The Dying Light by Sean Williams, Shane Dix Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sean Williams, Shane Dix
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“Can you at least tell if it’s mundane?”
The reave looked troubled.
A Sol Wunderkind? Roche wanted to ask, but didn’t. Maii would have said if that were the case. Yet she couldn’t quash the thought: something in hyperspace was pushing them away while in real-space drawing them closer. If not the fugitive, then what?
Roche folded her arms and watched the main screen as the minutes ticked by; the large number of unknowns made her want to scream out in frustration. She needed answers, not possibilities.
put in Maii,
Before Roche could acknowledge the truth of the reave’s comment, a low rumble echoed through the ship, beginning at the stern and fading to silence at the distant prow.
“Now what?” asked Roche, looking around in alarm.
“Uh—one moment,” said Kajic.
“We had a flicker of red lights down the port hull,” said Haid, “but they’ve cleared now.”
“A slight disturbance,” said the Box. “Nothing to be concerned about.”
Roche bit her tongue until Kajic delivered his own report.
“No problems with the drive,” said the ex-captain finally. “We must have encountered some sort of turbulence. Possibly a hyperspatial shock wave of some kind.”
“The anomaly again?” said Roche.
“It seems likely.”
“We are nearing the edge of the anomaly,” said the AI. “Obviously there will be some turbulence.”
“Aimed at us, perhaps?” suggested Haid.
“No,” said the Box. “Describing what we are experiencing as a shock wave is peculiarly apt. The turbulence may be caused by the anomaly only in the same way that the presence of a large mass ‘causes’ gravity.”
“Not deliberate then, but symptomatic.” Roche ran a hand restlessly along the arm of her chair. “It’s all the same from this end, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” said the Box. “If we can piece together a pattern to the symptoms, we should be able to deduce the nature of the anomaly that is causing it.”
“Here comes another one,” said Cane, his head cocked, listening.
The groan returned, as gradually as before but noticeably louder when it peaked. Roche, her hands pressed firmly into the chair’s armrests, felt a faint buzz through her fingertips.
“Could it hurt us, Uri?” she asked.
“Conceivably, yes. The stress is caused by sympathetic vibrations in the hull. So far I have been able to dampen the resonance.”
“Let me know if it gets too bad.”
“I will. If we encounter it again.”
Roche waited anxiously as the ship traveled onward. Barely two minutes later, a third shock wave rolled through the ship, this time accompanied by a sluing sensation to starboard and down, as though the ship were being dragged off course.
“Red lights again,” said Haid.
An instant later, from Cane: “Clear.”
Roche waited on edge for Kajic’s report.
“No damage,” he said finally. “But it was definitely more severe. The closer we get to the anomaly, the stronger they’re becoming.”
“Can we ride them for much longer?”
“If they continue worsening at this rate, no,” said Kajic. “But we’ll come close.”
“Good enough.” Roche swiveled her chair to face the main screen. Only a handful of minutes remained before the slow-jump was due to end. “Pull us out the moment we can’t take it. I’ll leave that decision in your hands.”
“Understood.”
As another groan began to build, Roche again gripped the chair’s armrests, and held on tight. She felt as though a bell were tolling directly behind her head, a bell so large that its vibrations were absorbed by her bones rather than heard. Before it had completely faded, another swelled to take its place.
“Box,” she said, raising her voice above the
“Can you at least tell if it’s mundane?”
The reave looked troubled.
A Sol Wunderkind? Roche wanted to ask, but didn’t. Maii would have said if that were the case. Yet she couldn’t quash the thought: something in hyperspace was pushing them away while in real-space drawing them closer. If not the fugitive, then what?
Roche folded her arms and watched the main screen as the minutes ticked by; the large number of unknowns made her want to scream out in frustration. She needed answers, not possibilities.
Before Roche could acknowledge the truth of the reave’s comment, a low rumble echoed through the ship, beginning at the stern and fading to silence at the distant prow.
“Now what?” asked Roche, looking around in alarm.
“Uh—one moment,” said Kajic.
“We had a flicker of red lights down the port hull,” said Haid, “but they’ve cleared now.”
“A slight disturbance,” said the Box. “Nothing to be concerned about.”
Roche bit her tongue until Kajic delivered his own report.
“No problems with the drive,” said the ex-captain finally. “We must have encountered some sort of turbulence. Possibly a hyperspatial shock wave of some kind.”
“The anomaly again?” said Roche.
“It seems likely.”
“We are nearing the edge of the anomaly,” said the AI. “Obviously there will be some turbulence.”
“Aimed at us, perhaps?” suggested Haid.
“No,” said the Box. “Describing what we are experiencing as a shock wave is peculiarly apt. The turbulence may be caused by the anomaly only in the same way that the presence of a large mass ‘causes’ gravity.”
“Not deliberate then, but symptomatic.” Roche ran a hand restlessly along the arm of her chair. “It’s all the same from this end, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” said the Box. “If we can piece together a pattern to the symptoms, we should be able to deduce the nature of the anomaly that is causing it.”
“Here comes another one,” said Cane, his head cocked, listening.
The groan returned, as gradually as before but noticeably louder when it peaked. Roche, her hands pressed firmly into the chair’s armrests, felt a faint buzz through her fingertips.
“Could it hurt us, Uri?” she asked.
“Conceivably, yes. The stress is caused by sympathetic vibrations in the hull. So far I have been able to dampen the resonance.”
“Let me know if it gets too bad.”
“I will. If we encounter it again.”
Roche waited anxiously as the ship traveled onward. Barely two minutes later, a third shock wave rolled through the ship, this time accompanied by a sluing sensation to starboard and down, as though the ship were being dragged off course.
“Red lights again,” said Haid.
An instant later, from Cane: “Clear.”
Roche waited on edge for Kajic’s report.
“No damage,” he said finally. “But it was definitely more severe. The closer we get to the anomaly, the stronger they’re becoming.”
“Can we ride them for much longer?”
“If they continue worsening at this rate, no,” said Kajic. “But we’ll come close.”
“Good enough.” Roche swiveled her chair to face the main screen. Only a handful of minutes remained before the slow-jump was due to end. “Pull us out the moment we can’t take it. I’ll leave that decision in your hands.”
“Understood.”
As another groan began to build, Roche again gripped the chair’s armrests, and held on tight. She felt as though a bell were tolling directly behind her head, a bell so large that its vibrations were absorbed by her bones rather than heard. Before it had completely faded, another swelled to take its place.
“Box,” she said, raising her voice above the
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