“Be warned: there may be more sudden moves. I have surrendered control of this vessel to their systems,” Aille said. “That is a requirement in this situation.”
Caitlin Stockwell returned to her oversized seat, buckled herself in, and then stared at her clenched hands. In jeans and a white shirt, short hair combed back with her fingers, she looked even younger than her twenty-four years.
The view in the screen changed inexorably until the lumpy pyramidal structure was all they could see. A door in its most proximate side didn’t so much open as fade, providing access to an immense docking bay.
Their ship, minute in comparison, drifted into the aperture, which was much larger than Tully had first thought. An aircraft carrier could have sailed through that hole, he realized numbly.
Inside, lights flared in measured red and blue bursts, so bright he blinked in pain. His arm came up to shield his eyes before the viewscreen dampened the intensity. Ghost images danced on his retinas wherever he looked. He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. “Is that normal?”
“I have studied fifty-two accounts of similar situations involving the Interdict,” Aille said. “This effect has never been noted, but every account contains unique elements.”
“You mean they never act the same way twice,” Tully said, “so that business about them not attacking while we’re here, or not killing us on sight, doesn’t hold water.”
Aille keyed the ship’s lock to cycle open. “They are unpredictable, if that is what you mean.”
“Will we be able to breathe?” Kralik asked. Tully detected a trace of nervousness in the general’s normally stoic military bearing.
“Most likely,” Aille said, “although I examined several accounts where the Ekhat either forgot to provide a breathable atmosphere, or deemed it unnecessary.”
Caitlin got to her feet and shivered. “What did the envoys do?”
“They died,” Aille said.
Yaut nodded him curtly into the front. Tully realized with a start that, following Jao protocol, the three humans would have to go through that damn hatch first. He closed his eyes and reached for composure. No matter what it took, he wasn’t going to look weak in front of the Jao.
“Like this,” a soft voice whispered in his ear. He looked sideways to see Caitlin Stockwell canting her head just so, shifting her weight to a back leg that was straight while her front was bent, her unbroken arm curved with the fingers extended at precise angles. “Calm-assurance,” she said, then turned to Kralik on her other side. “Try it. You’ll look better, even if you don’t really feel it.”
Tully exhaled and tried to emulate her stance, head, arms, legs positioned as she demonstrated. The wild beating of his heart eased, but the sickening thrill of adrenaline still rocketed through his body.
Instead of opening, the outer lock simply disappeared in a little yellow flash. The interior of the little ship was flooded with blue so intense, Tully could taste it as a raw bitterness. The air, though breathable, was suffocatingly hot and reeked of oils and tortured bearings.
“Now,” Yaut said, “we exit.”
There was sound too, like a whole chorus of machines grinding metal against metal. Tully stepped into the open hatch and looked out. Suspended globules of red light played throughout the cavernous space while in the distance dim shapes flitted here and there. He swallowed, trying to orient himself.
“Go!” Yaut said. “Firsts are critical. We must not show fear.”
Chapter 31
Tully stepped through, Caitlin following, Kralik at her side. The overheated air was so torrid, it was like walking into a wall of heat. By his estimate, the temperature was at least 120 degrees Fahrenheit, maybe higher.
The three emerged at the top of the courier ship’s extended ramp and were engulfed in a stinking miasma. Skunk marinated in rotten eggs, Tully thought. His eyes watered until he could hardly see. At least this ship had artificial gravity, though it was much less than Earth standard. His foot seemed to float back down to the ramp each time he picked it up so that he felt like he was moving in slow motion and on the constant edge of losing his balance. “Where do I go?” he asked without turning around.