Collective and the Planetary Union — have combined their signal-analysis efforts to gather information on this mysterious race. Those efforts have detected regular punch-drive activity and some stray communications that escaped the interference zone. Analysts agree that there are at least two planetary bodies in Portath space. Little is known of these planets other than their names: Thew and Faskah.
TRAVEL WARNINGS
The Portath Cloud is considered the most dangerous place in the galaxy, even more so than Prawatt Jihad territory. Over one thousand military vessels — including a Creterakian fleet some nine hundred ships strong — have entered the Cloud. Only seven have escaped. An estimated forty other vessels — including missions of scientific, religious, exploratory and capitalistic nature — have also entered the Cloud, never to be heard from again.
5
Rendezvous
THE BURLY’S DINGY ACCOMMODATIONS were far more suited to Quentin’s days as an orphan miner on Micovi than his current, glamorous status as the GFL’s top quarterback. No five-star hotel, no luxury yacht, no private room aboard the immaculate Touchback — here, all six Krakens and Doc Patah stayed crammed together in the small crew lounge.
Even before the cots had been brought in, the lounge would have comfortably held only about six Humans. Six normal-sized Humans. The room smelled — partially because the temperature seemed ten degrees too high, enough to make everyone constantly tacky with sweat, and partially because of Ju Tweedy’s digestive system. It was a mystery how Ju’s body processed the same food they all ate into some of the most noxious farts Quentin had ever experienced.
The bunks were the worst part of it, though. They were too small for pro football players, to say the least. Quentin couldn’t get comfortable in them. When he could sleep, he woke with pain in his hip from being pressed into the small space. Not that pain was all that unusual — the many hits he’d taken during the season had added up.
The only good part of the trip was that Messal had, somehow, managed to provide everyone with several changes of clothes. Quentin was grateful for the pants, shirts, socks, underwear and work boots he found in his duffel bag. Everyone’s clothes fit them perfectly — how Messal had pulled that off on such short notice, Quentin had no idea.
The Burly’s crew worked in three shifts, and the ship was always busy. The captain insisted the Krakens stay confined to the crew lounge, so they wouldn’t get in the way.
That meant Quentin couldn’t get Becca alone. She was always around someone: Ju, Kimberlin, Doc Patah, Crazy George ... anyone but John, who stayed as far away from her as the limited space would allow. Maybe that was for the best. Quentin kept flip-flopping between the need to talk to Becca and the need to stay focused on Jeanine and Fred; at the moment, that flip landed purely on the side of his missing sister.
It took a day to punch to Loppu Waypoint in the Planetary Union, another day to reach the planet Home, also in the Union, a half-day to reach Solomon in Purist Nation space, and finally a half-day to hit Mason. All that time, the Krakens players were kept cooped up, trying to find things to do to humor themselves. George risked the wrath of the crew to wander the ship. John watched old movies on a messageboard. Ju slept (and farted, oh High One how he farted).
Quentin, Kimberlin, Doc Patah and Becca, however, spent their time studying. They sat on benches made for smaller bodies, hunched over a dirty, scratched table that was little more than a rail, and studied everything they could about the Portath Cloud — not that there was much to study.
Quentin sighed, gave his messageboard a little toss. It clattered against the table.
“This can’t be the best book on the Portath Cloud,” he said. “The Cloud of Mystery ? That’s all the big-brain types have on the place?”
Kimberlin shrugged.
TRAVEL WARNINGS
The Portath Cloud is considered the most dangerous place in the galaxy, even more so than Prawatt Jihad territory. Over one thousand military vessels — including a Creterakian fleet some nine hundred ships strong — have entered the Cloud. Only seven have escaped. An estimated forty other vessels — including missions of scientific, religious, exploratory and capitalistic nature — have also entered the Cloud, never to be heard from again.
5
Rendezvous
THE BURLY’S DINGY ACCOMMODATIONS were far more suited to Quentin’s days as an orphan miner on Micovi than his current, glamorous status as the GFL’s top quarterback. No five-star hotel, no luxury yacht, no private room aboard the immaculate Touchback — here, all six Krakens and Doc Patah stayed crammed together in the small crew lounge.
Even before the cots had been brought in, the lounge would have comfortably held only about six Humans. Six normal-sized Humans. The room smelled — partially because the temperature seemed ten degrees too high, enough to make everyone constantly tacky with sweat, and partially because of Ju Tweedy’s digestive system. It was a mystery how Ju’s body processed the same food they all ate into some of the most noxious farts Quentin had ever experienced.
The bunks were the worst part of it, though. They were too small for pro football players, to say the least. Quentin couldn’t get comfortable in them. When he could sleep, he woke with pain in his hip from being pressed into the small space. Not that pain was all that unusual — the many hits he’d taken during the season had added up.
The only good part of the trip was that Messal had, somehow, managed to provide everyone with several changes of clothes. Quentin was grateful for the pants, shirts, socks, underwear and work boots he found in his duffel bag. Everyone’s clothes fit them perfectly — how Messal had pulled that off on such short notice, Quentin had no idea.
The Burly’s crew worked in three shifts, and the ship was always busy. The captain insisted the Krakens stay confined to the crew lounge, so they wouldn’t get in the way.
That meant Quentin couldn’t get Becca alone. She was always around someone: Ju, Kimberlin, Doc Patah, Crazy George ... anyone but John, who stayed as far away from her as the limited space would allow. Maybe that was for the best. Quentin kept flip-flopping between the need to talk to Becca and the need to stay focused on Jeanine and Fred; at the moment, that flip landed purely on the side of his missing sister.
It took a day to punch to Loppu Waypoint in the Planetary Union, another day to reach the planet Home, also in the Union, a half-day to reach Solomon in Purist Nation space, and finally a half-day to hit Mason. All that time, the Krakens players were kept cooped up, trying to find things to do to humor themselves. George risked the wrath of the crew to wander the ship. John watched old movies on a messageboard. Ju slept (and farted, oh High One how he farted).
Quentin, Kimberlin, Doc Patah and Becca, however, spent their time studying. They sat on benches made for smaller bodies, hunched over a dirty, scratched table that was little more than a rail, and studied everything they could about the Portath Cloud — not that there was much to study.
Quentin sighed, gave his messageboard a little toss. It clattered against the table.
“This can’t be the best book on the Portath Cloud,” he said. “The Cloud of Mystery ? That’s all the big-brain types have on the place?”
Kimberlin shrugged.
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