electromuscle tentacles on the front; retracted, the tentacles were coiled in a fashion that somehow managed to look faintly obscene. Spacesuits were stored in small
cabinets, together with three sets of personal-manoeuvring harnesses. A long array of tools and science sensors were clipped to the bulkhead, opposite a row of inert zero-gee engineeringbots half
the size of a human. At the far end was an airlock chamber big enough for an exopod.
‘I’ll power up one of the exopods,’ Rojas said, ‘if you’d like to check the suits.’
‘Sure,’ Laura told him. The suit was simple enough, a slippery one-piece of silver grey fabric lined with elecromuscle threads. It expanded like a loose sack so the wearer could pull
it on, then the elecromuscle would contract, making it cling to the body like a second skin. Pores and capillaries harvested sweat, while a thermal-conductor web dissipated the excess heat a body
generated, keeping temperature constant and comfortable. The helmet was a classic transparent globe, with a multitude of filter functions and sensors built in. The suit collar adhered to it easily.
Oxygen regeneration was handled by a small package at the top of the spine. Usually, a force-field skeleton was worn on top, but Laura didn’t trust them right now. She checked some of the
other lockers, relieved to find thick protective outer suits that would be almost as effective at shielding the wearer from micro particle impacts. Exactly the kind of thing Ibu had talked about
putting on.
I should take one back up to him
.
Her u-shadow reported Ayanna opening a direct connection. ‘We’re getting some interesting results from the Mk16bs,’ she said.
‘I’ll take a look,’ Laura replied. Her u-shadow opened the feed from the flock, and she stopped bundling the protective oversuit back into the cabinet as she saw what her
exovision was presenting.
The flock had almost completed their exploratory flight along the deep ridge. Right at the narrow tip of the distortion tree, where the twisting ridges began to merge, the scan had revealed some
irregular lumps. Lumps that had a surface temperature of thirty-five degrees Celsius. The flock shifted sensor focus, concentrating on the anomaly.
In Laura’s exovision they were dark spheres, tumours that had swollen up out of the elegant glowing crystal of the main structure. The visual sensors showed over fifty of them, ranging in
size from pebbles to globes nearly three metres across. Their skin was wrinkled, a dark grey that might have been at the extreme edge of green.
‘Avocados,’ she murmured. ‘Ripe avocados.’ For that was what they resembled.
Despite the best efforts of the drone flock to magnify the site, the point where the crystal ended and the globe began was uncertain; they merged together as if the globes were somehow rooted
into the ridge, emphasizing the whole tumour concept.
‘Skylord eggs,’ Joey said.
‘We need to go and take a sample,’ Rojas said.
‘We do,’ Laura said, reviewing the rest of the results from the flock. ‘But our primary mission is to assess the Forest’s quantum abnormality. Take a look at the negative
energy effect down at the bottom of the ridge; those are very complex patterns. That has to be where the whole time-flow manipulation is generated.’
‘Okay, I’ll prioritize that,’ Rojas said.
‘Great.’ Laura flashed him a smile of thanks across the EVA hangar.
‘Let me know what functionality the sample modules have got, and check the deep sensors as well, please.’
‘Sure.’
‘Ibu, come down and grab yourself a suit,’ Rojas said. ‘You can take the right-hand seat.’
‘On my way,’ Ibu replied.
‘What?’ Laura snapped. She’d simply assumed she’d be the one in the right-hand seat of the exopod.
‘Ibu has a thousand hours’ zero-gee work logged in the last twenty years,’ Rojas explained patiently. ‘You have a couple of mandatory one-hour safety drills, and the
cabinets, together with three sets of personal-manoeuvring harnesses. A long array of tools and science sensors were clipped to the bulkhead, opposite a row of inert zero-gee engineeringbots half
the size of a human. At the far end was an airlock chamber big enough for an exopod.
‘I’ll power up one of the exopods,’ Rojas said, ‘if you’d like to check the suits.’
‘Sure,’ Laura told him. The suit was simple enough, a slippery one-piece of silver grey fabric lined with elecromuscle threads. It expanded like a loose sack so the wearer could pull
it on, then the elecromuscle would contract, making it cling to the body like a second skin. Pores and capillaries harvested sweat, while a thermal-conductor web dissipated the excess heat a body
generated, keeping temperature constant and comfortable. The helmet was a classic transparent globe, with a multitude of filter functions and sensors built in. The suit collar adhered to it easily.
Oxygen regeneration was handled by a small package at the top of the spine. Usually, a force-field skeleton was worn on top, but Laura didn’t trust them right now. She checked some of the
other lockers, relieved to find thick protective outer suits that would be almost as effective at shielding the wearer from micro particle impacts. Exactly the kind of thing Ibu had talked about
putting on.
I should take one back up to him
.
Her u-shadow reported Ayanna opening a direct connection. ‘We’re getting some interesting results from the Mk16bs,’ she said.
‘I’ll take a look,’ Laura replied. Her u-shadow opened the feed from the flock, and she stopped bundling the protective oversuit back into the cabinet as she saw what her
exovision was presenting.
The flock had almost completed their exploratory flight along the deep ridge. Right at the narrow tip of the distortion tree, where the twisting ridges began to merge, the scan had revealed some
irregular lumps. Lumps that had a surface temperature of thirty-five degrees Celsius. The flock shifted sensor focus, concentrating on the anomaly.
In Laura’s exovision they were dark spheres, tumours that had swollen up out of the elegant glowing crystal of the main structure. The visual sensors showed over fifty of them, ranging in
size from pebbles to globes nearly three metres across. Their skin was wrinkled, a dark grey that might have been at the extreme edge of green.
‘Avocados,’ she murmured. ‘Ripe avocados.’ For that was what they resembled.
Despite the best efforts of the drone flock to magnify the site, the point where the crystal ended and the globe began was uncertain; they merged together as if the globes were somehow rooted
into the ridge, emphasizing the whole tumour concept.
‘Skylord eggs,’ Joey said.
‘We need to go and take a sample,’ Rojas said.
‘We do,’ Laura said, reviewing the rest of the results from the flock. ‘But our primary mission is to assess the Forest’s quantum abnormality. Take a look at the negative
energy effect down at the bottom of the ridge; those are very complex patterns. That has to be where the whole time-flow manipulation is generated.’
‘Okay, I’ll prioritize that,’ Rojas said.
‘Great.’ Laura flashed him a smile of thanks across the EVA hangar.
‘Let me know what functionality the sample modules have got, and check the deep sensors as well, please.’
‘Sure.’
‘Ibu, come down and grab yourself a suit,’ Rojas said. ‘You can take the right-hand seat.’
‘On my way,’ Ibu replied.
‘What?’ Laura snapped. She’d simply assumed she’d be the one in the right-hand seat of the exopod.
‘Ibu has a thousand hours’ zero-gee work logged in the last twenty years,’ Rojas explained patiently. ‘You have a couple of mandatory one-hour safety drills, and the
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