“You did the best you could. Time’s running against us. If we sat here on Emry until we were ready for the fight, there would be nothing left to defend.”

“You got that right. I’ll be in engineering if you need me.”

“Dina.” I touch her lightly on the arm. “Come see me after your shift.”

She flashes me a grin that looks like it hurts—and it doesn’t touch her eyes. “I hope you’re not hitting on me. I already told you that you’re not my type.”

“I should be so lucky.” I mean it. “I just thought . . . both of us are going to be lonely. We can play cards and drink. Watch vids. Whatever.”

The mechanic inclines her blond head. “I could use a friend right now.”

“Me, too,” I say with feeling.

“And I guess I should stop pretending you’re not the best I’ve got.”

My heart clutches a little bit. If she’s willing to drop the act, call it quits on the ribbing she offers as the main thrust of our relationship, then she’s feeling worse than I am. I don’t know if I can offer her any consolation, but I’ll try.

“I’m right there with you,” I answer, knowing she’ll hate it if I make a big deal of it. “See you later.”

Then it’s time for me to head for the cockpit. Along the way I nod at a few folks who offer greetings. I’ve never served on a ship where everyone wears the same uniform before. There’s something reassuring about it.

In my head, I run a list of the people who are gone beyond my reach now: Hon, Vel, Loras, Hit, Surge, and the children we saved. Mary grant that we can protect them. I’ve never been this scared before a jump; not even the promise of a grimspace rush can take the edge off.

So it takes all my courage to continue the last few meters and pass through the open doorway where March is waiting. On entry, I notice that Dina has installed the training chair I wanted with dual plugs; either a pilot or a novice jumper can use it.

Argus is already there, too. He’s had the gene therapy, but he doesn’t have the implant to control burnout yet, so he won’t be performing any actual jumps until Doc and Evelyn finish working on him. But he’ll share in the process through me. I hope he’ll also prove a buffer between March and myself.

The kid greets me with an upraised hand. Our commander starts the procedure, checking his instruments without looking at me. I take my seat, professional and cool.

It’s time to begin.

CHAPTER 32

Somehow I manage to sit quietly while we maneuver out of the docking bay.

As the Armada flagship, it’s natural for us to take the lead. March proves himself worthy of his rank with his excellent flying. I think he puts a little flourish on his exit, giving those left behind something to cheer. Mary knows, they’ve had little enough in recent months. It will take the other ships several weeks to reach a hot point so they can jump to their assigned sectors. That means for the next several weeks, we’ll be the lone soldiers in the wilderness.

“We’ll begin our route in Sigma Psi,” March tells me, bringing up the star charts for me to study. “Judging by the distress signals, it’s pure killbox.”

Which means we can expect a target-rich environment.

Luckily, I have time to map the route in my head. Since there’s no single point we’re trying to hit, as long as I deliver us anywhere in the Sigma Psi galaxy, I can call this run a success. I damp down my nerves, trying not to think about how much this could hurt. The good news is, now I have various mechanisms to help me cope with it.

“Is there any reason I can’t use a hot zone for the second half of the jump?”

“It would be better if we came in quiet,” March answers. “There’s likely to be resistance near known jump sites.”

“So we might be popping into an ambush.”

Much like we had done to the Morgut. Since we can’t jump with our weapons fully armed, they could blow us to bits before we got our cannons charged. I lean in and indicate a bit of nowhere space. “How about here? There’s nothing around for thousands of klicks, not even an emergency station.”

March studies the spot and nods. “If you think you can get us there, LC.”

Lieutenant Commander. The man wasn’t kidding about keeping things impersonal. He won’t even say my name.

“I can,” I say quietly.

Or die trying.

“This is . . . amazing,” Argus breathes from behind me.

His awe fills the cockpit with an emotion bigger than my grief, reminding me that grimspace is more enduring and more faithful than any lover. Once we have sufficient distance from the station, I plug in. The kid follows my head, and look, there he is, sharing the nav com with March and me. As I’d hoped, he forms a certain buffer. In time I won’t need it anymore, but for the time being, I need him here to keep me steady.

Phase drive cycling. March doesn’t need to tell me that. In here, I can feel the ship, almost as if it’s part of me. The cations in my blood fizz to life, reacting to the minute traces of grimspace still clinging to the engine.

Like last time, I reach for the phase drive as if extending a hand. With the other, I connect to the nav computer. Dina’s close to a breakthrough in the magic of tubes and wires, but for now, they only touch through me. Doc and Evelyn are as good as their word, however, because it doesn’t burn like before.

There’s a faint stinging somewhere deep inside my head, but I imagine the tiny nanites patching up the damage before it becomes overwhelming. Other damage—regular grimspace damage—will be corrected via the regulator implant. I’m a Lila unit these days, practically self-maintaining.

