“Without observations, scientists can only speculate. There have been few observations where the Portath are involved.”
“Not few ,” Becca said. “Try none . No one has even seen a Portath.”
Quentin picked up the messageboard. He scrolled through the text again, looking for something he’d missed.
“There’s got to be more,” he said. “Mike, you sure there aren’t other books?”
“There are always other books,” Kimberlin said. “That is the beauty of science versus religion. In this case, however, the problem is that all texts on the Portath contain basically the same limited information.”
Doc Patah’s wings gently undulated, slowly flipping him upside down so his lighter-skinned belly faced the ceiling. Quentin hadn’t known Harrah could do that. It struck him as something Doc did absently, to relax, maybe — similar to a Human putting his feet up on a table.
“Perhaps Bumberpuff will have more information,” Doc said. “He has probably seen more of this galaxy than all of us combined.”
Quentin still wasn’t sure if Bumberpuff was a he , or a she , or if the Prawatt even had gender, but he hoped Doc was right.
Captain Nilson’s voice sounded over the speakerfilm.
“ Passengers, report immediately to the shuttle bay. Your ride is here .”
Bumberpuff had arrived. Not that long ago, Quentin had been terrified to see the massive Prawatt ship known as the Grieve . Now he found himself looking forward to it — perhaps a dreadnaught of such size could offer some protection against the Cloud’s unknown dangers.
Quentin turned off his messageboard.
“Pack up quick and let’s go,” he said. “Time to see if our captain-turned-cornerback-turned-captain came through for us.”
COMPARED TO THE TIGHT CONFINES of the cargo shuttle, the crew lounge they’d left behind seemed downright spacious.
“Ow,” John said. “Ju, your butt is on my leg.”
“Your leg is in my butt,” Ju said. “And don’t be such a mega-baby.”
Kimberlin groaned in pain. “Forget your butts and your legs ... Crazy George, can you take your elbow out of my ear?”
“Sorry,” George said.
“Ow,” John said. “George, now your elbow is in my eye.”
“I can only move so much,” George said. “And since Becca weighs over three hundred pounds and every ounce of that is pretty much stepping on my testicles, you can just deal with my elbow.”
“I can’t help it, don’t ya know,” Becca said. “There’s nowhere to move, okay?”
Quentin turned in the co-pilot’s chair. “Guys, can it! We’re not far from where Bumberpuff’s ship is supposed to be. It won’t be long now.”
He wasn’t mashed into the back with the others, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable, either, his full seven feet stuffed into a seat that would have been a tight fit for Commissioner Froese. Quentin’s elbows pressed against the controls on his left and right, which, fortunately, the shuttle pilot had deactivated.
“We’re closing in,” the pilot said. “You can see it, straight out ahead.”
Quentin saw a black shape moving against the blackness of space, visible only because of stars blinking out when it passed in front of them. He remembered the first time he’d seen the Grieve , how it had blocked out all the stars by the time it reached out and engulfed the Touchback .
“It looks so small,” Quentin said. “We must still be, what, five hundred kilometers away?”
“Try one kilometer,” the pilot said. “Not even that much. I don’t know what you were expecting, Mister Barnes, but that ship out there is only a hundred and twenty meters long. It isn’t much bigger than the Burly Brown .”
Quentin looked at the pilot, then out at the Prawatt ship. A hundred and twenty meters ... that was a little more than half the size of the Touchback . The pilot had to be wrong — the Grieve was a monstrous thing, so large it was hard to get your head around it.
Quentin heard a tone in the cockpit: a
“Not few ,” Becca said. “Try none . No one has even seen a Portath.”
Quentin picked up the messageboard. He scrolled through the text again, looking for something he’d missed.
“There’s got to be more,” he said. “Mike, you sure there aren’t other books?”
“There are always other books,” Kimberlin said. “That is the beauty of science versus religion. In this case, however, the problem is that all texts on the Portath contain basically the same limited information.”
Doc Patah’s wings gently undulated, slowly flipping him upside down so his lighter-skinned belly faced the ceiling. Quentin hadn’t known Harrah could do that. It struck him as something Doc did absently, to relax, maybe — similar to a Human putting his feet up on a table.
“Perhaps Bumberpuff will have more information,” Doc said. “He has probably seen more of this galaxy than all of us combined.”
Quentin still wasn’t sure if Bumberpuff was a he , or a she , or if the Prawatt even had gender, but he hoped Doc was right.
Captain Nilson’s voice sounded over the speakerfilm.
“ Passengers, report immediately to the shuttle bay. Your ride is here .”
Bumberpuff had arrived. Not that long ago, Quentin had been terrified to see the massive Prawatt ship known as the Grieve . Now he found himself looking forward to it — perhaps a dreadnaught of such size could offer some protection against the Cloud’s unknown dangers.
Quentin turned off his messageboard.
“Pack up quick and let’s go,” he said. “Time to see if our captain-turned-cornerback-turned-captain came through for us.”
COMPARED TO THE TIGHT CONFINES of the cargo shuttle, the crew lounge they’d left behind seemed downright spacious.
“Ow,” John said. “Ju, your butt is on my leg.”
“Your leg is in my butt,” Ju said. “And don’t be such a mega-baby.”
Kimberlin groaned in pain. “Forget your butts and your legs ... Crazy George, can you take your elbow out of my ear?”
“Sorry,” George said.
“Ow,” John said. “George, now your elbow is in my eye.”
“I can only move so much,” George said. “And since Becca weighs over three hundred pounds and every ounce of that is pretty much stepping on my testicles, you can just deal with my elbow.”
“I can’t help it, don’t ya know,” Becca said. “There’s nowhere to move, okay?”
Quentin turned in the co-pilot’s chair. “Guys, can it! We’re not far from where Bumberpuff’s ship is supposed to be. It won’t be long now.”
He wasn’t mashed into the back with the others, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable, either, his full seven feet stuffed into a seat that would have been a tight fit for Commissioner Froese. Quentin’s elbows pressed against the controls on his left and right, which, fortunately, the shuttle pilot had deactivated.
“We’re closing in,” the pilot said. “You can see it, straight out ahead.”
Quentin saw a black shape moving against the blackness of space, visible only because of stars blinking out when it passed in front of them. He remembered the first time he’d seen the Grieve , how it had blocked out all the stars by the time it reached out and engulfed the Touchback .
“It looks so small,” Quentin said. “We must still be, what, five hundred kilometers away?”
“Try one kilometer,” the pilot said. “Not even that much. I don’t know what you were expecting, Mister Barnes, but that ship out there is only a hundred and twenty meters long. It isn’t much bigger than the Burly Brown .”
Quentin looked at the pilot, then out at the Prawatt ship. A hundred and twenty meters ... that was a little more than half the size of the Touchback . The pilot had to be wrong — the Grieve was a monstrous thing, so large it was hard to get your head around it.
Quentin heard a tone in the cockpit: a
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