out an alien ship. I made a contribution. I proved my courage. We can't take out the Gate, but damn it, I did something.
He checked the shuttle's trajectory. The collision had knocked them off course. Their new vector would take them past the Gate at a range of several thousand kilometers. With the least bit of luck they would sail past undetected. After that … Well, after that he had no idea what he would do. Park somewhere behind the Gate, patch the hull, and wait for Earth to send reinforcements, he supposed.
He sighed, stretched to release some of the tension in his muscles, and resigned himself to a long, tense wait.
Chapter 19 – Wyatt
Bennelong Wyatt, known as "Benny" to his friends, tightened his grip on the cricket bat and squinted down the pitch at the bowler. The harsh Australian sun blazed from a cloudless sky, and he felt a trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades. He knew none of it was real, not his dream team of the ten greatest Aboriginal cricket players of the last two hundred years, not the visiting team from London, not even the bat in his hands. But the illusion was perfect. He could have sworn he was back on Earth, standing on a field under exactly one gravity, in the middle of a close-fought cricket match in front of hundreds of breathless spectators.
The bowler took a couple of steps back, his arm went back for the windup, Wyatt felt a tingle of anticipation, and the bowler started to move.
And the entire world flickered.
Wyatt swore and let go of the bat, which vanished before it hit the ground. Everything went dark as he struggled with the transition between controlling his virtual eyes and his real eyes. Then he blinked and looked up at the ceiling of the immersion pod.
Another face looked down at him, a red-haired woman with her forehead wrinkled in concern. "Sorry, Benny. There's something really strange going on."
He nodded and sat up, feeling his head swim as it always did in the first few moments after he left the illusion of Earth-normal gravity. Kukulcan's gravity was just over 60 percent, and he needed a few seconds to adjust.
"We got an emergency message from Freedom Station. There was another call from the James Joyce . Now everyone's off the air."
Wyatt stood, keeping a hand on the side of the pod until he was sure his dizziness had passed. "What do you mean, everyone?"
"We can't raise Freedom Station, or the James Joyce , or Albuquerque." She looked pale and frightened in the subdued lighting of the game room. "It's not our com systems, either. Joey went out and sat in the runabout. It's the same thing. Everybody's silent."
Wyatt stared at her, baffled. What kind of calamity could shut down all the radio traffic in an entire star system? It made no sense. "All right," he said, heading for the door. "Let's see what's going on."
As he walked to the command center he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he wasn't the man in charge. As the manager of Baffin Station he was the man with full responsibility in every crisis and disaster. Sometimes he deeply envied his subordinates, who could throw their hands up in despair and hand things over to him.
The little command center buzzed with activity. Jarvis, his second in command, stood leaning over a technician's shoulder. Jarvis met Wyatt's eyes and sagged with relief. He made a beckoning gesture. "You need to see this, Chief."
Wyatt stood beside him and watched as the technician tapped at the empty air in front of her. An image appeared on her screen, blurred and shaking with distance. Wyatt saw the familiar outline of Freedom Station.
"This is a recording from the main telescope," Jarvis said. "It's from less than five minutes ago." It took about twenty minutes for light from the station to reach Kukulcan. The events on the screen would be just under half an hour old, then.
He watched as strange ships swarmed around the station. When a lifeboat launched, it was little more than a bright point of
He checked the shuttle's trajectory. The collision had knocked them off course. Their new vector would take them past the Gate at a range of several thousand kilometers. With the least bit of luck they would sail past undetected. After that … Well, after that he had no idea what he would do. Park somewhere behind the Gate, patch the hull, and wait for Earth to send reinforcements, he supposed.
He sighed, stretched to release some of the tension in his muscles, and resigned himself to a long, tense wait.
Chapter 19 – Wyatt
Bennelong Wyatt, known as "Benny" to his friends, tightened his grip on the cricket bat and squinted down the pitch at the bowler. The harsh Australian sun blazed from a cloudless sky, and he felt a trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades. He knew none of it was real, not his dream team of the ten greatest Aboriginal cricket players of the last two hundred years, not the visiting team from London, not even the bat in his hands. But the illusion was perfect. He could have sworn he was back on Earth, standing on a field under exactly one gravity, in the middle of a close-fought cricket match in front of hundreds of breathless spectators.
The bowler took a couple of steps back, his arm went back for the windup, Wyatt felt a tingle of anticipation, and the bowler started to move.
And the entire world flickered.
Wyatt swore and let go of the bat, which vanished before it hit the ground. Everything went dark as he struggled with the transition between controlling his virtual eyes and his real eyes. Then he blinked and looked up at the ceiling of the immersion pod.
Another face looked down at him, a red-haired woman with her forehead wrinkled in concern. "Sorry, Benny. There's something really strange going on."
He nodded and sat up, feeling his head swim as it always did in the first few moments after he left the illusion of Earth-normal gravity. Kukulcan's gravity was just over 60 percent, and he needed a few seconds to adjust.
"We got an emergency message from Freedom Station. There was another call from the James Joyce . Now everyone's off the air."
Wyatt stood, keeping a hand on the side of the pod until he was sure his dizziness had passed. "What do you mean, everyone?"
"We can't raise Freedom Station, or the James Joyce , or Albuquerque." She looked pale and frightened in the subdued lighting of the game room. "It's not our com systems, either. Joey went out and sat in the runabout. It's the same thing. Everybody's silent."
Wyatt stared at her, baffled. What kind of calamity could shut down all the radio traffic in an entire star system? It made no sense. "All right," he said, heading for the door. "Let's see what's going on."
As he walked to the command center he found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he wasn't the man in charge. As the manager of Baffin Station he was the man with full responsibility in every crisis and disaster. Sometimes he deeply envied his subordinates, who could throw their hands up in despair and hand things over to him.
The little command center buzzed with activity. Jarvis, his second in command, stood leaning over a technician's shoulder. Jarvis met Wyatt's eyes and sagged with relief. He made a beckoning gesture. "You need to see this, Chief."
Wyatt stood beside him and watched as the technician tapped at the empty air in front of her. An image appeared on her screen, blurred and shaking with distance. Wyatt saw the familiar outline of Freedom Station.
"This is a recording from the main telescope," Jarvis said. "It's from less than five minutes ago." It took about twenty minutes for light from the station to reach Kukulcan. The events on the screen would be just under half an hour old, then.
He watched as strange ships swarmed around the station. When a lifeboat launched, it was little more than a bright point of
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