Power blazes through me as the phase drive hits the peak in its cycle. Deep down, I know this is wrong. I’m not supposed to be able to manage this. It’s too much for one person to hold. If the Morgut can do this, no wonder they look on us as mindless animals.

Argus draws in a sharp breath, feeling what I do. Knowing it won’t hurt him at secondary remove, I use the kid shamelessly to keep the bulk of it from March. I don’t want him knowing precisely what he’s asked of me. Only Hon has seen it firsthand, pre-mod, and he’s too far away to tell.

This time, the jump begins at my will. I don’t strain—I simply order it, and the universe obeys, folding so we can slip through. Our great ship shudders, then we wink out of straight space. It’s an infinity of a moment, charged with all the colors of creation.

My blood sings at this sweet homecoming. I can almost hear the atoms that make up my existence humming with the eager need to join their brethren. As if I had not already suspected it, now I’m sure. I am not wholly human.

Because this seems as much home to me as any I’ve ever known.

Vel would understand better than anyone, I think, but he’s not here.

Fiery scarlet, plowed through with a bitter amaranth heat. It is the light of an exploding star, cascading across our hull as March pilots us through. One day, I dream of launching myself out a hatch to see what will happen if I stay here. Is that death, or will it be merely the beginning of some glorious new adventure?

I cannot find out today. I have promises to keep.

Heartsick ecstasy careens through Argus at seeing the colors for the first time, and he lacks the experience to keep from sharing with us every nuance. That’s good. I want his elation to drown out my heartache, like a loud, drunken chorus sung above a lone and mournful tune.

Using the beacons, I locate Sigma Psi, then visualize the nowhere space where we need to emerge. More stinging cuts slice into my mind like tiny knives, but it never blossoms to full pain. I feel as though my whole body is glowing with light, warmth that kindles without consuming the source.

Unexpectedly, Argus joins his focus to mine. I was right; there’s good mettle in this one. I never expected him to do more on his initial jump than glory in grimspace, but maybe thanks to the long hours in the simulator, he’s overcome his enthrallment and is holding the coordinates in his mind, like a local beacon for me to follow.

I am the ship.

I am the jump.

The mantra aids me as the phase drive powers up again. Relaxing into it, I let the current pass through me. It’s easier this time, yielding my body to the ship’s will. Because I don’t fight it, it almost doesn’t hurt when I birth the next jump, swirling through me and into Sigma Psi.

I’m still sweaty and shaky, but I don’t feel in any danger when I unplug. Maybe it was Argus, maybe the implants—and maybe, just maybe, I needed both to make the difference. At least I can jump again without dread, and unlike any navigator who’s come before me, if I survive the war, I stand a reasonable chance of succumbing to old age.

A vast field of stars greets me. I can’t identify constellations like this, so I have no idea how I did. The stinging in my head recedes as I wait for the verdict as our commander taps various panels, checking our new location.

“Holy Mary,” March breathes at last.

Running a hand through my damp hair, I glance back at Argus, who shrugs, wearing a huge grin. I don’t think he cares where I jumped us. He just wants to do that again.

“How close did I come?”

“That’s just it, LC. There’s no drift at all.”

“Excellent news,” I say, pushing to my feet. Once, I would’ve made some joke about how I’m the best there’s ever been, but I’m conscious of the need to be professional now. “Am I dismissed? I’d like to get something to eat.”

March nods. “Enjoy a little R and R. I’ll take first shift up here. If we need to jump, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I always am.”

“Would you notify me as well?” Argus asks unexpectedly. “I can’t imagine a better training opportunity.”

“Will do, ensign.” March turns from us then.

Clearly we’re done, so I let Argus leave the cockpit first. Once we come to the first intersection, well out of earshot, he says, “If you don’t have anything more important to do, LC, I’d like to deconstruct that jump. Based on what we’ve practiced in the sims, I don’t understand what you did.”

Nobody else does, either, kid. I’m the only non-Morgut who can. There’s nothing like being the only one of your kind for job security. But I figure I can do a working dinner before joining Dina.

“I don’t mind. How much do you know about Solaith and Dasad’s experiments?”

“Only what they did to fix me, the gene therapy.”

I clap him on the shoulder. “Then we have a lot to talk about. Once we get you fully trained, they’re going to want to mess with your brain, too.”

Following me with an uneasy smile, the poor kid obviously thinks I’m joking. We settle at a table, and I let him eat a bit before going into the details. “I told you once before that I was conceived in grimspace, right?”

He nods, listening.

“That means my blood is cation-rich, and I carry a jump zone with me. But using my body as a conduit to jump-start the phase drive nearly killed me. The human body isn’t meant to do that unaided. Maybe Morgut physiology permits it—I don’t know.”