we’ll get lucky and Bumberpuff will find the Hypatia right away.”
WHEN QUENTIN AND THE OTHERS reached the bridge, Bumberpuff was staring at a hologram with a miniature representation of Rosalind in the center.
“Nothing yet,” she said before Quentin could even ask. “We’re alone. No sign of the Hypatia . I’m sorry, Quentin.”
Of course, it couldn’t be that easy, but he’d held out hope for a miracle.
“I want to see for myself,” he said. “Can you grow that viewing deck again?”
Rosalind sighed. “Don’t trust my observations, Quentin? Well, fine. I don’t mind, as long as it makes you happy. Hold on a moment.”
The gnarled material beneath his feet rumbled and vibrated. Quentin saw the room’s walls waver, large chunks of gnarled black moving and shifting. Then, he saw a few stars: Rosalind’s hull became transparent. Seconds later, a full viewport bubble formed.
“As you requested,” the ship said. “By all means, see if your tiny little Human eyes can spot something I missed.”
Quentin stepped into the bubble. The others hung back, obviously wanting to give him his space.
Far off, in all directions, he saw the Cloud’s signature amethyst glow. Three hazy, glowing orbs dominated the space straight ahead. Quentin couldn’t begin to estimate how far away those stars were. Smaller, teardrop-shaped stars surrounded them, tails pointing away from the trio.
He turned to his friends. “Mike, can you come here for a second?”
The HeavyG lineman joined Quentin in the bubble.
Quentin pointed to a teardrop-shaped star, then another, then another. “Why aren’t those spherical?”
“The three right in front of us are known as the Triplets,” Kimberlin said. “Three stars so big, so powerful, the radiation coming off them creates solar wind that overpowers nearby stars, stripping off outer gas like a river slowly eroding a clump of dirt.”
Quentin had never seen anything like it. Stars were usually dots of light on a field of endless black. Here, the stars fought to be seen against the background glow, and there were so many of them, packed in more densely than what he’d experienced standing on the surface of any planet or ship.
So much to see, and yet the area immediately around Rosalind looked like any other kind of space: garden-variety blackness.
“We must be in a pocket or something,” Quentin said. “There’s no gas around us, just off in the distance.”
“Oh, it’s there,” Kimberlin said. “The gas is extremely dense, relatively speaking. But even gas that is dense by galactic standards is incredibly thin when compared to, say, the atmosphere on Micovi. So, you are inside the Cloud. You can tell because you see purple in all directions instead of just one. Thought you’d see streamers of purple drifting in our wake, like in the movies?”
Quentin nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought I’d see. Life is never like in the movies.”
Mike laughed and shook his big head. “So says the orphan from Micovi, born with a cannon for an arm, who wound up in the PNFL because someone saw him throw a rock , who then moved up to the GFL, where he heroically won a Galaxy Bowl and became one of the most recognized sentients in the galaxy. The one person whose life actually is like a movie doesn’t think life is like a movie at all.”
Sometimes, Mike’s know-it-all attitude annoyed the hell out of Quentin.
“Like you’re any different,” Quentin said. “The HeavyG offensive guard, one of the few of his race playing a position dominated by Ki, winning not one, not two, but three Galaxy Bowl rings. And your past, getting over what happened to you, and ...”
Quentin’s words trailed off when he saw Michael’s expression fade from happy and interested to sullen and regretful. Mike had a dark chapter in his past, during his tenure with the Jupiter Jacks. Quentin knew Mike had killed a teammate — and not on the practice field, where such things might happen in
WHEN QUENTIN AND THE OTHERS reached the bridge, Bumberpuff was staring at a hologram with a miniature representation of Rosalind in the center.
“Nothing yet,” she said before Quentin could even ask. “We’re alone. No sign of the Hypatia . I’m sorry, Quentin.”
Of course, it couldn’t be that easy, but he’d held out hope for a miracle.
“I want to see for myself,” he said. “Can you grow that viewing deck again?”
Rosalind sighed. “Don’t trust my observations, Quentin? Well, fine. I don’t mind, as long as it makes you happy. Hold on a moment.”
The gnarled material beneath his feet rumbled and vibrated. Quentin saw the room’s walls waver, large chunks of gnarled black moving and shifting. Then, he saw a few stars: Rosalind’s hull became transparent. Seconds later, a full viewport bubble formed.
“As you requested,” the ship said. “By all means, see if your tiny little Human eyes can spot something I missed.”
Quentin stepped into the bubble. The others hung back, obviously wanting to give him his space.
Far off, in all directions, he saw the Cloud’s signature amethyst glow. Three hazy, glowing orbs dominated the space straight ahead. Quentin couldn’t begin to estimate how far away those stars were. Smaller, teardrop-shaped stars surrounded them, tails pointing away from the trio.
He turned to his friends. “Mike, can you come here for a second?”
The HeavyG lineman joined Quentin in the bubble.
Quentin pointed to a teardrop-shaped star, then another, then another. “Why aren’t those spherical?”
“The three right in front of us are known as the Triplets,” Kimberlin said. “Three stars so big, so powerful, the radiation coming off them creates solar wind that overpowers nearby stars, stripping off outer gas like a river slowly eroding a clump of dirt.”
Quentin had never seen anything like it. Stars were usually dots of light on a field of endless black. Here, the stars fought to be seen against the background glow, and there were so many of them, packed in more densely than what he’d experienced standing on the surface of any planet or ship.
So much to see, and yet the area immediately around Rosalind looked like any other kind of space: garden-variety blackness.
“We must be in a pocket or something,” Quentin said. “There’s no gas around us, just off in the distance.”
“Oh, it’s there,” Kimberlin said. “The gas is extremely dense, relatively speaking. But even gas that is dense by galactic standards is incredibly thin when compared to, say, the atmosphere on Micovi. So, you are inside the Cloud. You can tell because you see purple in all directions instead of just one. Thought you’d see streamers of purple drifting in our wake, like in the movies?”
Quentin nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought I’d see. Life is never like in the movies.”
Mike laughed and shook his big head. “So says the orphan from Micovi, born with a cannon for an arm, who wound up in the PNFL because someone saw him throw a rock , who then moved up to the GFL, where he heroically won a Galaxy Bowl and became one of the most recognized sentients in the galaxy. The one person whose life actually is like a movie doesn’t think life is like a movie at all.”
Sometimes, Mike’s know-it-all attitude annoyed the hell out of Quentin.
“Like you’re any different,” Quentin said. “The HeavyG offensive guard, one of the few of his race playing a position dominated by Ki, winning not one, not two, but three Galaxy Bowl rings. And your past, getting over what happened to you, and ...”
Quentin’s words trailed off when he saw Michael’s expression fade from happy and interested to sullen and regretful. Mike had a dark chapter in his past, during his tenure with the Jupiter Jacks. Quentin knew Mike had killed a teammate — and not on the practice field, where such things might happen in
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