heard that something happened to the Engine," Ben said. "We happened to be nearby."
Nethercott came down the aisle like the specter of death.
"The Engine has simply been taken off-line for the time being," Nethercott said. "There is nothing to worry about." He smiled at them with thin, bloodless lips.
"Where is everybody?" Ben asked. "Where are the Avatkas? There's always somebody at the rod." Ben pointed to the deserted communion rod room, which, he just now observed, was also devoid of the greenish gases the Avatkas normally breathed. "Looks like the atmosphere's gone out, too. What happened in there?"
The High Auditor said, "Nothing's happened. The Enamorati have merely been-"
A loud pop! sounded out just then and the three jerked around to see that a giant silver crack had appeared in the wall separating the communion room from the Sanctuary auditorium. The crack, thirty feet long, looked like a frozen bolt of lightning.
" Ixion !" Nethercott exploded.
"Jesus!" Ben said as he and George fell into defensive crouches. The sound had been quite loud.
The partition, however, held. It did not explode and no trace of the Enamorati's toxic atmosphere came hissing out at them. Seconds later, vents on the Enamorati side in the ceiling began oozing a sealing solution that raced down the crack. The viewing window would be as good as new within a few minutes.
"What the hell was that?" Clock said.
"Boys," Nethercott said, gathering himself together, "this is not for you. Return to your lifeboat stations and wait for the captain's command to go back to your rooms."
"But what about-" Ben started.
"Leave," Nethercott said insistently, "or I will have campus security come and drag you away. There is nothing for you here."
Ben stared at the communion-rod room and the empty empath stations and the long crack etched by some disturbance deep inside the Enamorati compound. But no further explosions were heard; no more cracks appeared in the glass partition.
"I'd tell someone about that," Ben said, pointing to the disappearing crack.
"I plan to," Nethercott said.
With that, they left the Sanctuary. Whatever the Ainge were up to, it was unlikely anyone else knew anything about it. Ben thought he'd try and find out.
9
That following Saturday morning the Grays made official what every human being and Enamorati on the ship already knew: Eos University was stranded 118 light-years from Earth at the Alley's inmost point in the galaxy with a permanently disabled Engine. Few people slept that night and a lot of them wound up in the health center with complaints of acute nausea and disorientation.
Eos's piloting and communications personnel reacted swiftly by firing a mayday data bullet to the Enamorati home world of Virr, which was twenty-three thousand light-years away in the inner Sagittarius Alley. That bullet, a bare description of their situation along with their stellar coordinates, was made extremely small so it could travel through trans-space as fast as possible. Despite that, it would take at least ten hours to reach Virr. Acknowledgement of the mayday, however, would likely take a little bit longer. It all depended on how long it took the Enamorati ruling council to assess the news.
In the meantime, ShipCom became very busy sending data bullets back to the worlds of the Human Community, apprising the nearby settlements of their status. Once the maydays went out, ShipCom allowed the students, faculty, and staff to file their own letters. These were shot out almost as soon as they were compacted in the rail queue, in the hope that Mom and Dad would see that everything was under control.
For Julia's part, she decided against sending a letter of her own to her mother and three sisters back on Earth in Flagstaff, Arizona, telling them of her adventures. And after the Engine had broken down, Julia had a very good adventure. As it developed, fourteen lifepods had managed to launch themselves from Eos during the
Nethercott came down the aisle like the specter of death.
"The Engine has simply been taken off-line for the time being," Nethercott said. "There is nothing to worry about." He smiled at them with thin, bloodless lips.
"Where is everybody?" Ben asked. "Where are the Avatkas? There's always somebody at the rod." Ben pointed to the deserted communion rod room, which, he just now observed, was also devoid of the greenish gases the Avatkas normally breathed. "Looks like the atmosphere's gone out, too. What happened in there?"
The High Auditor said, "Nothing's happened. The Enamorati have merely been-"
A loud pop! sounded out just then and the three jerked around to see that a giant silver crack had appeared in the wall separating the communion room from the Sanctuary auditorium. The crack, thirty feet long, looked like a frozen bolt of lightning.
" Ixion !" Nethercott exploded.
"Jesus!" Ben said as he and George fell into defensive crouches. The sound had been quite loud.
The partition, however, held. It did not explode and no trace of the Enamorati's toxic atmosphere came hissing out at them. Seconds later, vents on the Enamorati side in the ceiling began oozing a sealing solution that raced down the crack. The viewing window would be as good as new within a few minutes.
"What the hell was that?" Clock said.
"Boys," Nethercott said, gathering himself together, "this is not for you. Return to your lifeboat stations and wait for the captain's command to go back to your rooms."
"But what about-" Ben started.
"Leave," Nethercott said insistently, "or I will have campus security come and drag you away. There is nothing for you here."
Ben stared at the communion-rod room and the empty empath stations and the long crack etched by some disturbance deep inside the Enamorati compound. But no further explosions were heard; no more cracks appeared in the glass partition.
"I'd tell someone about that," Ben said, pointing to the disappearing crack.
"I plan to," Nethercott said.
With that, they left the Sanctuary. Whatever the Ainge were up to, it was unlikely anyone else knew anything about it. Ben thought he'd try and find out.
9
That following Saturday morning the Grays made official what every human being and Enamorati on the ship already knew: Eos University was stranded 118 light-years from Earth at the Alley's inmost point in the galaxy with a permanently disabled Engine. Few people slept that night and a lot of them wound up in the health center with complaints of acute nausea and disorientation.
Eos's piloting and communications personnel reacted swiftly by firing a mayday data bullet to the Enamorati home world of Virr, which was twenty-three thousand light-years away in the inner Sagittarius Alley. That bullet, a bare description of their situation along with their stellar coordinates, was made extremely small so it could travel through trans-space as fast as possible. Despite that, it would take at least ten hours to reach Virr. Acknowledgement of the mayday, however, would likely take a little bit longer. It all depended on how long it took the Enamorati ruling council to assess the news.
In the meantime, ShipCom became very busy sending data bullets back to the worlds of the Human Community, apprising the nearby settlements of their status. Once the maydays went out, ShipCom allowed the students, faculty, and staff to file their own letters. These were shot out almost as soon as they were compacted in the rail queue, in the hope that Mom and Dad would see that everything was under control.
For Julia's part, she decided against sending a letter of her own to her mother and three sisters back on Earth in Flagstaff, Arizona, telling them of her adventures. And after the Engine had broken down, Julia had a very good adventure. As it developed, fourteen lifepods had managed to launch themselves from Eos during the
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