Ultima by Stephen Baxter Read Free Book Online Page A

then.”
    â€œI doubt that very much,” Penny said drily.
    â€œYes,” said Earthshine, watching her. “You understand, don’t you, Penny Kalinski? You suspect you know what’s happened to us.
Because it’s happened to you before.
”
    McGregor stared at him, frowning, evidently unsure what he meant. “Let’s not speculate. Look, I’m the Captain. I’m in command here. But the situation is . . . novel. I’d rather proceed on the basis of consensus. I’ll give the order to fire up the drive for deceleration. Do I have your agreement for that? When we’ve come to a halt, we’ll review our situation; we’ll make decisions on our next steps based on the information we have to hand then.”
    â€œGood plan,” Penny said. “Unless, by then, somebody makes those decisions for us. Think about it. We’re in a massive ship with a highly energetic drive, about to plunge back into a solar system where—well, where we may not be recognized. We’ll be highly visible.”
    â€œFair point. But we have no choice. All agreed? Then, if I can ask you to prepare for the burn, to make your way to your couches and lock down any loose gear . . .”

6
    The
trierarchus
of the Brikanti vessel
Ukelwydd
was known to her crew, as she was known to her family and associates, only by her given name: Kerys.
    It was a custom of the Brikanti, especially those Pritanike-born, to eschew the complex family name structures of their fiercest rivals, the Romans, all of whom seemed to trace their lineages all the way back through various senatorial clans to the Romans’ Etruscan forebears, and also the traditions of the Brikanti’s oldest allies, the Scand, with their complicated son – or daughter-of-this-fellow naming convention. Such as the tongue-twisting surname of Ari Guthfrithson, the
druidh
who stood before Kerys now, rather ill at ease in the commander’s cabin, and looking at her with growing exasperation.
    â€œ
Trierarchus
, I get the sense you’re not listening to me.”
    Kerys allowed herself a grin. “Well, you’re right,
druidh
Ari, and I apologize. It’s just we’ve been so busy—prospecting like crazy at this latest teardrop before we move on to the next, and the next, following a schedule drawn up by some idiot in Dumnona with a blank parchment and a blanker mind and absolutely no experience of what life is actually
like
, out here in the expanses of Ymir’s Skull . . . And you walk in with this incomprehensible news of—what? A ship out in the void?”
    â€œA ship that shouldn’t be there,
trierarchus
.”
    â€œYou see what I mean? Incomprehensible. Would you like a drink? I’m stocked up with the usual.” Meaning Brikanti mead and Scand beer.
    Ari raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard the rumors that you have some wine from Italia tucked away in here, by the way.”
    â€œHmph,” Kerys said, reaching for the relevant bottle in a compartment of her desk. The Roman bottle was pottery, shaped like a miniature amphora, and came with a couple of matching mugs into which she poured the ruby wine, working with care with the ship’s thrust operating at less than full weight. “You’ve sophisticated tastes for one so immature.”
    â€œI’m twenty-nine years old,
trierarchus
,” he said, sipping his drink.
    â€œYounger than me by the best part of a decade, by Thor’s left arse cheek.”
    â€œWell, I am a
druidh
, Kerys.”
    The word derived from an old Brikanti word for “oak,” Kerys knew, and signified “great knowledge.” Ari was one of the generalist scholars that all Brikanti ships carried, if they had the room, as opposed to specialists in ship engineering, or in navigation in the deep ocean of vacuum the Brikanti called Ymir’s Skull, or in other essential functions. Ari was