of here.”
He dragged me from the lounge and down the corridor to the nearest evac module. It wasn’t far—in a navy ship, you’re never more than ten seconds from an escape pod. “Get in,” he said. “Next stop, Celestia.”
“What about you?”
“As soon as you’re gone, I’ll jump out an emergency airlock. There’s one
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