Read Online The Prodigal Sun by Sean Williams, Shane Dix - Free Book Online
Authors: Sean Williams, Shane Dix
Ads: Link
check on the others, but the acceleration would not allow her.
Thrust increased twofold for an instant, accompanied by a thunderous rattling on the hull. The lander slewed violently, as though flying through atmospheric turbulence.
Her mental voice was faint beneath the noise.
She forced herself to relax as much as she could, letting her abnormally heavy body roll with the vibrations and trying not to worry about damage to the lander’s hull. It was out of her hands entirely now. All she could do was hope that the Box knew what it was doing.
The voice of the AI was no different from normal, as though riding the envelope of a thermonuclear explosion was all in a day’s work.
Roche felt herself lift from the couch, her body pressing momentarily against the sudden tautness of the restraints. The rattling on the hull continued for a while before fading into silence. The occasional tap-tap of smaller thrusters came through the hull, changing the attitude of the lander slightly and making her stomach roll. A few minutes later she was weightless.
Her mind was heavy, however, with the knowledge of the carnage they had left behind.
said the Box.
Roche forced herself to think about the future.
She nodded. It was a sensible strategy, given the situation: with no anchor or slow-jump drive and only a small amount of fuel, their possible destinations were limited to Kanaga Station in orbit or Port Parvati on the surface. Their decision would depend on the Dato and the movements of the Marauder.
Roche loosened her restraint harness and massaged her aching muscles. The Box was right: had the Midnight exploded a minute sooner, they wouldn’t have made it.
“Except find a few answers, perhaps,” she muttered as she swung herself free of the chair, hooking the fingers of one hand around a grip to stabilize herself in the zero-g.
Cane watched unblinkingly from his seat at the copilot’s station as she swiveled in midair to face him.
“We survived,” he said. His natural smile reflected his calm disposition. Their abrupt departure didn’t appear to have affected him in any way. “Whoever it was that spoke to me in my cell was right: you have been able to help me.”
“So it would seem.” She sensed no dissembling in his face and posture—and his gratitude seemed genuine—but she still couldn’t afford to trust him. She knew too little to turn her back on him just yet.
She moved over to check on the Eckandi and the Surin, her movements within the cramped lander awkward and clumsy. A quick look confirmed her suspicions.
“Good. They won’t wake for a while.” She returned to her own couch and looked across at Cane. “I think it’s time we talked.”
“Whatever you want, Commander.”
“How much do you actually remember?”
“I told you: I woke up a few days ago on the ship with no memory beyond my name. Since then, apart from a few visits from the ship’s science officer, I’ve been left alone.”
“Do you know that
Thrust increased twofold for an instant, accompanied by a thunderous rattling on the hull. The lander slewed violently, as though flying through atmospheric turbulence.
She forced herself to relax as much as she could, letting her abnormally heavy body roll with the vibrations and trying not to worry about damage to the lander’s hull. It was out of her hands entirely now. All she could do was hope that the Box knew what it was doing.
Roche felt herself lift from the couch, her body pressing momentarily against the sudden tautness of the restraints. The rattling on the hull continued for a while before fading into silence. The occasional tap-tap of smaller thrusters came through the hull, changing the attitude of the lander slightly and making her stomach roll. A few minutes later she was weightless.
Her mind was heavy, however, with the knowledge of the carnage they had left behind.
said the Box.
Roche forced herself to think about the future.
She nodded. It was a sensible strategy, given the situation: with no anchor or slow-jump drive and only a small amount of fuel, their possible destinations were limited to Kanaga Station in orbit or Port Parvati on the surface. Their decision would depend on the Dato and the movements of the Marauder.
Roche loosened her restraint harness and massaged her aching muscles. The Box was right: had the Midnight exploded a minute sooner, they wouldn’t have made it.
“Except find a few answers, perhaps,” she muttered as she swung herself free of the chair, hooking the fingers of one hand around a grip to stabilize herself in the zero-g.
Cane watched unblinkingly from his seat at the copilot’s station as she swiveled in midair to face him.
“We survived,” he said. His natural smile reflected his calm disposition. Their abrupt departure didn’t appear to have affected him in any way. “Whoever it was that spoke to me in my cell was right: you have been able to help me.”
“So it would seem.” She sensed no dissembling in his face and posture—and his gratitude seemed genuine—but she still couldn’t afford to trust him. She knew too little to turn her back on him just yet.
She moved over to check on the Eckandi and the Surin, her movements within the cramped lander awkward and clumsy. A quick look confirmed her suspicions.
“Good. They won’t wake for a while.” She returned to her own couch and looked across at Cane. “I think it’s time we talked.”
“Whatever you want, Commander.”
“How much do you actually remember?”
“I told you: I woke up a few days ago on the ship with no memory beyond my name. Since then, apart from a few visits from the ship’s science officer, I’ve been left alone.”
“Do you know that
Similar Books
