Today's Reading
"I believe his ship is approaching," Makaio-Yalbo said.
Faraji frowned. "Believe?"
The basic scan of space around the Alumata unfolded within his brain, similar to a sphere of dusky water. A fuzzy point slipped across it, so insignificant many would take it for a glitch.
"How ironic," Makaio-Yalbo murmured. "A peacock pulling in his feathers." He looked up at the lounge's window and pointed at a tattered scarlet curlicue within the glowing nebula.
A small, pale oval appeared against it, exposed now as darkness drained away from its surface. As they watched it decelerate to rendezvous with their own ship, it began to change shape with the ease of a liquid. By the time it finished decelerating and came to rest a kilometer away, it was a long cone with a crown of ten spikes emerging from its base and curving around to run parallel to the main bulk. Makaio-Yalbo found something about its shape intrinsically disturbing—undoubtedly because the tip of each spike was aligned unwaveringly on the Alumata.
"That is really cool," Faraji announced happily.
"Each dominion has its own areas of excellence." Even so, he couldn't help admire the Heresy Dominion starship. Perhaps there was some envy as well; it was nearly twice the length of the Alumata, which spoke to how they valued their archon. But the Heresy lacked traditional warships, which meant individual ships were fitted with powerful defensive systems.
"Our starships are good, though, aren't they?" Faraji asked.
"Yes. Especially our navy ships."
"Are we going on board?"
Makaio-Yalbo hesitated. Those spikes&"Yes." He put his hand back on the connection bulb and told the Alumata network to negotiate a docking protocol with the visitor.
"So what do we—" Faraji began.
Makaio-Yalbo held up a hand. "A moment, please. I must prepare myself. The Heresy archon can be challenging."
"Are you going to use a rider?"
"Yes. It will assist my focus."
"Honestly, father, I can't see how it'll make a difference. You're like the calmest person in the whole Centauri Cluster."
"You don't have to adulate me. You are already part me. You will be me."
Faraji shrugged.
* * *
FINN'S SCREAM FAILED after a couple of seconds. It was so cold he could feel his extremities shutting down as the air howled ferociously around him. Not that it mattered. The lack of oxygen was already diluting his thoughts, drawing him mercifully away from the real world. The wind was delivering a street-gang beating to his flesh, sending him tumbling. With his wrists and ankles bound, he couldn't even attempt to halt the crazy spin. Confusingly, he thought he glimpsed the plane's orange strobe whipping past again. The plane itself had vanished. Opalescent light played across his freezing skin.
After ten seconds hurtling down through the hostile air, Finn finally stopped his chaotic spinning. The weird orange light shone across him again. He almost didn't notice it, his body was so numb now. Below him, the rugged sprawl of mountains had grown significantly larger.
A dark shape slid into view beside him, a cylinder barely a meter long, with a small pair of fins at the back, framing a nozzle whose ion jet glowed an intense turquoise as it emitted a high-pitched rumble. An orange strobe flashed on the tip of its pointed nose cone. It matched his speed and held itself half a meter away.
His vocal cords were so cold, all he could manage was to grunt: "Huh?"
...
